Maria had been sleeping better lately, as she got used to being at home and less worried about somebody discovering Alberto's secret. That night, however, she had a bit of indigestion – she would start to nod off, but then a bit of that sharp, grassy flavour would come up and wake her again as she swallowed and smacked her lips, trying to get rid of it. It didn't seem to be affecting Alberto, who slept quietly in his crib throughout her repeated awakenings, so it was for her own sake that she eventually got up and brought him to bed with her. He did not wake up, and after a while his warm weight and soft breathing finally lulled her off to sleep.

The morning dawned with late spring sunshine streaming in the window, and Maria sat up and arched her back to stretch. With Massimo hurt, she was going to have to do the fishing – that meant she couldn't linger in bed. She got herself and Alberto washed up and dressed, and headed downstairs for breakfast.

Massimo and Helena, habitual early risers, were up ahead of her. When Maria entered the kitchen, they were in the middle of an argument, and she was immediately called upon to take sides.

"Maria!" Helena said, without even a buongiorno . "What did the doctor say about that ankle?

"Keep off it for at least a week," Maria replied, eyeing Massimo. What had he been planning.

Helena nodded. "You are not wandering around town, up and down hills, to do deliveries!" she informed her husband.

"Somebody must!" Massimo complained.

"Dario can do it," Helena told him.

"Who will mind the shop? Maria will be fishing."

"I will."

"You should not be on your feet."

"I'll take a chair down. I don't think the customers will care."

Maria stepped in. "Helena's right," she declared. "There are things she'll need to stand for, but that won't take long and she can go back in when Dario is finished. He won't need as long as I do, because he won't stop to talk to everybody." If Dario's usual determination to work as hard as possible held, he would probably get them all done inside half an hour.

"You know you're very lucky Maria came back when she did," Helena added. "If you'd fallen like that and she wasn't here, we'd just have to close the shop and eat the losses. Thanks to her, we won't starve, and it's just ungrateful for you to sit and complain about it."

"You two are ganging up on me," Massimo protested.

"We are not bullying you! We're trying to keep you from hurting yourself any worse!" Maria shook her head and looked at her sister-in-law. "How do you deal with him when he's sick?"

"This is actually the first time since I met him," Helena told her. "It's a new side of him, to be sure!"

Massimo just scowled.

The three ate breakfast in tense silence, broken only by Alberto banging a spoon on the table until Maria got fed up and took it away from him. After that he just gnawed on his slice of focaccia and looked warily around at the adults. He could tell there was a problem, but was not old enough to understand what it was. Maria felt sorry for him, but reassuring him would have felt like a passive-aggressive jab at Massimo, so she refrained.

Massimo finished first. He downed the last of his espresso, and grabbed the edge of the table to pull himself upright.

"Where do you think you're going?" Helena asked him.

"Since you two won't let me do anything but sit, I am at least going to go sit in the sun," Massimo replied. "Maybe somebody will stop to talk to me, so I won't die of boredom." He hobbled towards the door.

Helena pushed her fingers through her red curls in exasperation.

"I'll look after him," said Maria. She stuffed the last of her own breakfast in her mouth and stood. "Alberto, be good for Auntie Helena," she said through her mouthful, then picked up a footstool and went after her brother.

Massimo was a surly brat the entire time, but Maria got him settled at a table in the piazza with his bad ankle up on the stool. Vito Ottonello from the bakery next door offered to keep him company for a while, and sent his own little son Francesco inside for some ice. Satisfied, Maria thanked the neighbour and went back inside, where she finally had the chance to ask Helena about the missing herb.

"He's already gone, isn't he?" Helena asked as Maria entered the kitchen, but then she looked out the window and corrected herself. "Oh, no... it looks like the baker's setting up a game board. They're going to play tavola reale ."

"Good," said Maria. The game would keep Massimo occupied, at least for a while. She scooped up Alberto, who'd come running to greet her, and kissed his cheek. "Have you seen..."

"Is he always such a sulky child when he's hurt?" Helena asked. "Oh, scusi , you were saying something."

"Since he was at least nine years old," Maria said. "That was the year we had varicella . He was insufferable." She shook her head. "Yesterday, Pinuccia Aragosta gave me a plant from her garden and I seem to have misplaced it. Did you see anything while you were tidying up last night?"

Helena thought about it as she began putting dishes in the sink. "I don't remember anything I couldn't identify. What did it look like?"

"Little shiny green leaves," said Maria, knowing that wouldn't help. "They had little prongs at the stem end, like a fish tail. I had them wrapped in a handkerchief."

"Oh!" said Helena. "I didn't realize they were in the cloth on purpose. I thought they'd just fallen there. Um... was it something special?"

"Sort of." Maria was a bit embarrassed to explain. "What did you do with it?"

Helena laughed nervously. "I... well, I thought it was basil. I put it in the pesto."

Maria felt as if she'd been dunked in ice. "You... the pesto we all ate last night?"

"Yes. It wasn't poisonous, was it?" Helena asked, worried.

The words were almost drowned out by the roar of Maria's blood in her ears. "I... I don't know," she said. Did changing people into sea monsters count as poisoning them? "I'll go ask! Take Alberto." She thrust her son into his aunt's arms, and ran back down the stairs to the street.

" Buongiorno , Signora Scorfano!" Dario said as she went out the door. She did not stop to reply to him, nor to Vito when he called out to ask if she were okay. Instead, she headed straight up the hill to the Aragostas' house, praying with every step that they'd be home when she arrived. Maybe the herb wasn't actually magical. Maybe it had just been a test of her character. Or maybe dividing it among three adults meant none of them would have had enough to affect them. Because otherwise...

She opened the gate and flew up the walk to bang on the door of the house. "Pinuccia!" she called out. "Are you awake? I need to talk to you!"

The door opened and Concetta looked out, blinking sleepily in the bright light and with her grey hair askew around her face. "Oh, bother," she said. "I told her not to give you that! You went and took it, didn't you?"

"I didn't mean to," Maria said. "Helena put it in pesto by mistake!"

Concetta stared at her. "You're joking."

Maria shook her head.

" Mamma mia !" the old woman groaned. "Pinuccia! Get your tail out here now !"

Pinuccia arrived a few seconds later, wearing a dressing gown and with her hair tied back under a kerchief. At about the same time, Helena came up behind Maria, breathing hard from climbing the steep hill while heavily pregnant.

"What's..." Helena began, then paused to gasp for air. "What's going on?"

"What's happened?" asked Pinuccia.

"The Marcovaldos have put Glauco's herb in their pesto!" said Concetta. "I told you. I told you!"

"In pesto ?" asked Pinuccia, horrified.

"Helena mistook it for basil," said Maria. "I need to know, what's going to happen to us?"

Pinuccia opened her mouth, then shut it again, then did this again several times as she struggled for words. Finally she said, "I don't know."

"You don't know ?" Maria echoed in disbelief.

"You're not supposed to put it on pasta!" said Pinuccia. "I don't think anyone's ever done that before! Who ate it?"

"All of us!" Maria said. "Me, Helena, Massimo, and Alberto!"

"Well, it won't do anything to Alberto," said Concetta. "He Changes already."

"The rest of you... I really don't know," Pinuccia said. "I don't. The story said Glauco just ate it raw, and the gentleman who told us about it said you could do that or drink it in tea."

"What's going on?" Helena asked. "What was that plant?"

Maria shut her eyes. "It was... um..." she opened them again and looked pleadingly at the two sea monster women, hoping for help. She found none. Concetta was shaking her head, wanting no part of this fiasco, while Pinuccia didn't want to speak for fear her partner would scold her again. It was going to have to be Maria.

"Yesterday," she stammered. "Yesterday I was saying, you know I worry that Alberto would be better off being raised by... by somebody like him. Pinuccia told me a story about a magic herb, and gave me some to use if I wanted. It was supposed... supposed..." she gathered her courage to spit the words out, only to realize something was missing. "What did you do with Alberto?"

"I left him with Massimo and Vito," said Helena. She came up and put her hands on Maria's shoulders to give her a gentle shake. "Maria, what does that plant do ?"

"It was supposed to make me transform in the water, like Alberto does," Maria admitted. She wished she could sink into the ground. Why hadn't she put it back in her pocket before running out to help Massimo? It would have taken no time at all!

Helena put her hands over her mouth in horror. "We all ate that! Are we gonna..." she looked at the Aragostas.

"I told you," said Pinuccia helplessly, "I just don't know."

Maria's head was starting to spin. She wasn't normally the type who panicked. The last time she'd been this close to a breakdown was that horrible night when Giancarlo had abandoned her during labour. She'd shouted his name through tears until she was hoarse, and when she'd finally had to admit he wasn't coming back, she'd wanted nothing more than to just lie down and give up on everything. That hadn't been possible then, because of Alberto – she'd had to give birth to him or die trying, as new mothers had since the beginning of time.

She couldn't panic now, either, and again it was because of Alberto. He was back in the piazza waiting for her, and whatever she did right now, she had to collect herself before she went to him. Alberto depended on her. He couldn't see her freaking out. She took several deep breaths, trying to get herself under control.

"I'm so sorry!" said Helena, equally frantic. "I thought it was basil! Santa ricotta , what's going to happen to the baby?" She put her hands protectively on her belly, her face pale.

Pinuccia held up her hands. "Okay, calm down, both of you. I assume you both washed up this morning. Did anything change when you got wet?"

Maria had indeed washed her hands and face before going down to breakfast, as well as Alberto's. His had transformed – hers had not, as far as she recalled. She would have noticed, wouldn't she? She shook her head. "No, nothing."

"Me either," said Helena, closing her eyes in relief. "Is it supposed to work right away?"

"That's what the stories say," Pinuccia said. "I'd give it a few days just to be sure, but if nothing's happened yet, that's a promising sign. Just be more careful with your seasonings in the future."

Helena nodded, her shoulders sagging with relief. "I think I'm done trying to cook," she said. "I'll leave it to Massimo and Helena."

"And we ," Concetta added pointedly, "are pulling that plant up and throwing it away! There's no reason to have it besides as a curiosity, anyway."

Pinuccia opened her mouth to protest, but then changed her mind and gave a nod. "Yes, you're probably right. This time."

Concetta sniffed. "I'm always right. You know that."

"I tell her that to make her feel better," Pinuccia told their guests with a wink. "If anything does happen, come and see us right away."

"You just said you don't know how this is going to work," Maria said.

"That doesn't mean I won't help anyway I can," Pinuccia promised.

"This is her fault more than either of yours," Concetat agreed.

Maria and Helena were much slower going back down the hill than they'd been coming up. Pinuccia's words had clearly done a lot to reassure Helena, but Maria herself was still nervous. She had mentioned waiting a few days. That meant they weren't out of the woods, or maybe the seaweed, just yet. Something terrible might still happen.

"You need to tell Massimo," said Helena.

Maria shook her head. "He'd just want to know why I'd want such a thing in the first place, and then I would have to tell him about Giancarlo and Alberto."

"That's exactly what I meant," Helena told her. "Imagine if it had worked! He wouldn't know what was happening."

"It didn't work," Maria said, "so he doesn't need to know." As long as it continued not to work.

"He will eventually," Helena insisted. "Maybe sooner rather than later. What if we get back tot the Pescheria and find Alberto's gotten wet somehow?"

"Then that'll be your fault for leaving him!" Maria snapped, quickening her pace a little.

This let her get ahead of Helena, who had already done all the hurrying she could for now. Helena, however, would know very well that Maria was doing it on purpose, and it was doubtless going to leave her in a foul mood. Maria could only hope that she would have cooled down by the time the fishing was done.

She reached the piazza to find that Alberto was quite dry. Massimo and Ottonello had started to pay their game, but Alberto and Francesco had stolen most of the pieces and were trying to pile them into towers. Maria came and sat down with them on the cobbles, putting a hand on Alberto's back.

"Have you made a new friend?" she asked. She wasn't sure how old Francesco was, but he looked about three, similar to Marietta's son Guido.

Alberto made a happy burbling sound.

Maria picked her son up and handed him to Helena again. Helena accepted him, but with a scowl on her face.

"Massimo," she said loudly. "Your sister needs to tell you something."

Maria sucked in a breath. Helena wouldn't dare tell him herself, would she? She'd promised!

"What is it?" Massimo asked.

"Nothing," said Maria. "It's not as important as your wife thinks it is." She ruffled Alberto's curls. "Behave yourself for Auntie Helena, okay? Play nicely, and don't get all wet and messy." Maria gave Helena a fierce look.

"I'll watch him," Helena promised, "but we'll talk later."

Maria waved goodbye to Alberto, then descended the stairs to the boat.

Alberto waved back. Although it had only been a couple of months since he'd met anyone besides his parents, Alberto seemed to be a trusting child by nature. That might be a problem when he got older. For now, though, he was happy to be left with his relatives – until he realized his mother was getting into a boat.

Although they went swimming regularly now, Alberto hadn't been in a boat since the day Maria had brought him home. Seeing his mother climbing into one without him, he began first to fuss and struggle, and then to kick and scream. He worked his way free of Helena's grasp and ran for the edge of the piazza, sitting down on his butt to slide down the stairs one at a time. Maria quickly climbed out of the boat again to run and grab him before he could reach the water.

"Alberto, no! We don't go in the water, remember?" Maria asked him.

Alberto grabbed her blouse and bawled.

Maria carried him back up the steps and sat down at the table with Massimo, drying Alberto's tears on her skirt so the scales wouldn't show. She couldn't help but flinch as her fingers got wet, remembering Pinuccia's warning to be on her guard for a few days, but no transformation occurred.

"I'm sorry, Berto," she said to him. "I know you want to go swimming, but there's not going to be time today. You can have a bath tonight and splash all you like, and once Uncle Massimo is feeling better I'll take you to the beach every day! Okay?"

Alberto hiccuped.

"There we go," Maria smiled. "Feeling better?"

He seemed to be, until she tried to leave again. Alberto hadn't minded his mother leaving him to go uphill, but her going in the water without him was absolutely not allowed.

"It seems," said Massimo, "that I will have to do the fishing after all."

"Absolutely not!" said Maria and Helena in unison.

"Come here, Alberto." Maria lifted him again and kissed his temple, then went back indoors. Helena followed her, having some idea what she might have in mind. Once in the kitchen, Maria got Alberto settled on the bench, and Helena cut up an apple for him.

Alberto was still upset, but fruit was enough to distract him a little. He sucked on a slice, and Helena sat down beside him with a storybook.

"I think you'll like this one," she said, opening it to a page of colourful illustrations. "It's about a little fish who lives in an anemone with his Papà."

She began reading the story and pointing things out in the pictures, and Maria started edging towards the door. Doing her best not to make a sound, she slipped through.

Maria's heart felt like a knot in her chest as she tiptoed down to the street, carefully avoiding the creaky steps. Somebody had to go fishing today, it couldn't be either Massimo or Helena, and Maria couldn't take Alberto with her because he might wander off and get lost, or be seen getting wet, or heaven knew what else... but she'd just tricked him into going inside by implying that she'd stay with him, and he was going to feel abandoned and betrayed when he noticed. Then she might have to do the same thing tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. What kind of a mother was she?

Back in the piazza she found that Giuseppina had collected Francesco, allowing Massimo and Vito to play their board game in peace. Maria hurried past them, not daring to look back because she knew if she saw Alberto's face in the kitchen window, she wouldn't be able to bear it. She climbed into the boat and cast off, expecting to hear him wailing at any moment, but there was not a peep.

Once she was out of the harbour and on the Ligurian Sea, Maria began to feel a bit better. Alberto would eventually understand that Mamma wasn't leaving him forever, and he knew he was safe with Uncle Massimo and Aunt Helena. She did have to wonder how she was going to escape tomorrow , when he might be on to the trick, but that wasn't a problem for today. Today she just had to bring in the catch so they would have fish to sell while Massimo recovered.

And to think about that plant Pinuccia had given her. There'd been no hint in anything to two women said that morning which would make her think it had been a test or a prank – both their reactions indicated that it really did have magical properties, or at least that the Aragostas believed it did. It would probably do nothing. But what if it did ?

Yesterday, Pinuccia had told her to take the herb and dive into the sea. Did it need salt water to activate it? Alberto and Giancarlo both transformed in fresh water, and that morning Pinuccia had asked if they'd Changed when they washed... but how much did she really know? She and Concetta had been sea monsters all their lives, and their source for how the herb worked was a poem two thousand years old. Was there another step involved, something that would sneak up on all three of them?

It was with some trepidation that she reached into the water to pull up Massimo's buoy, not sure if she were going to see a five-fingered hand or a webbed claw. If the latter, she would have to warn Helena and Massimo to stay away from seawater... and somehow do so without telling Massimo why . To her relief, nothing changed. She pulled up the net, and started taking fish out of it.

By the time she brought the boat back into the harbour that afternoon, Maria was no longer worried about the plant – but there were a dozen other things still on her mind. Helena was probably still angry with her, and might have spent the morning dropping hints to Massimo about some terrible secret. Alberto had surely noticed at some point that his mother was gone, and heaven only knew how he'd react to her reappearance. Maria had spent the last few weeks settling into a comfortable new life with her family, and now it was suddenly starting to crack, all because of this stupid plant!

The first thing she saw when she brought the boat up to the quay was that Massimo and the baker were no longer sitting outside with a game. Hopefully Massimo had simply gone indoors, although the cynic in Maria could imagine a dozen other things he might be doing or drying to do, none of which Dr. Calcagno would have approved of. She tied up the boat, and went to get the cart so she could bring the fish to the house for cleaning.

"Hello, Signora Scorfano!" Dario called out from the Pescheria door. "Do you need some help with that?"

"That would be lovely," said Maria. "Do you know where Massimo went?"

Dario ran to assist her. "He said he was going fishing."

Maria almost fell over. " What ? But I had the boat!"

"No no no!" Dario said quickly. He held up his hands to reassure her, in the process letting go of the cart. It began to roll down the sloping piazza pavement, and Maria had to move quickly to stop it. "Sorry!" Dario exclaimed, grabbing it again. "But Signor Marcovaldo didn't go out in a boat. He went with a couple of older fellows to the old dock on the other side of the train station. They're gonna sit and fish with rods, you know. One fish at a time."

Then Maria remembered Albino Bagnasco telling her that Massimo had kept him company doing that while an injury healed. Albino must have decided it was time to return the favour. "Oh, good," she said. "Does Helena know?"

"Of course," Dario assured her. "She gave permission, and a big list of rules that the Signori promised to follow. They said they'd have him home for supper."

" Benissimo ." Hopefully older, wiser men would keep Massimo off his feet. "Grab a scaling knife, Dario, there's lots of work to do."

She got the boy busy cleaning fish, and intended to join him, but first Maria had to check on Alberto. Her heart was pounding as she climbed the steps and peeked into the kitchen.

Halfway up, she could already hear singing. When she arrived in the room, Maria found Helena working on a drawing and singing cheerfully along with the radio. Alberto was watching, fascinated. When the song ended, Helena mimed a bow, and Alberto clapped eagerly with an appreciative squeal.

With a relieved smile on her face, Maria stepped through the doorway – and Alberto's demeanour changed at once. He turned to look at her with wide, startled eyes. Then he climbed down from the bench and seemed to make a very deliberate show of bursting into tears before running to throw his chubby arms around Maria's legs.

It was difficult not to laugh at this performance, but Maria managed it. She scooped Alberto up and kissed him on both cheeks. Helena was grinning as she handed Maria a handkerchief to dry her son's tears.

"It's all right, Berto," Maria soothed. "Mamma's home now. You wouldn't have wanted to come with me, anyway, all I did was work. No time to play in the ocean. I bet you had a lovely morning with Auntie Helena, didn't you?"

Alberto's lower lip wobbled, then he buried his face in his mother's clothing and cried some more.

"Dramatic, isn't he?" Helena asked.

"He gets it from his father," Maria said, smiling. She rubbed Alberto's back in circles, and he began to calm down.

"He was a bit upset when he realized you'd left," said Helena, "but he got over it quickly because he wanted the rest of his apple." A moment later, though, she turned serious again. "Is Massimo still at the old dock?"

"That's what Dario said," Maria replied cautiously. She suspected she knew what was coming.

Sure enough. "You need to tell him about Alberto. Soon," Helena said firmly.

Maria shook her head.

"Listen to me." Helena came closer. "Massimo would never hurt a child. I know that. Especially when it's your child. If you don't tell him, he'll find out on his own eventually. Imagine what will happen if he sees what Alberto does in the water and he's not prepared. He wouldn't hurt him on purpose, but he might do something in a moment of panic that he'll end up regretting later. Alberto is much safer if Massimo knows. I think deep down you know that."

Maria looked away, unable to meet Helena's eyes. "What about Giancarlo?" she asked. She still loved Giancarlo, even if she didn't exactly like him anymore, and she didn't want any harm to come to him. If Massimo knew that Giancarlo was the sea monster he'd been hunting...

"You told us Giancarlo was dead," said Helena.

Of course she had... and even after telling Helena the truth about Alberto, Maria had not corrected that impression. She'd sort of thought she didn't need to, since Helena must know that a sea monster couldn't drown. She probably ought to explain properly, but Helena was already angry and admitting another lie wouldn't help.

"All right," said Helena. "If you won't tell him, I will."

Maria gasped. "You promised!" she protested.

"Only because you were threatening to leave," Helena said. "You came back here because you thought it was best for Alberto, right? You brought that herb here for the same reason. I'm telling you, the best thing for him, the safest thing, is if Massimo knows. And if I'm wrong," she added, "then I'll help you leave and I'll go with you, because a man who would hurt Alberto is not the one I thought I married. Okay?"

Maria hung her head. Helena's argument made some sense... but that fear just wouldn't go away. Massimo's collection of newspaper articles about sea monster sightings was pinned to a corkboard on the kitchen wall, right behind where Helena was standing. After all his boasting that he would bring one in and prove their existence, how would Massimo really feel if he found out he'd been living with one for weeks now?

"Maria," Helena said. "Please."

"I need to think about it," Maria said.

"You don't have to run and find him right now," Helena told her. "He'll be home for dinner. You can tell him then, and I'll help you."

Maria nodded, eyes squeezed shut. "I think I'd better go help Dario with the catch."

"I'll watch Alberto," Helena offered. She held out her arms, but after the performance Alberto had just put on, Maria didn't want to leave him again. She took him back downstairs with her, and sat him in a chair so she could keep an eye on him while she and Dario worked.

Of course, Alberto didn't stay there. He got up and wandered around, investigating whatever caught his eye. The first time he'd done this, he'd stepped in a puddle and transformed one foot into a flipper, but he had shoes now, so there was no more need to worry. He was fascinated by the fish, squid, and crabs from the day's catch, and Maria had to repeatedly stop him from touching them.

"Crabs pinch, Berto. You know that," she chided, shooing her son away from a bucket of them.

"Welcome to the Marcovaldo Pescheria!" Dario called out to a customer. "What can we do for you?"

Maria looked up – the visitor was Fernando Aretti, a friend of Albino Bagnasco's, and he wasn't looking at Dario. His eyes were on her.

"Signorina Marcovaldo?" he asked.

"Signora Scorfano," she corrected.

" Scusi , Signora Scorfano," Fernando said. "Did your brother come back here?"

"What?" Maria stood up straight, setting aside the fish she'd been gutting. "No... wasn't he at the old dock with Albino?"

"Yes, I was there with them," Fernando said, "but I went to get us some coffee, and when I came back, him and Albino were both gone."

For a moment Maria was terrified, thinking Massimo must have had another accident – but there didn't seem to be much that could have happened on the dock. More likely he'd just wandered off to do things he wasn't supposed to. Maria took a deep breath through her nose and let it out again, imagining herself literally blowing out steam like a kettle to keep from getting too angry.

"Thank you, Signor Aretti," she said. "Dario, can you manage alone for a few more minutes? Signora Marcovaldo and I have to go find your boss."

"Yes, Ma'am," said Dario.

With a scowl on her face, Maria grabbed Alberto, stamped back up the steps, and opened the kitchen door.

"Signora Marcovaldo!" she said. "You husband is being a disobedient child again!"

" Santo Pecorino ," Helena groaned. "Where is he?"

"I don't know, and neither does one of the gentlemen he went fishing with. I'm assuming the other is a co-conspirator." It made Maria wonder if Massimo had helped Albino disobey the doctor, too.

Helena put down the basket of laundry she'd been carrying, and grabbed her wrap. "All right. Let's find him, and give him a piece of our minds."

Maria nodded. For all their earlier disagreements, she and her sister-in-law were entirely of one mind now.