She followed the direction of the merman’s pointing arm, and squared her shoulders in determination as she saw the size of the final boulder. It was as long as her torso, and significantly wider.
Swimming to it, she wrapped her arms around it to get a good grip. Muscles bulged in her deceptively lean arms as she pulled the boulder from the smooth floor of the training area, holding it at chest height as she swam the mercifully short distance to the pile.
She dropped it with a grunt, turning to the merman for her next task. His eyebrows were once again raised, and it took him a moment to realize that she was waiting for instructions. Merletta suppressed a satisfied grin as he hurried to speak. He clearly hadn’t expected her to be able to lift that.
“Come over to these pillars,” he said.
Merletta followed obediently, and the merman put her through a series of exercises clearly designed to test her speed and reflexes. They were easy. Unlike most merpeople, Merletta hadn’t confined herself to the well-planned passageways and carefully structured gardens of the triple kingdoms. She was well used to darting through reefs, wending her way between sharp coral, and weaving in and out of schools of fish, as nimble as a minnow.
Her tester’s eyebrows drew closer and closer together as he watched her, but he made no comment on her performance.
Finally, he took her to another end of the training square, where an obstacle course of sorts was set up, with targets scratched into rocks at various angles. Under his instructions, Merletta picked up some small rocks, darting through the course and flicking them at the targets with a simple sling. As commanded, she stayed constantly in motion, not stopping to take aim. This test was also not especially difficult for her. She just had to imagine that the target was an angry barracuda she had accidentally disturbed. It wasn’t like she would normally stop to carefully line up her shot when being chased by a sharp-toothed—and venomous—predator.
When she completed the last stage, flipping around to face the final target with precisely the maneuver she had used on the shark that morning, she turned expectantly to the tester.
“You performed…well,” he admitted. He sounded a little begrudging, but Merletta still felt encouraged. It was clear he was impressed. He looked over his shoulder, and she realized the guard who had brought her was still there. He appeared equally surprised by her success.
The guard didn’t comment, just beckoning for her to follow before swimming out of the square. She followed him back to the recruit-master’s office, where she received an instruction that was beginning to be very familiar.
“Wait here,” he said gruffly. “Someone will be along to collect you in a minute.”
The guard made his way through one of the many openings coming from the lobby, and Merletta settled back into her same corner, resigning herself to a wait. She had been there for at least half an hour when her attention was caught by a group of several young merpeople swimming across the lobby toward the exit. They were eye-catching because they all wore matching armbands. The two girls in the group even wore uniform shells, not unlike the one Merletta wore from the home, but of much higher quality. Their progress was unhurried, and Merletta looked them over curiously as they approached.
One of the mermen glanced up and saw her watching them, his eyebrow rising slightly at her scrutiny. Merletta met his eye for a defiant second before lowering her gaze, telling herself to think like Tish and be inconspicuous.
“Who was that?” one of the girls said in an audible aside, as the group drifted past her. “Do you know her, Oliver?”
“No,” responded the young merman who had looked at her, his tone disinterested. “But she’s probably the new applicant.”
Merletta felt her neck warming at the disdain with which he said the last word, and the derisive noise which came from the girl who had spoken. News had certainly traveled quickly about her improbable application.
“So ridiculous,” the girl sniffed, speaking as though Merletta couldn’t hear her, although she must realize that she could. “Why would they waste time even giving her the test? It’s not like some orphan from Tilssted could actually pass it.”
The group was almost out of earshot now, but the voice of the other girl carried faintly back to Merletta. “Remember, the law requires the Center to allow any applicant from the triple kingdoms to undertake the test, Ileana.”
Merletta slightly relaxed her clenched fists, sucking in a deep mouthful of clear, cold water to calm her emotions. That’s right, she thought with grim satisfaction. They can’t deny me the chance to earn my place here.
And she was determined to earn it, no matter what anyone thought of her background. She would pass that test. She had to.
Unfortunately, she quickly discovered that this mood of powerful determination was difficult to sustain through prolonged waiting. After a while, her stomach began to rumble. She was tempted to slip away and eat the salted cod she had brought from the home, but she was worried someone would come for her while she was gone.
At long last, a middle-aged merman stuck his head into the waiting area and called curtly for her to follow him. He took her into a small office and gestured her onto a stone bench.
For a moment he just regarded her silently, and she tried not to fidget.
“I’ve been informed that you displayed a sufficient level of physical ability to continue with your testing.”
Merletta remained silent, heartened by the information.
“I have therefore been asked to administer the other application tests.”
The merman’s flat tone made Merletta think that he resented the waste of his time. Most likely he—and others—were hoping she would fail the physical tests without anyone even needing to organize the more complex testing.
The merman proceeded to rattle off a series of questions about her history, barely making eye contact the whole time. Merletta could see his lip curl more with each question she was unable to answer. She pushed down her embarrassment. She was well used to the disadvantages of growing up as an orphan without a family name. There was no reason to let it rattle her now.
Once he had drawn out what little information she could give him, he looked up from the large waxy kelp leaf on which he’d been making short or long slashes according to her answers.
“All right,” he said briskly. “The testing.”