“Well,” Merletta said, considering his words, “even if you’re right, I don’t see that it really changes anything. I’ll just have to take whatever they send my way.”
Emil’s eyes were troubled as they rested not on Merletta, but on Sage. “It might not just be your way they send it, of course.”
His gaze was a mixture of disapproval and concern. It tugged at Merletta’s memory, until she suddenly knew where she’d seen it before. In Heath’s eyes, mere hours before, when he’d told her that he didn’t like her plan. Merletta sucked in a stream of water, realization cascading over her. How long had that been going on? And how had she been so blind as to miss it? As she cast her mind quickly back over many interactions, a further wave of understanding crashed over her, filling her with sympathy for Emil’s frustratingly cautious approach.
“I don’t have any desire to put anyone else in danger,” Merletta said, her softened tone drawing Emil’s eyes back to her. “Surely none of you are at serious risk just from being my friends. Not when you’re all so well-connected, with families who would not only notice if something happened to you, but would set up an outcry. I’m not asking anything further of any of you.”
“I think it’s about time we did something,” Andre chimed in, looking unimpressed at what he clearly thought was lack of courage from Emil. “And I want to help.”
“I appreciate it, Andre,” she said quickly. “But I truly didn’t call you here to ask anything of you.”
“Why did you call us here, then?” Sage demanded.
“To tell you everything,” said Merletta. “When I saw how unashamed those educators were of their own deception, I realized where unthinking compliance leads. It was confronting, to be honest, and it made me question myself as well. I realized that although I’ve been telling myself that I was playing along for a purpose, I’d become casual about the truth, too. How can I criticize the Center for its deception when I’ve been hiding things from my own friends?”
She nodded at Andre. “Like how I delayed telling you about August for weeks, on flimsy excuses.” She squared her shoulders. “But that’s the least of it. I’ve told you all a lot of what I’ve discovered, but I haven’t told you the biggest thing. I think even after all the unearned support you’ve given me, I was still afraid you wouldn’t believe me. And you deserve more trust than that.”
“What do you mean?” Sage sounded alarmed. “What more is there?”
Merletta met her eyes. “Remember how I told you that the name of the island where I met Heath is Vazula?”
Sage nodded, and Emil made a noise of surprise.
Merletta turned to him. “Exactly. Like from the second year test. It’s no coincidence. We have some kind of history there. I can only assume it’s a history that involves the humans who used to live there.”
“Why do you assume that?” Emil asked.
“Because…” Merletta’s eyes flicked between her three friends, trying to assess their reactions. “There’s so much more to the lies about humans than you even know. It’s not just that humans are as intelligent as we are. It’s that we are humans, or at least I think we were once.”
“What in the tides are you talking about?” Andre demanded.
Merletta rolled her shoulders, trying to banish the fear that still lurked—that they’d all think she was mad.
“The day after my first year test,” she said, “when I disappeared, and August’s patrol saw the human, I ended up on the beach at the island, trying to pull Heath from the water and save him from his spear injuries. The only way to get him to safety was to physically pull him all the way up the sand. Which ultimately led to me drying out.”
Sage’s eyes were as round as pearls, but no one spoke. They were all tense, perhaps sensing that whatever was coming next would change everything.
“Which is how I found out,” Merletta continued, “that drying out doesn’t kill us, like we’ve been told.” She looked at Emil, trying to read whether the young record holder already knew what she was going to say. “It causes us to transform. My tail disappeared completely, and instead I had legs. Human legs.”
“Impossible,” Sage breathed.
Merletta shook her head. “It’s true, I promise. That’s what I spent my month of leave doing after first year. I wasn’t at the island. I was on the island, learning to walk, and run, and jump like a human.”
No one spoke.
“And it’s not just me,” Merletta continued. “August, Paul, and Griffin have all found their legs. And Eloise, now,” she added as an afterthought. “You can go and ask her if you don’t believe me.”
“We believe you,” Emil assured her, looking unusually pale, even for him. “It’s just…hard to take in.”
Relief flooded Merletta, and she nodded. “I understand. So you truly didn’t know? It’s not covered in fourth year, or told to graduated record holders or something?”
“Definitely not,” Emil said faintly. “I’ve heard very senior record holders talking about merfolk who’ve died by drying out.”
Merletta thought this over. Was there a possibility, even the slimmest of possibilities, that no one actually knew? That it was information which had been lost in the murky depths of unrecorded history? That sharing that information would be hailed as a contribution rather than an attack?
She pictured the shrewd gray eyes of the Record Master as he’d studied her in the central spire that very morning.
No.