“Use my ocean as your—oh, what do you landlubbers call it? Dump?”
Shelly’s heart thumped fast.
Then the voice softened. “But don’t be afraid, my child. I’m here to help poor unfortunate souls like yourself. Souls who have problems that need fixing. It’s what I do!” The voice broke into a dark, churlish chuckle. Where was it coming from? Was there a creature with tentacles that could . . . talk?
“What happened to me? Where am I?” Shelly said, her voice echoing in the crystal ball. Peering down, she could faintly make out some sort of clawed, spiny pedestal that held it.
“You are a poor unfortunate soul,” the voice replied. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? My dear, you can trust Auntie Ursula.” There was another flash of something swimming through the cavern.
Shelly shied away from the glass, sitting in the ball with her arms wrapped around her knees. Was she a poor unfortunate soul? All the things that had gone wrong in her life lately flashed through her head. Her parents splitting. Her father moving out. Her moving with Dawson and their mother into the townhouse and changing schools. The Semester of No Friends, as she’d come to think of it—those few months at the beginning of the year. And now that she had friends—Kendall, Attina, and Alana—all she could think of was losing them. And where was she? Dreaming? How had she gotten there? Her memory was fuzzy, but she recalled the nautilus in the dark.
“Ursula . . . can you let me out of here?” asked Shelly.
“In time,” replied Ursula. “But first, what do you want even more than that?”
That caught Shelly off guard. She thought about it and said, “To be happy?”
“Is that it? Come on, now. I’m a very busy woman. Go ahead and make your wish.”
“A wish? You can grant wishes?” asked Shelly. The words felt funny leaving her mouth. How was any of this strange dream possible, if it even was a dream?
“Of course I can, silly girl,” said Ursula. “Now, what’ll it be?”
“But who . . .” Shelly began, feeling a stab of fear. “But what are you?”
“Oh, a good question, my dear. Some call me the sea witch.”
“You’re a witch?” Shelly asked, straining to get a glimpse of her captor in the dark. Something shifted in the shadows. She caught sight of a flash of what looked like white hair and a ripple of more black tentacles. Shelly backed against the curved glass, but then the voice probed at her again.
“Some called me the protector of Triton Bay, but not in many moons.”
“Well, are you a witch . . . or a protector?” asked Shelly.
“Would you believe that I’m both?” A deep chuckle—booming like thunder—emanated from the watery shadows. “Now, hurry up and make your wish. I really haven’t got all day.”
Shelly couldn’t explain it, but she felt like the voice understood her.
“One wish?” Shelly said, then bit her lip. She closed her eyes. What did she want more than anything? To patch up her family? To be popular? To get certain people to notice her?
Nothing was worse than having no friends. She couldn’t let that happen again.
There was one way she could be sure to get some popularity points. She needed to win her event against Judy Weisberg at the swim meet and advance to the championship meet. That way she could help her team win the trophy. That trophy mattered more than anything to Kendall, so Shelly had to do everything she could to help Kendall get her hands on it.
Shelly opened her eyes. “I want to be the fastest swimmer in Triton Bay,” she said, “so we can win the swim meet against Little River.”
“Oh, my dear, now, swimming is something I know a bit about.” The dark shape darted past the crystal ball again. Suddenly, an image projected onto the curved glass like a movie.
Shelly saw herself in the championship swim meet. She dove off the block and plunged into the pool, easily outswimming her archnemesis from the rival school and winning the freestyle race. She swam faster and faster, slapping the wall far ahead of Judy Weisberg.
The image morphed into one of her standing on the top of the podium with a gold medal draped around her neck. Kendall and her friends, still in their swimsuits, swim caps, and towels, cheered for her with their coach. She saw her proud parents and Dawson rooting in the stands.
Her mother then did something wild. She turned to Shelly’s father and hugged him. Was it possible they could get back together? Could their daughter’s winning the race make them remember how great their family was? This wish could make everything in her life better!
It was so clear, just like the crystal ball.
The vision in the crystal faded, and Shelly found herself staring at her warped reflection. “You can make all that happen?” Shelly asked. She wanted it so badly, more than she’d ever wanted anything. If she could be the fastest swimmer, then she could make her friends happy and, better yet, make her parents happy. Maybe even bring them back together again.
“Oh, my dear,” Ursula said, “all that and more.”
The vision reappeared in the glass.
Shelly ran her hand over the image of her family back together. She touched her friends’ jubilant faces and the gold medal hanging around her neck. The scene began to fade away again.
“No, wait! Bring it back!” She hit the glass, trying desperately to make the beautiful scene return. But it kept dissolving, like a sandcastle washing away in water on the shore.
“Well, my dear, there’s only one way to make it work,” Ursula said as the image faded.
“I want it! Please help me!” Shelly begged.
“Don’t fret, my child,” Ursula said. “Of course I can help—provided you pay a price.”
“Please. I’ll do anything!” cried Shelly.
“Anything, you say? Well, I like the sound of that. I have something in mind.”
Suddenly, a rolled-up piece of parchment materialized before Shelly inside the crystal ball. Hovering in the air in front of her, it glowed with the same eerie golden light as the nautilus had, and as it unrolled, a fountain pen with a bony fish tail materialized. Her eyes scanned the length of parchment as she read the ornate script.
“A . . . contract?” Shelly asked. She reread the words scrawled on the page:
I HEREBY GRANT UNTO URSULA, THE WITCH OF THE SEA, ONE FAVOR TO BE NAMED AT A LATER DATE, IN EXCHANGE FOR BECOMING THE FASTEST SWIMMER, FOR ALL ETERNITY.
“Go ahead and sign,” Ursula said. “I don’t have all day, you know.”
Shelly swallowed hard and put the pen to the page, which rippled with golden light.
“Good girl!” Ursula egged her on.
Shelly hesitated, biting her lip. “What favor, exactly? What do you want from me?”
“Oh, my dearie, all will be revealed in time,” Ursula said, sounding perturbed. She swam around, shifting in the shadows like a murky cloud of billowing smoke. Her eyes glinted hungrily for a second. “Great power was stolen from me by someone close to you. I cannot be a protector of the sea without it. All I want is for it to be returned to me . . . but all in good time.”
“Great power? But what is it?” asked Shelly.
“Tsk, tsk. You’re wasting our precious time!” Ursula’s black tentacle emerged from the darkness and tapped on the crystal ball, pointing at the contract. “Do you want to be the fastest swimmer, or not? Many poor unfortunate souls would kill to be in your position right now.”