Shelly studied the contract and considered her situation. Returning something that was stolen didn’t sound so bad. Stealing was wrong, of course. If anything, it would be good to right an old injustice. But still something worried Shelly. Her mother always said not to act hastily.
“Can I think about it?” she inquired.
“Think about it?” growled Ursula, no longer kind. “What’s there to think about, my child? Either you want your wish or I’ve got better things to do with my time and I can set you free to swim back through my cave with the hope you get out before something comes after you. It’s what a child like you deserves, for thinking it acceptable to throw your toxic trash into my domain.”
“I’m sorry. Please, I just need a day,” said Shelly, peering again at the contract. It flashed with an intense light, then vanished. Nearly complete darkness flooded back into the cavern.
“My dear, as you wish. You have twenty-four hours to return to my lair and sign the contract, or our deal shall be rendered null and void. No takebacks. No second chances.”
Six black tentacles suctioned around the glass, cracking the crystal ball.
Seawater rushed back in, silencing Shelly’s scream.
Shelly woke, gasping for breath and clawing at her throat.
Gradually, the nightmare released its dark hold on her as she sat up. Her eyes adjusted to the dawn light streaming through her bedroom curtains. Her pillow was damp, and her pajamas were soaked. For a second, she feared that her dream had been real, that her bed was wet from being underwater. But then she realized that she was just feverish and very sweaty.
“Only a dream,” she panted. “Only a nightmare . . . not real.”
The piercing alarm on her phone erupted, making her jump. It was intended to make sure she wasn’t late for school, but mostly it just gave her a scare every single morning it went off. She jabbed at the phone in annoyance, silencing it, then lay back and tried to recall her dream before the details faded away. She remembered following a strange, pulsing light into Dawson’s room. . . .
Why on earth had she dreamed about that?
But then more details surfaced. The nautilus . . . pulsing with yellow light. And when she had touched it, she was teleported into a dark underwater cavern . . . where Ursula offered to grant her a wish. I want to be the fastest swimmer. That had been her wish. She could remember it clearly. The details were fresh and sharp in her mind. But it wasn’t real, she reminded herself.
With that reassurance, Shelly climbed out of bed, padded to her closet, and examined her appearance in the mirror. She didn’t look feverish. She ran her fingers through her curly brown hair, still mussed from sleep. Nothing out of the ordinary, at least.
Shelly changed into her pink tracksuit and turned back toward her bed—and that was when she saw it. Her skin pricked. A soft gasp escaped her lips. “No. That’s impossible,” she blurted.
She rushed to her bedside table and blinked, thinking she must be seeing things. But no matter how many times she batted her eyes, it was still there, right beside her mermaid lamp.
The nautilus.
The one from the beach.
The one from her nightmare.
How had it ended up back in her room?
She studied it. Water had pooled around it. She struggled to understand how it got there. Dawson probably was snooping around her room again, like he always did. That was it! He probably left it there by mistake. How else could she explain it?
Feeling a surge of irritation—at both the nightmare and her snooping little brother—she reached for the shell. But then she hesitated. She didn’t want to touch it. She remembered that touching it in the dream had transported her to an undersea lair. She didn’t want to take any chances, even though she knew it was just a nightmare. Quickly, Shelly used a sock to protect her hand while she tossed the shell to the bottom of her laundry hamper. I’ll deal with you later, she thought as it vanished among dirty clothes.
With that, she flew from her room and to the kitchen. She quickly poured herself a bowl of cereal. A few minutes later, Dawson’s voice rang out. “Mom, I can’t find my shell!”
Shelly tried to ignore him and focus on her soggy cornflakes. But it was a lost cause.
A second later, her little brother charged into the kitchen with an indignant expression on his face. He wore a striped T-shirt, khaki shorts, and a red sheet tied over his shoulders like a cape. He had the same olive complexion and brown eyes as his sister, but his dark hair had an uneven, choppy bowl cut from when he had tried to give himself a new hairstyle, much to their mother’s horror. Now he was banned from playing with the scissors. He put his hands on his hips and squared off to face her. “I bet Shelly stole it!” he added.
Shelly glared at him. “I didn’t steal it. Besides, why would I give it to you just to take it?”
“Because it’s special,” Dawson said. “And you’re Shell-fish!”
Shelly rolled her eyes. “You probably lost it in that dumpster you call a room.”
Their mother ambled into the kitchen, workbag slung over her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“Mom, Shelly stole my shell,” Dawson whined. “And now she’s lying about it!”
Shelly rolled her eyes. “Mom, I didn’t steal it. He probably lost it.”
“Liar pants!” he cried.
“Shelly, did you take it?” her mother asked. “Maybe on accident?”
Shelly felt sick. She shrugged, not sure what to say. Had she stolen it? Had she been sleepwalking and taken it? Had Dawson been snooping around and left it in her room? All she knew was that she couldn’t afford to get in trouble. Not with the first swim meet coming up.
She had enough to worry about already.
Before she could respond, her mother checked her watch. “I’m going to be late for work,” she sighed. “You two need to stop fighting all the time. Now please apologize.”
“Okay, I’m sorry,” Shelly said, feeling guilty. “I’ll do better. I promise.”
After their mother kissed them each goodbye and headed for the door, Shelly approached Dawson. “Hey, bud, it’s time for school,” she said gently. “Listen, I’ll help you look for the shell tonight, okay? After I get home. And maybe we could clean up your room a little, too. Okay?”
Dawson snuffled but then relaxed. “Okay, thanks. I love you.”
She ruffled his hair. “I love you, too. Now let’s go!” After Shelly raced to the front door to grab her backpack, her eyes darted to her bedroom door, where a stain had formed on the carpet.
Wet footprints led from Dawson’s room to her door.
Probably from him taking a shower and not drying off.
But it still sent a tingle up her spine. The nightmare flared in her mind.
You have twenty-four hours to return to my lair . . . No takebacks. No second chances.
The sea witch’s voice echoed through her head. She shook it off, deciding to revisit everything soon. She didn’t have time to worry about it all now or they’d be late for the bus.
* * *
The bell rang, and Shelly darted from the bus into Triton Bay Middle School.
She wove through the crowded hallway, hoping that no one would see her. She missed her private school, which was smaller and less chaotic. She headed straight for her locker, scanning the halls for Kendall and the twins in hopes of seeing her friends. They would cheer her up after her nightmarish morning. They knew that Dawson sometimes got on her nerves. But to her dismay, she didn’t see them anywhere.