Ms. Terri was joined by the headmaster and several officers in the pools near the upper level of the school, where the stricken merboy lay, an egg-shaped bruise swelling on his temple. He was struggling mightily, and looked to be in pain, but as soon as the guards lowered him back into the pool he relaxed.

Looking closely at his neck, Ms. Terri saw a line of grime where the attachments should’ve been. She reached forward and wiped away the muck, only to reveal bare skin.

“He’s natural,” she breathed, the awe in her voice mirrored in the wide-eyed disbelief of those around her.

The guard with his arm around the boy’s midsection lifted him up slightly, so they could all get a look at his flash-green fin. No waist surgery was evident. It was as if the fin simply extended naturally from his torso.

“How is this possible?” the headmaster whispered. He was voicing what everyone in the room was thinking.

Terri leaned down to the boy’s head and said, “are you alright, hun?”

His eyes fluttered mightily, as if he were struggling to get them opened.

“Easy, son,” said the guard, wrapping a strong hold around the merboy in case he decided to flee. At the moment he didn’t seem to have any such energy, but he’d been strong as a bull just a few moments ago.

The boy’s eyes opened, and he said something in a high-pitched, scratchy voice.

The adults looked at each other. None recognized the dialect.

“From some other city?” headmaster Oliver wondered.

“Or some other planet,” quipped the other city guard. In reaction to the dirty looks he added, “well just look at him. He’s unnatural.”

In Ms. Terri’s view it was quite the opposite, but she understood the opinion. The boy wasn’t remotely similar to citizens of The Shallows, that was for sure. Even if he were full-gill enhanced, which didn’t seem the case, even if that were true he’d have been much too young for it. There were no cities Terri was aware of that allowed for anyone not yet of age to undergo the procedure. But again, he didn’t seem as if he’d had any procedure done whatever. He seemed to be a pure, true merman. Or at least a merboy, soon to become a man.

And magical, she couldn’t forget that. The odd way he drew her to him. It wasn’t natural either, that much was true. There was nothing natural about it, though it’d been seductively enticing.

Where did you come from, she wondered. And beyond that, she wondered if this mysterious appearance had something to do with all those disappearances they’d been experiencing. It seemed to odd to be anything coincidental.

* * *

Within the hour, the school practically felt like city guard headquarters, what with all the officers who’d come to see the merboy. That he would appear in a school for girls, right around the time that a number of those girls went missing, seemed rather odd on the face of it. But even more perplexing was the fact that they couldn’t even ask him about it.

He’d been joined by a number of full-gill officers, so they could communicate with him naturally, underwater. But that wasn’t the starkest of their communication difficulties. In fact, the boy could tread just above the neckline and talk to anyone in dead air, and he was able to surface for some minutes at a time at any rate. He didn’t express any of the sort of discomfort he’d experienced when he was out cold. Even so, above water or below, there was no speaking with the lad.

His language was entirely unfamiliar, unlike any coastal dialects or foreign tongues taught at the school. It was altogether alien. When he spoke, the high pitch they’d heard in air became full and resonant under the water, a sonorous, sing-songy cadence that sounded lovely, but made no sense at all.

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And it wasn’t much different when they tried to speak with him. He listened attentively enough, smiling and appreciative, but he didn’t seem to catch a word of it. It was as if they were speaking gibberish, and he didn’t bother trying to reply.

It was only when Ms. Terri brought out a picture book that they started making headway. Used for the youngest of the young, it contained pictures of the city, the walkways and waterways, the surrounding waters, sea creatures, and the like. The boy was immediately intrigued, pointing to dolphins and fishes and parts of the city with a knowing grin.

As Ms. Terri voiced each of these components, the boy attempted to mimic her, and given her skills as an educator she soon had the boy voicing a rudimentary vocabulary. When she pointed to herself and said, “Ms. Terri, I’m Ms. Terri,” he seemed to understand her meaning straight away.

He pointed to his own chest and said, “Kyle, I. I Kyle,” in that sing-songy voice.

Ms. Terri ignored the hypnotic quality it conveyed, instead focusing on her role as educator. “Good, Kyle! You are Kyle. I’m Ms. Terri.”

“Telly,” he boomed, then burst into laughter that filled the chamber. Ms. Terri chuckled, her tone encouraging. “Good try, Kyle. You’re doing well.”

* * *

“Does someone want to tell me exactly what we’re supposed to be doing with this…boy?” asked the chief of the guards. He’d made a special trip to the school just to speak with the headmaster, and find out what was going on.

In the short span of a day, Headmaster Oliver had gone from high-suspect kidnapper extraordinaire, to sudden consultant to the city guards, all thanks to the mysterious appearance of this alien merboy at his school. Somehow this incredible X-factor changed the rules all around, and the officers were no longer looking on Oliver or his companions with the same kind of suspicion.

While he appreciated the gesture of faith mightily—given how it placed him on the right side of the law and all—he was a little put out by the fact that the chief of the city guards now seemed to be relying on him for all the answers he himself could not deliver.

“I honestly can’t tell you, sir,” Oliver answered truthfully, “except to say that a school for girls is clearly no place for the boy.”

Oliver turned to Mr. Albi and said, “I take it there’s no need for the boy to be hospitalized?”

“Not at all, the school nurse took a look at that bump on his noggin. He’s tough. He’ll be alright.”

“Now sir,” said the chief, “are we any closer to communicating with the boy?”

“Not in any meaningful capacity,” said the headmaster, “no sir.”

“In that case, I suppose there’s no way to question him on the whereabouts of those missing girls.”

“What makes you think Kyle knows anything about the girls?” asked Ms. Terri.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Oliver, “perhaps just the fact that this alien creature right around the time those girls went missing. A creature who has no business in the city at all. Do you not think that might be something of a coincidence?”

“What if it is?”

“I’m sorry?”

“A coincidence. What if the girls simply ran away, and Kyle ran away too. Found himself in the city, and made his way into the school because it seemed a safe place to be.”

The chief didn’t look as though he was buying it. “If we get no further, I’ll accept the idea that it’s a stroke of luck, but for now I’m inclined to at least want his side of the story first. Is there any possible way that we could communicate with this youngster?”

“I honestly can’t see how, with our limited time,” Ms. Terri said, “unless you’re somehow able to find a linguistics expert.”

“You’ve found him,” called a resonant voice from across the room.

All eyes shifted to the new arrival, and Mr. Albi let out a gasp. A stout, professorial man stepped forward, his movements remarkably fluid given his age. Wisps of foam-white hair floated around his face, framing round features and keen, knowing eyes. His presence radiated an eccentric, commanding authority.

“Headmaster,” the stranger continued, “thank you for the call.”

Oliver nodded deferentially, as the rest of them worked to process this new dynamic, none more than Mr. Albi, who looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

“The name’s Orwen. Orwen Albi,” he declared, the familial name landing like a challenge as he winked at his stunned grandson. “I’m an expert on native mer-cultures, and I’m here to speak with the boy.”

As he strode forward, an intense thrumming shook the chamber, followed by a deep, rhythmic pulse, like an ancient heartbeat. It was a sound they all knew by now—familiar, yet no less disconcerting. Only the boy and the old man seemed unconcerned.

Looking square at Orwen, the merboy opened his mouth and uttered a single, joyful tone. The group exchanged uneasy glances, their hands instinctively seeking support as the resonant pulsing increased, vibrating through air and water like some living force.

“Grandfather,” Mr. Albi called, his voice breaking through the tension. “What’s happening? What is he saying?”

Orwen turned to his grandson, then swept his gaze over the group, his voice an ocean of calm. “He says, ‘They’re coming.’”

Behind him, the boy let out a joyous laugh that bubbled the waters into a frothy foam as he power-stroked around the tank in time with the ancient rhythm.