I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending. How long I can contain the storm I am becoming; the emotions pushed aside that grow and strengthen, clamoring for their release. I can resist only so much. One day I won’t be able to fake a smile or weave a lie. One day I am going to explode.

Magic isn’t something that can be explained: it simply is. It takes while it gives. So” – the spinner steps closer, his outstretched hand demanding – “I have given you magic, and now it must be paid.

I know I play with danger every time I swim, but I need this. I’m Mer and the ocean is mine.

The ocean has a voice, one that haunts me with its music every moment I’m awake. Even in my dreams it tugs on me, building the ache inside my bones until I can’t ignore who I am. My mother says the water is dangerous, that beyond the innocent whitecaps they’re waiting, but I never hear her over the call of the sea.

I’m a natural-born ninja saddled with the awkward grace of a drunk camel.