A feminine-presenting child with a dripping red stick in their fingers pushes past the crowd to give me a very judgy scowl. “On the beach? What’s wrong with you? Your mom should put you in time-out!”

I direct my glare toward this kid while the Language magic and Clarity powers I’ve been blessed with for the Journey sync up. The first to hear and speak any language with any being, the second to make concepts float through my mind so the words make sense.

A time-out. A punishment in which a juvenile is required to spend time alone, normally for purposes of betterment after misdeeds.

“That’s what this whole Journey is about, kid,” I say. “One monthlong time-out.”

“Okay, everybody,” Lifeguard says to the crowd. “You can go. Nothing to see here.”

People grumble about a waste of time and glare at me like I’m the one who asked them to cause a scene. I mean, honestly, I was minding my own business and they chose to come over here and make a big deal out of my arrival.

I feel a sense of relief when the crowd finally walks away. Everybody except one particularly nosy person.

Lifeguard still stares down at me, but it’s hard to tell if they’re actually looking at me or through me.

“Hello,” I say, and wave my hands in front of their face. “You can hear me, right?” I gingerly touch my neck and hum. Sound is still coming out, and the Elders never mentioned us spontaneously switching from speaking human back to mer. But if I’m all of a sudden talking a mystical language, this person is for sure going to think I’ve lost it, and I’m so not in the mood to have to start thinking quick on my fin—my feet—to come up with excuses for my weird behavior.

Lifeguard finally shakes their head and says, “Sorry. It’s just . . . never mind.” There’s distance in their voice. Their thoughts were somewhere else. “Need a hand?”

I stare at their thick fingers, the sad smile playing at the corners of their lips, the way their eyes seem innocent yet hurt all at the same time. But I know this trick. Humans can seem so sweet and harmless, like a little kid floating around in an inner tube at the beach. I’ve seen them from afar and they look adorable, but then they grow up to be destructive, murderous beasts who ruin everything they come into contact with. So I’d rather not risk it.