Page 5 of Kringle and the Kraken

His face twisted in surprise, his eyebrow crease deepening for a second like what I’d said wasn’t what he’d been expecting. For a heartbeat he just stared at me, then he shook his head and said, “I might be able to help you meet some folks in town. Maybe. I mean, if you’re interested in meeting a bunch of old men who love a good fish tale.”

“Fish tales are my favorite kind.”

Kris eyed me skeptically, then his mouth tipped up in a half smile making his beard twitch. “Mine too.” He held out a piece of red paper, and I took it.

It was an invitation to a holiday event. The graphics on the page were nicely done, and I more than appreciated the stylized kraken at the top. The shape of the head was technically incorrect, but it was a cool image all the same. My eyes skimmed over the rest of the page. “Oh, cool. You guys have a KELPS chapter.”

“You’ve heard of KELPS?”

“Uh, obviously.” I gestured to myself, a kraken, standing right in front of him. Of course I was part of the organization dedicated to protecting the cultural lore of my species. Did he not recognize the tentacle markings on my arms? It was kind of a dead giveaway. Maybe there weren’t any other krakens in town. I hadn’t met any so far, and we were a pretty rare sea monster species.

Again, Kris’s gaze traveled over me from head to foot, but this time when his eyes met mine, his expression said maybe weweren’t quite on the same page about something. And I had the niggling suspicion it might not be what he thought it was.

“What do you think KELPS stands for?” he asked.

“The Kraken Enthusiast and Lore Protection Society.” Kris’s eyes went as wide as sand dollars. “Is that not what you think it stands for?” The picture of a kraken on the flyer told me it had to be, but maybe I’d misinterpreted.

“No, that’s what it means, it’s just most people don’t care much about kraken lore let alone know that there is an international society dedicated to the continued study of the kraken. It’s sort of a niche area of interest.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.

That was an odd thing to say. Maybe he was new to Lifeboat and didn’t know that he had taken up residence in a haven town along one of the oceanic ley lines.

“How long have you lived here?”

Kris narrowed his eyes in confusion at my question. “What?”

“How long have you lived in Lifeboat?”

“Uh, my whole life, so thirty-eight years. Why?”

That didn’t make sense. Something strange was going on here. He’d been living amongst mythical sea creatures—krakens, kelpies, merfolk, sirens, and others—his entire life, and he had no idea? How was that possible? I knew the ley line havens all had their own cultures. For example, in Baleen on the northwest coast of Ireland, where my parents lived, the sea monsters in the town barely bothered expending the magic it would take to keep up a glamour unless there were visitors in town, which was exceedingly rare given the town’s location. It was completely normal to see a tentacle, fin, or gill while walking around town, and no one cared, but I was suddenly getting the feeling that was definitely not the case here. In fact, now that I thought about it, I hadn’t seen a single tentacle or scale since I’d arrived. Granted, I hadn’t been out and about all that much, but still. Somethingwas very different here than it was in Baleen, and I wasn’t sure I liked it.

It also made me wonder about the reasons my grandfather had for leaving Lifeboat back at the end of the nineteenth century. I knew he left because my grandmother was from Baleen, and her father was ill, but could it be possible there was more to it? Maybe he didn’t like living somewhere where he had to hide? Is that even what was going on? I knew my great grandfather had been mayor in Lifeboat. I couldn’t imagine he would have fostered the kind of community where people were forced to hide, but that was a long time ago. I wished I could ask my grandfather, but he and my grandmother had retired to a haven town in Norway where they spent most of their time in their kraken forms in what could only be described as an underwater retirement community for active adults housed in a deep lake within the haven town’s boundaries. Unless I went to visit, it would be very difficult to get in touch with him.

I got the feeling it would be best to pretend I wasn’t a mythical sea monster living among the human populace. For now.

“Uh, no reason. I was just curious. You know, since I’m very new in town.”

Kris nodded. “Right.”

A moment of charged silence fell between us, and I tried to find something else to say to keep Kris in my shop just a little longer. “What do you do for fun around here?”

“Not mu—” Kris started to respond, but the tinkling of the bell over the door made us both turn.

“Ah, our newest resident.” A tall, leanly built, blond man strode into the shop. His perfectly tailored gray suit and rolling gait made it look like he was walking a runway. He was objectively handsome, but I caught the aquiline shape of hisnose and the almost perfect roundness of his eyes. His suit and a clever glamour concealed his wings, but I knew they were there.

Kris rolled his eyes as the siren breezed past him, barely sparing him a glance.

“Mayor Calder Delmar. Welcome to Lifeboat.” He held out his hand, and I shook it. Most people assumed all sirens were women, but that wasn’t technically true. The women just got a bad rep because they were the hunters sent to the cliffs to sing and lure fish into their nets. Apparently, human men were as easy to sway with siren song as fish. Go figure.

“Levi Shoal.” A shudder completely unlike the one that had rolled through my tentacles when Kris and I had shaken hands slipped down my spine as Mayor Delmar’s gaze landed on my arms, and I knew he saw my tentacle markings for exactly what they were. “Uh, thank you.”

“I was hoping I might have a word.” The siren smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Sure. What can I do for you, Mayor Delmar?”

He laughed. “Please call me Calder.”

“Okay. What can I do for you, Calder?”

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