We swam down the stairway in our coral home, glowing corals shedding plenty of light. I wasn't even sure why we had stairs in the dome-shaped house when we didn't use them. Even if scuba divers were ever allowed on our moon, they wouldn't touch the steps either.

Perhaps our parents were still stuck in the past, back in the days when most merfolk hid among humans and walked on two legs. The oceans had been too polluted to live in, and most lakes had been drained to provide water for human use.

Blending in also meant that we had to go to Highschool, which had been a strange freedom. No strict parents and the teachers were way easier to deal with if you were at least semi-polite. The homework sucked, though.

I occasionally missed the lack of water resistance from my highschool days – dancing was much easier with two legs on solid ground. The thing I missed the most was being part of the cheerleader group. Nowhere near as flowing as a tail in water, but different.

We entered the kitchen and went to the table. I waited for Aunt Millie to notice my brass-colored necklace chain and matching bracelet. Neither matched my bikini.

She put a tray of food in the middle of the table: sea-plums, salted fish strips, cooked shrimp, and ocean biscuits so dense that even the surrounding ocean water barely softened them.

Everything always tasted like salt in the ocean. It was a good thing merfolk didn't have to worry about salt-poisoning. I took a bite of the dense biscuit, wishing I could turn it into a hamburger. Deep fryers weren't exactly a possibility under the sea. Maybe I could set up a floating restaurant on the surface once I was old enough.

Aunt Millie glanced at my jewelry. "Hmmm... I think I have a matching hairpin. Let me go check. I haven't worn it in years, so you might as well have it."

She left the room, leaving me to stare after her. That was not the reaction I had expected. I took another bite of my biscuit, trying to decide if just having my jewelry match was enough to appease the average fashion critic.

A face popped up on the other side of an open window. "Lucy! They stole it!"

I sighed and regarded the brown-haired teenage merman. "Did the lobsters steal your sister's pearl necklace again, Arai?"

That girl really needed to learn to close her closet door or put her jewelry away. The last time she forgot, it took us almost two weeks to figure out which freaking lobster burrow it had been hidden in.

"No! Some weird bubbling machines just took the Unobtanium stone!"

"Uh-huh. You know that isn't really something to joke about."

"I'm serious!"

I narrowed my eyes at him. I knew how to call potential bluffs like no other mermaid. "If you're lying, I'll be singing Happy Birthday to you for the next five years."

A shudder ran through him. "That is an evil thought. But I'm not lying!"

He didn't back out – so he wasn't lying. Mermaids were supposed to have beautiful, entrancing voices, but all my singing did was make everyone within hearing range cringe. It sounded like a squealing cockatiel with a gargling undertone. Even the small fish went into hiding like a bomb siren had gone off.

Aunt Millie swam back into the room, holding something in her hand. "Here is the hairpin. It even matches your necklace."

She swam over to me and pinned back a lock of my flowing hair.

"Aunt Millie, Arai says that some weird machines just took the Unobtanium stone!"

"Not possible, dear. The display stand it sits on emits a magnetic field that will fry any electrical circuits in a machine." She looked at Arai. "Besides, young man, that isn't exactly a joking matter."

My jaw dropped as her words echoed my earlier ones. There was no way I could be known as the teenager who acted like my Aunt. She didn't notice my stunned expression and went towards the door.

She gathered her drawstring bag with the musical conch shells and paused in the doorway. "Behave yourselves. If you break anything, you'll wish your parents were the ones punishing you. I suggest playing outside to avoid such a fate. I'll be back before dinner."

She left, and we looked at each other in silence.

"Let's go talk to your parents," I suggested.

I pulled out my hairpin and ran a hand through my unknotted hair. Being a mermaid had its perks – our hair never got tangled, and we never had to use shampoo or conditioner to have soft, silky hair. Which was fortunate because I had never managed to finish a bottle of shampoo at the exact same time my conditioner ran out. I put the pin in a better spot, to keep it from floating into my eyes.

"I already did," he said. "They didn't believe me either."

"Ugh. What about the King?"

"The entire council took off to a secret place for some important meeting. Most of the adults are there, too. The few I approached either didn't believe me or threatened to put me to work."

"Who else might listen?"

"Corvus believed me. He went to fetch Isla and said he'd meet us by the pedestal where the stone was."

"Then let's go," I said firmly, cramming the last of my biscuit in my mouth and slipping through the round window.

He took off, and I quickly caught up. Mermen – even the teens – may have had enough muscles to make a wrestler jealous, but their speed left something to be desired when compared to a mermaid's more streamlined form.

Beryl suddenly caught up and swam beside me, breathing hard, but keeping up with Arai's pace.

"You should go back and finish your breakfast," I told her.

"No! I'm coming to see if the rock is really gone!"

There was no point in arguing with her. There was no danger if the machines were gone. If the machines came back, I could send her off screaming for an adult. If someone had just hid it on Arai, I would try to sing the merfolk rendition of 'Under The Sea' as revenge, and everyone in the vicinity would be swimming away as fast as they could.

We rounded one of the huge columns of coral, and the pedestal was – indeed – empty. A dozen teenagers had gathered nearby, possibly brought by Corvus or Isla.

Isla swam over to us, asking Arai, "You saw machines take the stone?"

"Yes!" He faltered. "Although Millie said that nothing electronic could approach it."

"Corvus said that you saw lots of bubbles?"

"A steady stream of them. It was the only reason I even noticed."

"Well, then that actually makes it easy."

Everyone gave Isla a blank look.

"How does that make it easy?" Corvus asked, scratching his beard. The short puff of hair was rather impressive for a seventeen-year-old. It was a bit water-swept, but it suited him.

"Electronics can't get close, but there is one rather notable group nearby who doesn't use electricity." She looked at us expectantly, as if waiting for us to supply the response she was waiting for.

After several long moments of silence, it became clear that we had no idea what she was getting at.

"Brasslantis, obviously. They use steam and mechanical gears – they don't use wires or electricity."

"Oh!" Beryl exclaimed. "The steampunk city! Of course! The city floats above Mars and hides behind steam so no one can find them! They only use steam – not gasoline – in their machines! They love tea, and goggles, and gears! Their favorite clothing is leather! They always carry a teacup on them as well."

We all stared at her. She had clearly listened to a few stories I had ignored – or possibly made it all up on the spot. It was hard to tell with her sometimes.

"Well, that was an information dump I could have done without..." I said, clearing my throat. "But, at least now we know where they took the stone."

"Why is the stone important?" one of the girls asked, fiddling with a strand of her long blonde hair.

"Because it can do almost anything," Isla replied.

"You mean, like magic?"

"Not really. Nowadays, it's called plot convenience," Isla said, looking deep in thought. "I once heard that they use another such stone to make Brasslantis float, but it can only do one thing at a time, so they can't use it for anything else without their city crashing."

I added, "Our stone protects this moon from the cosmic radiation and solar flares."

Or I was pretty sure those were the words Aunt Millie had tossed around a few days ago during another one of her story-telling sprees. Then again, she had also been ranting about an entire coven of tax-evading vampire billionaires and some sort of invisible ninja that cut onions whenever someone nearby read a sad story.

"Yes," Isla said, "it powers the magnetosphere protecting Sealantis from cosmic radiation. But the King occasionally turns it off for an hour and makes it rebalance the salinity, cleanse the water, and ensure the optimum oxygen levels. Without it, Sealantis won't last more than a week."

At least I had part of my answer right.

"Well," I declared, "then we'll just have to go get it back."