The invitation electrified the atmosphere. Everyone oohed and aahed. Dea could only goggle at his face, her mouth ajar. The world appeared to recede into the distance—as did the babble of voices.

A simulation of the banquet started autoplaying in her mind, complete with magic and sparkles. This is it! I can unveil my true nature at this grand event! The ramifications of humans discovering merpeople exceeded her processing capacity at that moment, but she knew it would usher forth a new pro-human era. She fast-forwarded to a mesmerizing montage of possibilities.

"Aney, that's very nice of you, Mr. Goonewardane," Shiromi said next to him. "But Dea's been separated from her family. The police found her wandering alone near a shanty neighborhood just this afternoon."

"Oh." Dilip's face displayed total confusion. "What exactly happened?"

"I've been waiting to hear the story myself." The matron turned to Dea. "Didn't you say you needed to meet someone? Your family must be worried."

It's like I'm Burpy. Dea beamed at her and reached for her ogi. "Everything's fine. Thank you for helping me! I accept the invitation."

"Well, I understand you'd want to go, dear." She sighed. "An hour or two won't hurt, I believe."

"It's settled then." Dilip got to his feet. "I look forward to seeing you again. I can arrange transport as well."

Dea blinked. "That's kind of you. I'd need a big vehicle though."

"Right." His eyes roved over the Cypod. "I'll send an SUV. The driver will stow it away at the back."

"Actually, I'd need something bigger then, because I don't want to get out of my Cypod."

A child's sneeze was all that greeted her statement.

Mihiri poked her and hissed, "Are you asking him to send you a truck?"

Dea straightened up and tapped out a message. "I prefer to use the bus."

"Very well then," Dilip said, breaking the awkwardness. "It's not far from here. Let me know if you change your mind."

One of the men gave her a slip of paper with the address. It was the same address she had in her possession.

After Dilip Goonewardane left, the girls burst into excited babble. Merlingo failed to translate most of the colloquial words, some of which sounded like "marai" and "shok". Dea couldn't help grinning, her face feeling warmer than Gramma's heating pad.

"You're so lucky!" Jee bounced on the balls of her feet.

A child no older than twelve pouted grumpily, prompting Mihiri to poke her. "Don't be jealous, you."

Shiromi called out over the laughter, "Now, children, let Dea get some rest. So much excitement today—and now this event tonight as well."

Soon afterwards, Dea found herself in a ground floor dormitory that was apparently occupied by four teens. Her eyes skimmed over bunk beds and tables that barely left any space to move. Two windows, fortified with grilles, looked out onto a patch of sky, now lit up in the prismatic colors of sunset. Orange beams spilled in and cast long shadows.

After failed attempts to get her to divulge information, the matron left to help the cook with dinner preparations.

Mihiri and Jee flung themselves onto a bed and started whacking each other with a pillow. Dea laughed, wishing she could slide out of the Cypod. My butt would probably need massaging after this is all over. Why does it have to ache already?

"Yo," a bored voice called from the top bunk. "Don't mess up the bed. Husie's going to come after you."

Dea craned her neck to catch a glimpse of the human sprawled on the top bunk.

Mihiri leaned towards her and whispered, "Don't mind her. She's fifteen. Miss Shiromi says it's a phase."

Oh, the angsty teen stereotype. Humans have it too. Dea nodded, fidgeting to ease the pressure on her bottom.

Jee gave the other child a push and wriggled to the edge of the bed. "So, you'd better get ready then! What will you wear?"

She frowned, her brain pondering the question for the first time.

"We'd have to lend her something," Mihiri said, returning the push.

"Lend her what, crazy? Do you have an evening gown lying around?"

"This is a strange material." Mihiri peered at Dea's top. "Reminds me of swimsuits."

Dea glanced at her top, the mauve now desaturated under the elongating shadows. She had no idea what the human dress code was for such an occasion, but her mind strayed to the spare outfit in her travel sack. Maybe that's more suitable.

"I have something for your hair!" Jee suddenly said, a grin dimpling her cheeks.

Dea perked up. "What?"

An instant later, the girl arrived with a hairpin clutched in her hand. It took the shape of a flying insect, silver wings moving in the air.

"Ooh," Dea said. "What do you call it?"

The kids gave her a funny look, and Mihiri giggled. "It's like you've never seen one before. We call it a samanalaya."

They proceeded to brush her hair until it shone. Memories surged up—that of lazy evenings at Hima's place. It made her wonder what her friend was up to now. Human kids are doing my hair, Hima! Dea wished she could whip out her ogi and snap a group selfie.

Jee gave her hair the final touch with the insect pin. "There. Your hair smells so nice."

"Cherries, right?" Mihiri said, sniffing. "Strong shampoo. I could smell it all the way from the bed."

"Oh, really?" Dea watched them in surprise. "You can do that?"

The kid just shrugged. "Yeah."

She fingered the hairpin appreciatively. "I'll return this later."

"No, you can keep it," Jee said. "It suits you."

Struck by the kind gesture, Dea flashed both of them a buoyant smile. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome."

A persistent twinge in her bottom decided her next course of action. No way I'm going anywhere unless I get out of this and stretch my tail.

"Are you alright, Dea?" Mihiri asked with a thoughtful expression. "You look like your butt is itching."

Dea's hand delved into her bag to compose a reply. "I'm going to head out."

"You can't just go!"

"That's why I need your help!"

They exchanged a look.

She hastened to elaborate. "I'm going to be fine. If Miss Shiromi asks, say that I sneaked out without you knowing."

"But where are you going?" Jee whispered, eyes like saucers.

Dea hurled a worried glance at the girl on the top bunk. "It's a secret."

"Don't worry—she didn't hear any of that."

"How do you know?"

The kid pointed at a languid hand that dangled at the side of the bed. "When the fingers twitch, it means she has headphones on."

Dea had no idea what headphones were, but she nodded.

Mihiri and Jee went out to scout the area. Then they signaled for Dea to come out.

The horde of kids had dispersed, and the lobby now darkened under the waning sun. Muted clinks and clatters wafted out from the kitchen, partially visible through the doorway.

Jee carefully unlocked the front door and whispered, "When are you coming back, Dea?"

"I'm not sure..."

Mihiri exhaled a whoosh of air and flicked a glance at the kitchen. "Be careful!"

"Thank you!"

"Go before Miss Shiromi comes!"

Dea waved goodbye and rolled the Cypod outside, now bathed in the pinks and purples of twilight. Back on the sidewalk, she stared up at the night creatures that flew across the sky like a swarm of sea rays. Inhaling deeply, she grabbed the ogi and picked the fastest route back to the cove.

As she set off, numerous lights blinked on in the street—much to her relief. She wove through pedestrians and cones of lamplight while vehicles droned by, their squeals rising and falling in a Doppler effect. She had no idea how long it would take her to get to the submersible, but she powered on as fast as her land machine could take her.

The Cypod took half an hour to reach the coast. When she neared the shanties, her mounting trepidation pushed her system into high alert mode. Pinpricks of light gave her visual confirmation of the shanties' location, while the factory building's floodlight pierced the night as if to lure her back into its bowels. Give that freaky factory place a wide berth, and you should be fine!

That was when she noticed a tiny yellow light on the armrest. The Cypod had switched to energy-saving mode. Even her ogi battery had drained considerably.

"Well, I'm going to have to charge everything now," Dea muttered to herself, wondering how much power she could siphon off the Little Angler without disabling it.

Going off-road was daunting, despite the glow of the gibbous moon. The undergrowth lay shrouded in darkness, and an unfamiliar soundscape of nocturnal land life now enveloped her. To her fascination, she encountered bioluminescence that brought to mind the deep sea. It turned out to be fireflies that twinkled an eerie chartreuse glow. She shot out a steady stream of pulses to avoid the bumpiest patches, while the ogi's sonar mapped out a wider area for her benefit.

The rushing waves were music to her ears, making her spirits surge at the prospect of jumping back into the water. As the ground shifted to sand, the Cypod wheels sank ever so slightly, and salty wind blew on her face. The ocean soon inched into view.

Before Dea could rejoice, however, a mangrove sapling snapped—a sharp sound that sliced the stillness. She jerked to a stop.

Even as her eyes darted to the sonar feed, footsteps thudded closer, accompanied by shouts. Panic immobilized her for a fleeting instant, and she opened her mouth in a silent scream. Three human shapes were approaching fast.

Merlingo translated the words. "It's her! It's definitely her!"

She wheeled around and fled.

The Cypod jounced on the rough terrain, sending spasms of pain up her back. Rocks crunched and wind swished, drowning out her shallow breaths. Dea knew that she stood no chance of outperforming the humans and their legs—not in the wild. Even though she had echolocation to navigate through the dark, their confident run demonstrated that this was their turf. To make matters worse, the Cypod wasn't as fast as before.

She veered in the direction of the road—her highest chance of escape.

A hand raked against the moving Cypod. Dea shrieked.

The thrill of the chase was great for feral humans, judging by the triumphant grunt that issued from behind. It awakened a dormant beast in her.

When another hand attempted to grab the armrest, she gritted her teeth and slammed an elbow on it. The hand receded with a howl. Red-hot anger raised its head again, and she side-rammed the man, sending him sprawling into a bush.

She reached a ribbon of road with coconuts palms on either side. The triumph she experienced was short-lived.

The Cypod Terra went dead.

Her eyes widened in abject terror when two of her pursuers emerged into her line of vision. Their faces shone with sweat under a lone street lamp. The last to arrive was none other than the lumbering drunk in all his walrus flab.

Merlingo translated the words that spouted out of him, "Well, didn't think I'd see you again, little bird."

Dea said nothing. Even Hima with her defensive skills wouldn't have had a chance against multiple opponents—on land, no less. She rummaged desperately in her bag for the pocket knife. It was time to make her last stand.

"Feisty, aren't you?" another man growled, his cheek now sporting a plaster.

Fear made it difficult to think. Then her hand closed over a sleek object in the backpack. The brine pool jerk's communicator!

The irony of seeking help from those whom she wanted to avoid wasn't lost on her. She also knew no help could come from the deep sea to save her from immediate danger. Yet, her panicky fingers jabbed at the tiny button to turn it on.

The humans approached her, spewing out more words that Merlingo barely managed to translate.

Dea gripped the object with a shaky hand. She pressed the icons the way Muda had instructed her, just before the lair belched her out into the ocean.

When the men closed the gap between them, she brought it to her mouth. "Please help me."

As if in answer, headlights materialized in the distance and hurtled towards them with frightening speed. All three humans spun around, letting out exclamations in unison. A large vehicle, which Dea thought must be an SUV, became discernible.

It roared to a halt just meters from them, ultra-black contours gleaming in the moonlight. Her heart thundered in her chest.

A black-clad male leaped down like a swooping phantom and slammed the vehicle's door in his wake. One hand held a gun.

Dea gasped.

No one moved.

He cocked the firearm. The men took off with the haste of spooked squid, except they were far from graceful in their stumbling run.

As the newcomer passed under the street lamp, she knew without a fraction of a doubt who it was. No, this isn't possible.

The Sea Witch stood before her—on human legs.

Animal: Vampire Squid

https://youtu.be/UgR6yAffsZg