She’s standing a few feet away with her back to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the sea creatures that have been watching over her come near the surface and wait. Eventually, she turns around.

“Omigod! Who are you?” she asks, peering at me carefully. I resist a smile and respond simply, “I’m Cat.”

She looks wary, but holds out her hand. “I’m Sareena. Where did you come from?”

I shake her hand a little awkwardly – it’s not something Grashiens usually do, but if it makes her feel better, I’ll do it. “How about you find out for yourself?” I offer.

“Wait, do you mean go with you?” She asks, sounding scared. “But, I don’t even know you!”

“Well, if you stay up here any longer, you’ll run out of food. We’ve decided to take you in,” Lea says, coming up behind me. “I’m Lea. Nice to meet you, Sareena,” my sister says, attempting to hold out her hand to shake.

The girl shakes my twin’s hand and looks around us like she’s trying to see someone else. “Don’t worry, we’re the only ones up here,” I assure her.

She nods. “Okay, so where are we supposed to be going?”

We smile. “You were so close to finding us earlier,” Lea says. “We were lucky you didn’t go through with your plan, because we weren’t ready yet,” I add, and we walk over to the mouth of the volcano.

She looks shocked. “We’re jumping in there!?” She pauses and shrugs. “Oh, what the heck. I was gonna do it earlier anyway, might as well do it now.” She walks up to the edge to join us. “What can I expect at the bottom? Burning lava?”

We try not to laugh. “Actually, there’s water where we’ll land,” Lea says.

“Go in like a knife,” I tell her. “Straight and smooth, or it’ll hurt.” My sister adds, “Pretend the goal is to not make a single ripple, and you’ll be on the right track.”

Sareena nods and stuffs her shaking hands in her pockets. “So just sort of slip off the edge, right?” We nod and jump. She casts one last look around, tightens her backpack straps, and follows us. We hurtle downwards, slipping into the water without a splash and barely a ripple. Lea wasn’t joking when she said that was the goal.

A moment later, Sareena’s plummet stops when she enters with only a small splash and a surprisingly small amount of ripple. We take a moment to exchange a surprised glance before diving under to pull her up. She gasps and splutters. “How’d I do?” she asks weakly.

My lips twitch toward I smile, but I hide it. “You did pretty well actually. Even your backpack is intact.”

“Oh good. I couldn’t bear to lose that,” she says, clutching it tightly.

Lea and I each wrap an arm around her. “Come on, let’s get to land,” Lea says, and we swim back.

“What is this place?” Sareena asks, sounding awed.

“This, little one, is Gras,” Lea says. “But I can’t tell you more until you meet the Sumna.”

“The soom-nuh?” she says. “What’s that?”

“Who, not what,” I correct. “She’s our chieftain.”

“Oh. Okay,” and she doesn’t say another word as we guide her to our leader.

When we reach the vine arch that we use as a gate, I turn to her. “All right, Pixie, we have to split off now. We’ll leave you with Rosie for the moment and meet you in there.”

“Pixie?” she sounds like she’s considering whether she likes it or not. “Okay. Who’s Rosie?”

Rosie steps out, her black hair shimmering even in its bun. “That would be me.” She smiles at Sareena. “I’m her twin sister. I’ll guide you through what to do while you’re in there.”

“Okay,” Sareena says, like she’s trying to sound stronger than she feels. She turns to us. “See you there?”

We nod and vanish through a side door. In the back, we quickly take off our dripping wet street clothes, meant for Amoran, and into our armor – black material as hard as diamond but as flexible as a gymnast’s leotard. We undo our hair and dry it off, braiding it and tying it up into a bun. We place our little circlets in our hair and pad into the ‘throne room.’ We take our places at either side of Mom, our siblings spread out in a semi-circle behind us.

Rosie enters, escorting a now-dry Sareena, who looks around with eyes the size of marela flowers (which have dark red blossoms up to eighteen inches wide). Rosie whispers in Sareena’s ear and she drops her eyes from where they were staring at the purple flowers in the ceiling. I again resist a smile as Rosie shows Sareena how to do a proper Grashien bow, with her left hand covering her eyes and her right arm extended to the side as if for a hug.

My mother responds by inclining her head. My siblings and I follow suit; one of my sisters, Serpent, wonders internally why we’re showing respect to this wisp of a girl from outside the tribes. I mentally chastise her. She’s stronger than she looks. And one or both of her parents were Grashien. This causes Serp’s eyes to widen and her head to drop.

My mother has studiously ignored what’s going on behind her and now addresses Sareena. “What is your full name, little one?” She asks.

Sareena ducks her head to avoid eye contact and says, “Sareena Melk.” She sounds like she wants to follow it up with ‘your majesty’ or something so my mom lets it slide.

“Please, relax a little. We don’t bite, I promise.” Mom’s smile is gentle, her eyes kind as Sareena finally looks directly at her and nods.

Mom’s voice is gentle too as she asks, “What are your parents’ names?”

Sareena tries not to flinch. “I never knew my parents, but I’m told their names were Arienne and Samuel Melk.” She pauses and looks like she’s holding back tears, but continues to stand straight. “They died in car crash not long after I was born. I ran away from my first foster home when I was two and a half. I’ve been on the run since.” Serp’s face is priceless as she realizes there might be more to this girl than she originally thought.

“Hmmm,” Mom says. “You have a sad tale, but you tell it with strength. If you’re willing to learn, we will teach you how to be Grashien.” Mom strokes Sareena’s shimmering golden hair. “And I will tell you now, one or both your parents were Grashien. Your physical development says as much.”

Sareena blushes. “I always thought it was weird. I mean, what eight-year old wears a B cup and has a period?” She looks embarrassed to have mentioned it, but stands her ground.

My mom smiles. “A Grashien does.” She turns to me and Lea. “I want you two to be her Gralentras.”

We exchange a weird look. “Two Gralentras? That’s nearly unheard of,” Lea points out.

Mom considers this. “Okay, then Cat, you’re her official mentor and Lea, you and Rosie are going to help Cat wherever you can.” Lea, Rosie and I nod our acquiescence.

“Great. Now, can we drop the formalities and just get to chatting with her?” This comes from Annamaria, usually known as Doe, one of the twins that are only two years younger than me. (I have a big family. Each generation of kids is two years apart – my older brother included)

Mom smiles again. “Of course. We should all go for a swim, I think,” and we cheer.

As we make our way out of the room, I grab Sareena’s shoulder. “I should warn you ahead of time,” I meet her eyes, “things like modesty and privacy don’t really exist here. I’ll explain more later, but don’t be surprised when you see people walking around anywhere from fully dressed to buck-naked. Also, we don’t wear bathing suits.”

Her face is bright red. “Okay,” she squeaks. “So what, I just drop my clothes?”

“Yup,” I say and begin shedding. She gasps but follows suit, starting like me with her hairpins. We’re almost fully naked by the time we get to the shore, where everyone else is waiting. “What are you guys waiting on us for?” I ask.

Andrew, my older brother, says, “We’re having a competition of who can create the least ripples without manipulating the water and didn’t feel it would be right to leave you out.”

“Okay,” I say, “but you guys first. I’ve got to keep an eye on someone.”

Each of my siblings climb the rock (it’s like fifteen feet high) and jumps or dives in. No one manages the no-ripple goal. Soon, the only ones left are me and Lea, who flashes me a grin as she climbs. When she enters the water, her ripple barely makes it two inches and there’s no splash. I smirk. “Would you like to try?” I ask Sareena. She looks at me. “Should I?” I smile. “Sure, go ahead. I’ll climb with you.” We climb the rock, Sareena slipping occasionally. She faces the drop-off and takes a breath. Then she jumps.

You can practically touch the surprise in the air as her ripples aren’t much bigger than Lea’s, with only a small splash. I grin and send a telepathic message to my siblings. And that’s why I wanted her to compete.

She surfaces and I jump, a perfect dive that makes no splash and creates no ripples. She stares at me in shock as I surface and my siblings grin. “Darn it,” Doe says, “I knew we shouldn’t have let her compete!” Everyone laughs.

“Hey, not my fault I can do it,” I tease. “It’s you all who haven’t practiced enough and still scare the fish who decided to challenge me.” Even so, I can’t help the tiny grin on my face.

Sareena swims up to me. “Why is everyone so blank-faced?” she whispers. “It’s like they don’t know how to have emotions.”

I chuckle quietly. “Pixie, Grashiens are taught to hide all emotion. Facial expressions, body language, vocal inflections, anything that could give away what we’re thinking or feeling we are taught to hide and fake. ‘Course, that doesn’t do much here since… I’ll tell you later, now’s not a good time. All right?” She nods. “However, we aren’t perfect and little bits slip through the cracks. A smile might not even crinkle the sides of our eyes, but if you look hard enough, you can still see it. If you keep an eye out, you’ll get used to our micro-expressions and will be able to tell the difference. Okay?” She nods again, swims over to Rosie, and starts chatting. I notice her carefully observing my sister’s expressions. Of course, so does Rosie, but she keeps moving her face the same way. I try not to smile as I swim over to Andrew, who’s looking at Sareena distrustfully.

“She’s a good person,” I say. He turns around. “She’s got a good heart and learns quickly.”

He nods. “Anyone with any sense could see that without even touching her mind. That’s not what I’m worried about.” He squints at her slightly. “What I’m worried about is whether she’s strong enough not to need an insane asylum once you’re done telling her stuff.”

“I think so,” I answer carefully. “I haven’t gone inside her head, but she was being honest earlier when she spoke of her childhood. I got the feeling she doesn’t really have anyone at home, and she had to be strong to speak of it at all.”

“I know. But still, how can we be sure?”

“I don’t suppose we can, can we? I mean, sometimes, you just have to put a little faith and trust in someone else.”