He snickers, materializing. “He won’t hurt you, Emma.”

“He’s getting closer. Galen.”

“He’s curious about you.”

“You mean about how I taste?” And why isn’t Galen speeding us away yet? Lesson learned already!

“No.” He laughs. “Although, I’m dying to know that myself.”

I whirl on him. “That’s not funny. At least you can Blend. Get us away from him. Please.”

He shakes his head. “He won’t hurt us. He’s a Knobby. Humans call them sperm whales. They eat squid mostly. I’ve never heard of one attacking our kind. He’s just coming over here to investigate—I swear it.” With one hand, he turns me around in his arms. The gigantic fish is so close I can see his eyes, which are about the size of my whole head. “Talk to him,” Galen whispers.

I gasp. “Have you lost your mind?” The trembling in my voice matches the trembling of my body. Galen’s nose nudging my neck calms me—a little.

“Emma, talk sweet to him. Tell him we won’t hurt him.”

We won’t hurt him? “You tell him. You’re the fish.”

“Emma, he understands you. He doesn’t understand me.”

“Galen, let’s go. Please. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll never step foot in the water again without your permission. Ever.”

He turns me around again and lifts my chin with his thumb. “Listen to me, Emma. I would never let anything happen to you. I’m trying to show you how special you are. But I need you to calm down.”

He grabs my face, doesn’t let me turn away. Locking eyes with me, he strokes my hair. Brushes his fingers against my cheek. Presses his forehead against mine. After about a minute, I do calm down. He smiles. “You stopped shaking.”

I nod.

“Are you ready to turn around?”

My gulp is involuntary. “Is he close?”

Galen nods. “He’s right behind you. Emma, if he wanted to eat you, he would have done it already. You’re only afraid of him because he’s so big. Once you get past that, it’s like talking to a goldfish.” I don’t get a chance to mull over the comparison because he whirls me around so fast, it startles both me and Goliath. “Talk to him, Emma.”

“What do I say to a whale, Galen?” I hiss.

“Tell him to come closer.”

“No way.”

“Fine. Tell him to back up.”

I nod. “Right. Okay.” I lace my fingers together to keep from wringing my hands raw. Even more than terror, I feel the insanity of the situation. I’m about to ask a fish the size of my house to make a U-turn. Because Galen, the man-fish behind me, doesn’t speak humpback. “Uh, can you please back away from me?” I say. I sound polite, like I’m asking him to buy some Girl Scout cookies.

I feel better in the few moments afterward because Goliath doesn’t move. It proves Galen doesn’t know what he’s talking about. It proves this whale can’t understand me, that I’m not some Snow White of the ocean. Except that, Goliath does start to turn away.

I look back at Galen. “That’s just a coincidence.”

Galen sighs. “You’re right. He probably mistook us for a relative or something. Tell him to do something else, Emma.”

“Galen, can’t we just—”

“Tell him.”

Goliath has put some distance between us. Now he only looks as big as a single school bus instead of three. The little movement it takes his enormous tail to fan him away reminds me of a flag swaying lazily in a gentle breeze. “Wait,” I call out. “Come back. You don’t have to leave.”

When that whale stops, when he turns around, when he lumbers toward us again, the doubt leaves my body like water from a busted hydrant. Goliath comes so close that if he opens his mouth we’ll be sucked in. He’s ugly. His giant noggin makes him look like a bobble head. And he forgot to floss; there’s a squid tentacle the size of my arm flapping out the side of his mouth. Hopefully it’s not still alive.

But I’m not afraid anymore. Galen is right. If Goliath wanted to eat us, he would have done it already. Those huge eyes seem gentle, not like the feral emptiness I expected to find. Not like the blank, mechanical stare of a shark.

“Talk to him,” Galen murmurs again, tightening his hold on my waist.

I do more than that. Galen lets me ease from his arms but holds my wrist for safekeeping. With my free hand, I reach out and touch Goliath’s nose—or at least, the vicinity of his nose. “I was afraid of you, because I thought you would eat us,” I tell him. “But you won’t eat us, will you?”

While I’m not expecting Goliath to start speaking with a French accent or anything, a small part of me expects him to communicate back to me somehow. Still, the way he shifts quietly with the current speaks decibels. He’s not tense or still, like a cobra ready to strike out. He’s calm, curious, serene.

“Listen. If you can understand what I’m saying, I want you to swim away in that direction,” I say, pointing to my right, “and then come back here.” Goliath does exactly what I tell him to. Nofreakingway.

My new friend follows us to the surface when my lungs get tight. On the way, Galen points to different fish to see if they all understand. As we pass, I call out my instructions. “Swim that way, swim in a circle. You swim fast, you swim slow, you swim straight down.” They all obey.