Each baby born beneath the waves is killed--with one exception: the one hundred thousandth is spared. There's one rule shared between the island's tribes: don't touch the water. When Cressa-la breaks this law, her world, and body, changes. Sure, change is normal... but when has growing scales ever been normal? • • • Watty Award Winner 2015: Best Use of Visuals • • • Each baby born beneath the waves is killed--with one exception: the one hundred thousandth is spared. Among the spared, magic chooses a rare few, connecting them to the moon or sea. These are the One-Hundreds, mermaids and humans with the power to save the world-or corrupt it. When Cressa-la breaks the first rule of her tribe and touches the water surrounding her island, everything she knows turns on its head. Talking, sinister dolphins, mind control, and a whole world just under the waves await her on her eigteenth birthday... but she never asked for any of this. All she wanted was to become a Tribe Leader and take care of her village. It's amazing how one screw-up can change everything. A relentless darkness reaches for her, wanting her affections for his own twisted purposes. In opposition stands a fractured light, haunted by a painful past where corruption eroded friendship. Unless Cressa-la can bring the darkness to his knees and fight the war raging inside, the world is doomed. • • • Content warning: This story contains themes of depression and violence.

"What the hell?" I took a step closer to the mirror, staring at my reflection in disbelief. The person looking back was still me, but at the same time it wasn't. I had the same thick, dark, curly hair. The same hazel eyes. The same olive skin with a light dusting of freckles (ugh) scattered across the bridge of my nose. But my curls were now streaked with highlights. And not the subtle, golden-brown ones that sometimes appeared during the summer. No, these were an aggressive, dazzling blond that went from the roots of my hair all the way to the tips. It looked like I had spent a full day getting my hair done in some upscale salon. Never mind that I had never set foot in such a place since the day I was born. My eyes appeared somehow wider and more luminous. The colour brighter, my eyelashes darker up against them. And, when I looked closely, my pupils seemed to be slitted almost like a cat. I looked down at my body. My skinny arms-which had always refused to gain any definition no matter how hard I exercised-were lined with flat, wiry muscles. My bony shoulders were now curved and smooth. My scrawny legs were toned like a dancer. I reached down and lifted my shirt, revealing two subtle lines running vertically down my perfectly flat stomach, hinting at the rock-hard abs underneath. My whole body was rippling with strength. Like liquid steel.