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been telling herself for years that getting her tail would change everything. Once she looked like a real Kampii, she would suddenly become an invaluable member of the community and earn her siblings’ respect. Maybe even her father’s respect, too. But now, on the day of the ceremony, she faltered. Maybe a tail wouldn’t change enough. Maybe it wouldn’t change anything at all.
    “There,” Daphine said, and swam back a bit to admire her handiwork. “Pretty as a porpoise.”
    “Hey!”
    Daphine laughed again, and Aluna forgave her the insult.
    Aluna treaded water with six other girls and eight boys in a tiny cove near the ritual dome. The ceremonial robes fit loosely around her arms and legs, irritating her. She preferred her tight, sleeveless hunting leathers, designed for protection and speed. Dresses made her feel stupid, like she was trying to look as pretty as Daphine, when everyone knew she never would be.
    Despite the company, Aluna had never felt more alone. The other girls whispered to one another and kept looking at their legs. Soon they’d swallow the Ocean Seed and the ancestors would bestow their blessings. Their legs would change into tails. At thirteen, they’d finally be true Kampii.
    The transformation took several tides and was extremely painful. A rite of passage, the Elders called it, as if that somehow explained why it had to hurt. But everyone — every adult Kampii in the City of Shifting Tides — agreed that the pain was worth it.
    Elder Inoa came to fetch them. A fit Kampii in her late fifties, Inoa wore a bright-white robe cinched at the waist with a green cord and decorated with pearls and sparkle shells. Eight thin bracelets slid up and down her right arm, one for each of her children. Her flowing skirt was embroidered with the ancient Kampii seahorse and billowed around her tail in the morning current.
    Aluna’s chest swelled. She looked at her companions and saw the same mix of pride, excitement, and terror reflected on their faces. They followed the Elder in an ordered line, as they had seen Kampii do in years before this.
    It looked as if the entire population of the City of Shifting Tides had come to watch the festivities. Kampii clustered around the entrance hatch to the ritual dome, cheering and shouting blessings of luck as Aluna and the others swam by. Spectators weren’t allowed inside the dome during the ceremony, but that didn’t stop Kampii from pressing their faces to the dome’s glassy surface and watching from the outside.
    Once Aluna entered the ritual dome, the mood changed completely. The dome’s sound shield dulled the cheers to a distant murmur, and its curved glass walls had been darkened to black. The spectators could see in, but Aluna and the other ceremony participants couldn’t see out. The Elders had granted them the illusion of privacy.
    Daphine and Hoku were out there somewhere, but her brothers were not. On ceremony days, the hunters had to catch three times as many fish for the feast. Pilipo, Ehu, and Anadar were scouring the ocean, swimming far and fast, looking for prey to honor the ocean spirits and their ancestors.
    Elder Inoa shut the entrance hatch, and the world fell silent. Aluna followed the others to a small cluster of resting sticks dotting the center of the dome, wishing her heart would slow to its normal pace. Or at least stop beating so loudly in her head. She wrapped her legs around her resting stick, careful not to bend her knees too tightly. If past ceremonies were any indication, the Elders would drone on and on. She didn’t want her legs falling asleep or going numb.
    “First to speak will be Elder Kapono,” Elder Inoa said, and took her place with the other Elders. Aluna’s father swam forward.
    In his ritual clothes, he looked even more intimidating than usual. His flowing white tunic emphasized his dark skin. Shells and bits of kelp had been woven into his long, graying braids. Had Daphine done his hair before or after hers?