“So, how old are you really?”
Lizzie stared at Shrub like axolotls were spewing out of her ears. “What?”
“Well, I mean, I’m around 116,” Shrub said with a shrug.
Lizzie’s jaw actually dropped, and Shrub laughed. “What- you’re joking, right?” The Ocean Queen demanded. “That was a joke? You’re, like, eighteen!”
Shrub frowned slightly. “Oh. Does your species count age differently?”
“My species… humans?” Lizzie demanded. “Aren’t you- oh. I’m an idiot.” Of course Shrub would consider age differently. “You’re a gnome. Right. Sorry.”
“What gave it away?” Shrub asked. “No, don’t tell me, it was the height.”
Lizzie couldn’t help but reach out and pat her on the head. “I’m sure you’re very tall for a gnome.”
“I am! Don’t patronize me!” Shrub batted her hand away. Lizzie grabbed hers and yanked forward so the small woman stumbled off the mushroom stool she was sitting on. This very awkwardly resulted in Shrub pressed against her chest, hands resting on the stone Lizzie was leaning against. She looked up, and Lizzie admired the way her amber eyes matched the sun above perfectly.
“Um,” Shrub squeaked, face red as her mushroom cap. Lizzie imagined hers looked quite the same. The gnome bit her lip, and for a moment Lizzie considered kissing her.
NOPE! NonononononononoNO. Off-limits! Shrub had just confessed to being almost a decade older than she looked! That was weird!
“Sorry,” she bit out, looking away as Shrub scrambled back. “That was… inappropriate.”
“It’s fine!” Shrub said quickly, obviously uncomfortable. “Um. I was. What were we talking about?” She was clearly flustered - her eyes darted around the room, occasionally landing on Lizzie, which caused her to flush brighter.
“You’re 116,” Lizzie said, reminding both of them. “How long do gnomes live?”
“A while. How long does your kind live?”
Lizzie stared at her. “You keep saying stuff like that. Do you… you do understand I’m a human, right?”
Shrub finally met her eyes, brow creasing. “What?”
Lizzie almost laughed. Almost. “Wait. What did you think I was?”
Shrub threw her hands up. “I don’t know! It’s not - No. You’re not human. You’re- you’re wrong.”
“Wrong,” Lizzie repeated slowly, “about being human. Don’t you think I would know better than you?”
“You’re not mortal,” Shrub said hesitantly.
“I think I am.”
“Lizzie,” Shrub said seriously, staring her down, “How old are you?”
Lizzie blanked. Absolutely, completely blanked. “I… don’t know.”
“Who are your parents?” Shrub pressed. “Do you have any siblings? Lizzie, what were you doing before you got to the ocean?”
I know this, Lizzie reassured herself. I know I know this. So what’s the answer? She swallowed hard and was forced to once again admit, “I don’t know.”
“And that,” Shrub said softly, “Is why you can’t be mortal. Mortals know those things, Lizzie.”
“Oh?” Lizzie scowled defensively. “Do you?”
“Of course,” Shrub said quickly.
“Then tell me, oh wise mortal. Who are your parents? What were you doing before you got here?”
Shrub looked away. “My parents are Fern and Rose Berry. Before I got here, I watched them die.”
Lizzie immediately felt awful. “Oh,” she said numbly. “I… I didn’t know.”
She shrugged. “No reason for you to.” Shrub glanced up at her. “Really? No comments about my name?”
“What…” Oh. Fern and Rose Berry. “Your name is Shrubbery?”
She sighed. “There it is. Yeah, my dad thought he was so clever.”
“Well, I think it’s hilarious.”
“Of course you do. You’re the queen of puns.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Lizzie was trying very hard to ignore the blind spot in her memories, but it was hard. She’d never noticed it before, but now that she had, it was the sole focus of her attention. “I… should probably go.”
Shrub didn’t protest. Lizzie wouldn’t admit that she wanted her to.
-_-_-_-_-_
An egg. A small, damaged tan egg.
That was all she could remember.
That was all she had, after two weeks of digging.
An egg.
Shrub had been right about one thing. She wasn’t human. The fins that had replaced her ears were proof of that, as were the scales creeping up her legs.
But it was fine.
It was all fine.
-_-_-_-_-_
The enderlotl stared at her from the other side of the glass as she flipped through the pages of its book again.
The Blue Axolotl. She didn’t know how, but it was the key.
It would give her the answers.
She hadn’t let herself go visit Shrub again, even though she wanted to. Shrub could help.
That probably wasn’t true, but sometimes it felt like Shrub was her only friend in the world.