C. J. Milbrandt

The alabaster statue was no longer in his elevated niche. Phineas stood gazing up at the beautiful mermaid perched at the fountain’s pinnacle, one of her hands upraised in a graceful stretch. She looked as if she was trying to pluck a star from the sky. If his sister’s stories were true, it was probably so she could give it to her prince.

—HARROW by C. J. Milbrandt