“So you did think he’d come?” Lina felt a small flicker of hope. Only she hadn’t seen him out there. She picked at her brassiere through her dress. She didn’t need to wear one given how flat-chested she was, but it was a useful place to store things. Like Finley’s knife, which the witches had returned. She felt better knowing it was there, especially now.
“There’s that old story,” said Eva, ignoring the question, “about the serpents and the dancers who tamed them. It likes music. It likes you. Didn’t you see how playful it was with you in the sea cave?”
“It tried to eat me.”
“It does that.”
Lina finally managed to rip her hand free, stumbling back a step. More than a step, as the whole ship gave a sudden sickening lurch. The masts groaned, and a wave slapped the port side, cresting and spitting spray over the rail, soaking the deck, soaking Eva, who let out a shocked hissed breath. Lina would have laughed if the ship hadn’t rocked again so violently that she careened sideways, slamming into the foremast. Pain exploded in a white-hot flare as her temple connected with the wood. She dropped to her knees, clutching her head as she blinked back tears.
Another shudder racked the ship, followed by shrieks from a group of witches carousing at the stern.
“Eva?” someone called loudly, uneasily.
Lina grasped the mast, hauling herself upright. Heart hammering. Vision dark, or was that just the sky?
All the light had winked out of the world. A shadow masked the dying sun, and a wave of heat washed over her.
A drop of water struck the nape of her neck. She swallowed as she looked up.
An eye larger than her torso stared her down, fully black, covered in a viscous film that cast tiny rainbows over its pupil like oil on water. Slit nostrils flared. A sinuous body coiled out of the waves, thick as two trees, covered in crusted gray scales draped with necklaces of rotting seaweed and braided hair. Its flat triangular head whipped sideways. The seagulls that had been circling the ship vanished in a trail of feathers and crimson saliva.
A scream died in Lina’s throat.
She hadn’t seen it clearly in the sea cave. It was so, so—
Movement to her right. Eva edging closer to the rail, cooing softly, soothingly. One hand stretched out.
The serpent reared back, snapping at the empty air above its head, clearly agitated, strings of red spittle dripping from its mouth.
A hand landed on Lina’s shoulder, and she jumped, letting out a cry. Finley and Yara had stolen up behind her. The serpent swiveled, staring down at her. Had it recognized the sound of her voice?
“Eva, if you can’t control it,” Marcin repeated, louder this time.
“Remain calm,” Eva ordered tightly. “Lina, stay where you are.”
Lina couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to. Her feet were rooted to the deck with those monstrous oil-slick eyes locked on her. But she chanced a glance sideways as soft music reached her ears.
Eva was leaning back over the rail, singing softly. She had a surprisingly strong voice.
The serpent swayed, its dark gaze still fixed on Lina.
Lina held a breath, then released it as the monster swayed again, scales glistening. As if it were charmed by Eva’s singing, as if it were…trying to dance.
It likes music.
A measure of tension leeched out of the air. Fear turned briefly to wonder. Somewhere behind Lina, a witchling giggled nervously and clapped. The serpent’s jaw gaped and it swayed closer still, its body smacking against the hull, rocking the ship as its head whipped down toward Eva.
“Eva, get back!”
Heat seared Lina’s cheek as Marcin hurled a flaming bottled spell at the monster to ward it off. Lina staggered, heard Yara scream. Her nose filled with the acrid scent of burning hair.
The serpent recoiled. Hissed. And snapped its jaws straight for Lina.
Lina threw herself to the deck. Finley knocked Yara aside, shoving her out of harm’s way.
More flame flew past, and the foresail caught fire. The serpent veered, keening, oily blood gushing from seared flesh. Marcin was shouting at Eva to control it.
It smashed its head into the deck, against the hull.
The impact shook Lina’s bones and rattled her teeth. She rolled as the monster’s shadow loomed over her.
The ship pitched. A gray tail lashed around the foremast, snapping it in two with a thunderous crack.
A section of the rigging dropped free, whistling past Lina’s head. Finley cried out as a double block struck him in the center of his chest. Time slowed. Everything moved in slow motion as Lina fought her way to her hands and knees, to her feet, as he pitched backward, over the rail.
She caught his wrist.
Felt the weight and pull before it lessened. Cold fingers sliding through hers, torn from her grip. There was terror in her brother’s eyes as he slipped beneath the churning water and vanished.
16
Eva
Eva threw her arms around Lina’s waist, hauling her back, keeping her from plunging over the rail and following her brother overboard.
Lina thrashed and shrieked, flinging herself forward, hand still outstretched, fingers still grasping, clutching air. “Finley!”
“Stop! You can’t help him, it’s too late.”
Lina twisted, the crown of her head smacking the underside of Eva’s chin, the impact jarring through her skull in a brutal flash of red. Eva stumbled, hip knocking the ship’s boom, vision exploding into shards of fractured light.
Too late.
Just like she had been too late to save Natalia. She knew that yawning emptiness, that absolute refusal to accept that the person you loved was gone, had been ripped right out of your arms.
And nothing you do will ever bring them back.
Fury sang through Eva. She kept her grip vise-tight on Lina’s waist. Her sea serpent was vicious when it was angry. And Marcin had made it very angry, throwing fire, making it strike out at Lina. Eva could still taste the magic on the air.
Shouts shivered the salt breeze. The water was roiling, frothing, foaming. But no sign of boy or serpent. Her pet had disappeared below the surface.
Violent sobs racked Lina’s body, traveling through her to Eva. “No. No, no, no no no.”
Would they find parts of Lina’s brother washed up days later? A torso. An arm. A leg. Flesh pale and bloated. Blue. Tangled with seaweed. Nibbled by crabs.
A life ring whistled past Eva’s ear.
Finley Kirk broke through the surface with a gasp.
So did the serpent.
It shot up from the depths, water flinging from its scaly coils, from its wicked triangular head, fangs bared. A whip-thin tongue flicked out.
What a beautiful thing her monster was.
In Eva’s arms, Lina went deathly still. Eva’s grip slackened. The ship creaked and groaned, then seemed to hold its breath. The whole world held its breath as the boy flailed hopelessly for the life ring, as the serpent’s jaws gaped wide, wider, saliva dripping from serrated teeth.
The moment was shattered by a great splash and a crescendo of throat-scraping screams. An elderly man had leapt from a red-and-gold broom boat to help and was floundering in the water.
Why in hell had he jumped in if he couldn’t swim?
Lina tore free of Eva’s embrace, staggering forward, reaching down the front of her dress and drawing out a small knife. She was shouting. No, singing.
Loudly. And badly. Voice shaky and painfully off tune. Eva wanted to clap her hands over her ears. Had Lina Kirk gone mad? Did she have a death wish? Did she think her singing so terrible it could send even monsters away?
Did she think she could fight the serpent with her tiny knife?
Eva ripped a bracelet of black hair and red string from her wrist, ready to tie into knots, to trade
parts of herself for the power to reshape the world.
Lina waved her arms, raised the knife, and slashed a deep gash across her forearm.
Eva froze, string floating free of her fingers, glowing red like sunset, like the lit end of a cigarette just before it went out.
Blood oozed from the line of the cut Lina had carved, dripped onto the wooden deck in thick crimson splashes.
Something in Eva recoiled. The serpent swiveled toward Lina, slit nostrils flaring.
Lina rose onto one foot, staring straight ahead at the serpent, at the sea. Eye to eye with Eva’s monster. Her expression smoothing into something that was almost peaceful. She placed both fists on her waist and bowed deeply. Then her hand swept out, palm rotating to face the sky, pinching the air, sweeping up above her head. She sprang onto the ball of her foot, and her other leg lifted and flicked out.
She spun on the blood-streaked deck of the ravaged ship, dress flaring, one arm lifting and then the other. The movements flowed from her, building to a rhythm only she could hear: A heel drummed wood. A fist pressed to a heart. A sweeping flourish of sun-kissed arms. An elegant spin and an impossibly high kick.
Swift, audacious motions, full of defiance, full of daring. A fling meant to be danced upon a shield, beside a sword. The waves jumped and surged as if they were applauding, as if the sea itself longed to move with Lina, the turn of her body contagious. Magical.
The serpent swayed slightly, caught in the dance’s thrall. The silent melody chained it, held it captive, held it mesmerized.
As Eva was mesmerized.
Something stirred in the hollow inside her chest. She knew Lina was dancing for her brother. For that old man who had leapt into the sea. To buy them time, to aid them, save them. And she wanted suddenly, selfishly, for someone to dance that way for her. The scorching, soul-deep ache for it crept up her throat.
Drums beat across the waves, musicians on the floating stage spying what was happening, raising pipes and violins.
One slip. One misstep…
Eva tore her eyes away from Lina. Nodded curtly to Yara and Omar, to the witches struggling with the chaos that was the Carterhaugh’s sails, the tangled rigging and shattered foremast. She held a hand up as Marcin ran forward.
Eva vaulted from the deck to the surface of the water with impossible grace, landing like a cat upon the cresting waves. Her shoes were charmed as the Conservatoire dancers’ shoes were, spelled to cross the sea as if it were solid.
The tide licked at the points of her boots. Eager. Hungry. A thousand eyes weighed heavy on her, islanders watching with frantic hearts from broom boats and balconies. A thousand candles glimmering as true darkness fell and the scene turned blue-violet with shadow.
Eva’s steps were quick. Light as smoke. The air hummed with magic as she tied knots in another red string bracelet, calling up a wave that swept Lina’s brother and the elderly man into a red-and-gold broom boat. A group of women frantically hauled them in.
The dancing figure flashed in the corner of her eye, a whirl of pale blue and gold. The serpent’s head followed Lina, keening as it swayed, a hair-raising sound between a hiss and a wail.
Lina did not falter.
Neither did Eva as she approached it, taking advantage of its trance, reaching out a tentative palm. Her monster. Her beautiful, vicious pet. The reek of rotting flesh and fish was almost overpowering. She wanted to gag.
But a queen did not gag.
Eva stroked the undulating gray scales and sinuous muscle, smooth and slick and shockingly hot. Whispered quietly, soothingly. A tremor ran through the serpent as she brushed the seaweed snared around its long neck, the seared flesh from the fire Marcin had thrown.
Blood blackened her fingertips, stained dark crescents beneath bitten-down nails. Molten fury blazed through her.
Then with a sharp cry, Lina slipped.
Fell.
Her body slapped the deck, a deafening wet smack that seemed to echo, that made the planks of the ship shudder.
The serpent reared back.
Fangs flashed toward Eva. Jaws slammed closed inches from her chest. She felt the serpent’s rancid breath as she barreled to the left, sprawling onto her stomach, undignified, losing a shoe. Scrambling to get up, gasping, cursing. A knee and then her hand stabbed holes through the surface of the water, plunging into icy, empty nothingness. With only one charmed shoe, she lost control of the magic holding the sea solid beneath her.
She choked on a mouthful of spray and was blinded as salt burned her eyes. Jaws snapped at her heels, her legs, curved teeth catching, tearing through the hem of her trousers. She kicked back, clawed at the water. Crawled.
With a thousand eyes watching. A humiliation worse than the terror of death itself.
The serpent whipped its head back and lashed it down. Eva rolled sideways fast, but not fast enough. Fangs shredded fabric, skin, flesh.
An explosion of fire overhead. Heat and agony ripping through her right thigh. The serpent shrieked, enraged, and Eva wanted to shriek too at Marcin to stop throwing fire.
She twisted onto her back, looked up as that gaping maw streaked down.
Was this death, then? This moment, impossibly suspended? This mad second when she felt so impossibly, infinitely alive, aware of every shuddering breath, the thud-thud-thud of blood in her ears, the arctic chill of the water?
Was this how her sister had felt? Was this how she would go down in history, a failed queen eaten alive by her own monster?
The sea heaved. Black eyes looked into black.
Don’t you dare.
The waves trembled. The serpent swerved abruptly, unnerved. Zigzagging, neck uncoiling, striking instead for easier prey, for the golden-haired dancer struggling to stand on the deck.
Eva felt the air catch in her throat.
She slammed a fist down on the surface of the blood-thick water. Summoned waves that swelled in a great curving arc, forming a wall between ship and monster.
An inelegant kind of magic. Brutal. Enchantment worked with blood.
The serpent reeled, body stretching up out of the water.
The tide swept Eva to her feet. She ripped off her last remaining red string bracelet, using the magic within it to shape the sea to her will. She lashed a dark wave at the serpent as if it were a whip.
There was a crack as loud as thunder.
She felt the blow as if she’d struck herself. A pain that set every nerve end screaming.
The serpent gnashed its great fangs. Writhed. A line of fire was carved across its scales.
Eva lashed it again, driving it into the depths of the sunken harbor.
A pained keening split the air. Fathomless oil-slick eyes turned on her, bewildered. Wounded.
Piercing her more sharply than any weapon ever could.
Her monster writhed, but weakly now, sinking its bleeding, blackened coils into the water. Spearing her with one last stricken glance before it slipped into the deep.
17
Lina
There was so much blood.
Garish crimson staining her summer-blue dress, painting the ship’s deck raw with magic, dripping in little bread crumb trails down the stairs leading into the captain’s cabin. More blood than anybody could really stand to lose. Lina couldn’t tell if it was her own or Eva’s. “Is she…is she going to be okay?”
No one answered.
Lina was bundled down the stairs by broad-shouldered Omar. She twisted, catlike, straining in his arms, protesting. Her family’s boats were still out there. She’d seen her aunties hauling Finley into one, thank God. And Uncle, too. She still couldn’t wrap her head around him jumping into the sea to save Finley when he couldn’t swim himself. She needed to make sure they were both—
Grim faces crowded the stuffy, dimly lit space. Omar set Lina down firmly on an old buckled sea
chest. Somewhere in the cabin, a witchling was sobbing, a sound that made Lina clench her teeth. Her legs trembled. Her heart hammered with panic, with indecision.
Blood soaked sluggishly through the scarf she’d wrapped around the gash in her forearm, leaking down her wrist, crusting between her fingers and under her nails. Omar touched her arm, and Lina flinched.
Her gaze skittered back and forth, back and forth across the cabin, from Eva to Omar’s concerned face to the stairs leading up to the deck to Eva. The queen was propped up on the captain’s bed on the opposite side of the cabin, supported by an anxious Yara and ashen Marcin.
Eva was barely visible through the curtain of witches busy with bandages. A part of Lina knew she shouldn’t be so worried, shouldn’t care if Eva was hurt.
But the other girl was such a deathly gray. Her hair straggled out of its tight crown of braids and hung about her face, a sheen of sweat glistening on her skin.
This was not—this was not how tonight was supposed to go.
Lina bit her lip hard as Omar started to peel the scarf away from her throbbing forearm. She hadn’t given it a thought, had just drawn the knife down, splitting the skin like a fish’s belly.
Her whole body was an ache. A bruise. But she couldn’t just… She needed to…she needed to move. To help somehow. To run away. She couldn’t sit here all useless, helpless.
A hand on the wall, Lina rose to standing, not even sure what she was planning. Omar objected loudly, his voice distorted, the words sounding like they were coming from underwater. But she had to…she had to—
The world spun violently, viciously. Her stomach heaved.
Someone called for a bucket.
Lina sank back down quickly, retching, body shaking ever more violently. From belated fear, from shock, maybe, from the delayed terror of dancing for a monster.
How strangely good it had felt, though. To leap. To spin. To sway. To dance as death stared her down. How alive she had felt in that moment. She’d held a monster captive with the turn of her body, the stamp of her heel on deck. A different kind of magic than the one Eva wielded, maybe, but magic all the same.
The Dark Tide Page 11