by Jess Keating
“I’m back,” I croaked. My voice was scratchy and raw. “I don’t exactly know how this thing works yet, but picturing myself as human again seemed to activate the ring’s capabilities.”
My legs buckled as I tried to climb out of the crow’s nest, so I leaned on Leo for a moment.
“Take it off.” Leo pointed to my finger. Now that I was myself again, the ring sparkled in the setting sun. “We don’t want any other accidental ferret transformations.”
I couldn’t agree more. Yanking the ring from my finger, I resisted the urge to chuck the thing into the ocean, never to be seen again.
“Come on.” He held out his hand to help me from our perch. “Take your time, you’ve been through a lot.”
I shook my head angrily. “We don’t have time,” I said. “Mary needs us. We need a plan.”
“Nikki!” Charlie rushed over to me when I set foot on the deck. “You’re back! I thought we were up the creek on that one! Thank God Leo got you out of there in time.” She and Mo wrapped me in a hug while Bert patted my shoulder awkwardly.
“I’m fine,” I mumbled. Opening my mouth broke the dam inside of me. Guilt started to pour out. “I’m so sorry, everyone,” I said. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have touched the ring. I should have waited to have my shower like everyone else, and Mary would still be safe.”
A shadow crossed over Grace’s face, and she curled her lip in disgust. “Hold up.” She looked beyond us. “It ain’t over!”
She rushed over to the rail of the ship. I followed her, urging my feet to do as they were told. They were still a little wobbly, probably because I had just gotten used to having four feet, rather than two.
Dusk had painted the sky with gorgeous purples, oranges, and reds, but there was nothing beautiful about the sight below: Another boat was approaching. A small speedboat, with a lone figure parked right in the middle. Judging by the wide shoulders and loose, shaggy hair, it was a man.
“Positions, everyone,” Grace instructed.
“We can’t just let him come aboard!” Bert said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Oh, he’s coming aboard, all right,” Grace responded. “But this time, we’re not getting ambushed.”
As the man maneuvered closer, his voice rang out. “I’m unarmed!”
“Oh, well, that changes everything.” Bert perched his hands on his hips in exasperation. “Let’s invite him up for some tea, then! Charlie, go put your kettle on! Someone round up some biscuits!”
Grace shushed him, but I had to agree with Bert on this one. The odds that this man was bringing us good news were slim.
“I’m coming up!” he yelled again. “Please, don’t shoot.”
Bert made a face. “Shoot?” he mouthed. “Who the heck is this guy?”
“We’ve got a sniper in the crow’s nest if you feel like trying anything!” Charlie quipped. It was a convincing enough lie that I looked above us without thinking.
Two hands gripped the railing. The man climbed up a small ladder that he had brought in his own dinghy. His white linen shirt was rumpled and stained, and his arms were deeply tanned.
“Who are you?” Grace barked.
He smiled weakly at us. His hair was a messy chestnut brown mop, and his dark eyes crinkled at the corners, giving him an air of exhaustion. He extended his hands in front of him, like he was offering an apology.
“Thank you for letting me board.” His voice was scratchy. Who knows how long he’d been in the water to reach us. Deep rivers of dirt and sweat lined his face. But there was also something unsettling about him. Something I couldn’t quite place. Was it the relaxed way his shoulders drooped, when he should have been nervous? Or the hint of a satisfied smile that barely graced his lips? He seemed eager. But at the same time, incredibly tired and unsure.
I edged farther away from him.
“I’m here to help,” he continued. “I know you broke into the cave vault. I know your friend was kidnapped a few moments ago. And I know that is no normal ring you’ve got.” He raised a long, shaky fingertip and pointed it directly at me.
I wish I could say we had some clever response to that, but we didn’t. Instead, we stood there, wavering slightly as the ship bobbed side to side, while this random dude threw down a bunch of truth at our feet.
Grace, always on target, was first to speak. “And how do you know that, huh?” She threw him a bottle of water. An offering.
He caught the bottle in one hand and cranked off the lid, draining it with one long gulp. A stream of water dripped from his chin, and in that moment, with the back of his hand casually wiping his mouth, the truth crashed into me like a rogue wave.
I knew exactly why I found him so troubling …
“Answer me.” There was more than a note of warning in Grace’s words. “How do you know about us?”
The bottle dropped to the deck as the man inspected each of us. By the time he got to me, that tiny smile began to appear again. Quirked at the edges and slightly crooked.
Familiar.
He shrugged and scratched the back of his head. “Because I designed the vault. And that ring? The silver ring that just turned Nikki into a ferret? I invented that, too.”
Despite the seven years that had passed, I still recognized him. He had changed, of course. His face was weathered. His eyes a gray that seemed darker than I remembered. And his tattered shirt made him look more like a lost tourist than a scientist.
But it was definitely him.
“Dad?” I said. I leaned against a deck chair for support. Anything to keep me upright while my knees were quaking with confusion. The murmurs of the team grew around us, but I was too busy with my own storming thoughts to worry about what they thought.
“Nikki,” he said. His shoulders sagged with relief. He smiled at me, but he didn’t open his arms for a hug. It’s a good thing, too, because I might have taken the opportunity to push him right into the ocean. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
I couldn’t control myself; I was already shaking my head in anger. My throat trembled as I struggled to hold back tears. “Not interested.”
“Nikki.” Grace glanced at the others. Uncertain, maybe for the first time, of what to do. “Why don’t we—”
“No!” I shouted, interrupting her. My hearing started to get fuzzy. All of my blood was rushing to my head, and I was close to hyperventilating. “No! He does not get to just show up like this!” I turned around to face him. “No! Get back into your stupid boat and row away or whatever, but never, ever come back!”
Dad’s mouth clamped shut. “I understand.” He continued to watch me, ignoring the others. “You’re upset. I know I deserve every ounce of your anger, but right now you all must listen to me.”
I’d already started to march away, but it turned into more of a pace when I realized there was no way to truly disappear off this dumb ship. I considered jumping into the ocean myself, just to get away from him. Leo sidestepped out of my way, probably afraid I’d knock him over the railing.
“We all need to get off the ship.” Dad gestured to the horizon and a set of moving lights on the main island. Flashlights? A car?
“Do you see those lights? A group of scientists owns this ship. I spoke with them earlier, and they’re on their way back here as we speak. Do you want them to discover you’ve hijacked their ship for the day for a joyride up the coastline? I don’t think they’ll be pleased to see all the damage.” He flicked his gaze to the broken railing on the stairs that descended into the belly of the ship. “They’ll call the Coast Guard, and you’ll be too busy answering questions to help your kidnapped friend. But I’m offering my services—I know where they took her.”
“Give us a minute.” Grace opened her arms and waved us all in close. She kept her voice barely above a whisper. “He’s right. Nikki, I know this is hard for you. But we do need to get off this ship right now. If he knows about the ring, he’s probably telling the truth about tracking whoever took Mary. He could help
us find her …”
“He’s a criminal.” I couldn’t believe Grace was even considering listening to him. “He’s done nothing to show us we can trust him.”
Bert poked his head out of our circle to look at my dad again. “Well, he did warn us about the scientists returning … I think maybe he wants to help.”
I scoffed. “He’s worried about himself. Can’t we call Martha? She’ll have a better idea.”
Grace’s mouth set in a tight line. “I tried. I can’t get ahold of her. Either we’re out of range, or the explosion from the ambush messed with our radio signal. I can send her an email once we get some Wi-Fi, but we can’t exactly stick around to wait for her right now.”
My stomach sank.
“Is Mary worth the risk?” Grace asked suddenly, facing me with fierce eyes.
Her question stopped me short. “You know I’d do anything for Mary,” I said. “I just don’t think my dad will help.”
Grace bit her lip. “And I think you’re not seeing clearly because of how upset you are with him.” She held up her hand when she saw me begin to protest. “And you’re entitled to be angry! But if we let your past with him interfere with what’s in front of us right now, we might regret it. Think of how distracted you’ve been lately! Nobody’s blaming you, but we need to be logical here, Nik. Mary’s in trouble, and this guy—your father—knows where she is.”
Shame spread over me like fire. They thought my judgment was clouded by anger? Doubt clung to my chest, making it hard to breathe all of a sudden. Were they right?
No.
There was no way that Dad was trustworthy.
But he did have information. And if spending time with him meant we had even a slim chance to get her back, I knew what we had to do.
“Okay,” I said. “For Mary, then.”
“So we’re agreed?” Grace put her hands on her hips. “We leave right now. We can make shelter on the island. If we wait until morning, we could—”
“Uh, if I may?” Dad’s voice made us all jump. He’d edged his way between Mo and Leo, leaning in and whispering like he was part of our circle. “You don’t want to be spending the night in the dark without food or water. I’ve got a laboratory in Ecuador, near the Cotopaxi volcano. And a plane to get us there. You’ll be safe, and we can sort out what to do next. You do want to get your friend back, right?”
I gawked at him, disgusted. Secret laboratories? Volcanoes? How could anyone even consider trusting him? He was basically the villain from every spy movie I’d ever seen.
Dad stepped out of the way to let us talk again, but I could already tell from Grace’s expression that it had been decided. I was outvoted on this.
Charlie patted my arm. “We need him to get us over to the mainland so we can figure out how to save Mary. We’ll all be watching him constantly. Right, guys?”
Leo nodded brusquely. “We got your back, Nik.”
“Then it’s done,” Grace said, snapping up to her full height. We faced my dad, who had busied himself staring out at the water, pretending he wasn’t listening.
But of course he was.
“This plane of yours,” Grace said, “where is it? Does it have enough room? And do you have a pilot? Will we be meeting any other new faces today?” She barely kept the sarcasm out of her voice.
Dad smiled, and the familiar shape of his crooked left incisor cemented itself into my mind, mingling with memories I didn’t realize I still had. A million smiles, all for me as a kid.
“It’s a few hundred yards inland,” Dad answered. “And yes, there’s room for us all.”
“And where’s the pilot?” Grace asked.
Dad winked at me. “You’re looking at him.”
You know how you always want to yell at the people in horror movies? The ones who traipse upstairs looking for the killer when they should be running as fast as they can from the house and not looking back?
That is how I felt stepping into the stainless steel elevator that would take us down into the depths of Dad’s secret laboratory, with him by our side.
“Dude,” Bert said. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, inspecting the ceiling of the elevator. “I thought you said your lab was near the Cotopaxi volcano … not in it.” He held the collar of his shirt open to cool off. “Are you sure this thing isn’t active right now?” He touched the side of the elevator walls with the back of his hand, testing the temperature.
Dad didn’t answer at first. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see the elevator was hidden among the rocks of the Cotopaxi volcano, shrouded with foliage. There was no building or parking lot. Instead, his lab was built directly into the rocks, hidden within the jungle. Did he actually build this himself? Or had he discovered it and taken over the space, like we had with the ship?
“I like my privacy,” he replied.
Or maybe, I thought smugly, because he was wanted by police, he had to fly under the radar.
“Here we are,” Dad said. The elevator door yawned open, revealing his laboratory. We stepped out cautiously, letting our vision adjust to the dim lights.
“It’s not much, but it’s home.” Dad spread his arms out to welcome us, with a slight grimace on his face. “At least, home on this continent.”
I clenched my jaw at his comment, which had done nothing but remind me of the home—our home—that he’d left behind.
A row of lab benches flanked each side of the space, and gray shelves lined every wall. Flickering lights suspended on electrical cords hung above our heads, peppering the ceiling like huge fireflies. The place wasn’t exactly tidy, but there seemed to be an order to everything. But there was another quality to the space, as well: It was temporary. Bandages of masking tape bound many of the table legs, and the walls had been haphazardly painted in various shades of white and gray, as though the owner of the space couldn’t decide what color he really wanted. Or maybe he didn’t care.
This wasn’t a place to live.
It was a place to hide.
I let my glance drift to the messiest desk, which was strewn with notepads and diagrams and the hurried scribbles of an inventor at work. A single framed photograph rested on the left, next to a pile of nubby pencils and crumpled scraps.
My mother’s face beamed back at me. And four- or five-year-old me, tucked under the crook of her arm. A burst of renewed annoyance surged through me. What right did he have to keep our picture out like that? Like we were some long-lost happy family?
No one was smiling now.
We dropped our belongings in one corner of the room while Leo and Bert organized some chairs for us all in the middle of the space. A sharp pang of panic shot through me when I noted that they’d set out a chair for Mary without thinking. She was always so quiet and even-tempered, never one to get overly excited or in your face. And yet, the group felt oddly lifeless without her—like we were missing our heart.
“Here.” Dad handed me two small metal bowls, nestled together.
I stepped back from his offering. “What’s this?”
He nodded to Pickles, who was protectively curled around my neck and hadn’t moved since the flight here. “For your ferret. She must be getting hungry and thirsty by now,” he said. “I’ve got some crackers on that top shelf, and there’s some cheese in the fridge. Feel free to make a plate for yourselves, too.”
Crackers and cheese. Another memory. Dad always used to cut up cheese for me in tiny cubes at lunchtime, so I could stack them on my crackers before eating them. We called it cheese castle. The memories felt jagged in my mind, and being around him was starting to feel like navigating a floor covered in broken glass. Exactly how many memories did I have hidden away? And here I thought I barely remembered him. It turns out I did—he was just buried under years of hatred. How many times had he made me lunch before he left us?
“Hey, Tesla!” Someone snapped their fingers near my ear. “Earth to Nikki …”
I blinked back to reality to face Bert, whose eyebrow w
as quirked with concern. “Watch your toes.” He gestured to the chair he was shuffling by my feet.
“Huh? S-s-sorry,” I stammered. I shook my head to shoo away the memories. If I wanted to get Mary back, I’d need to stay sharp, not buried in the past.
I cautiously took the bowls from Dad and turned them over in my hand. Pickles was starving, but I didn’t want him to think two bowls were going to fix the chasm between us.
“Thanks for letting us stay here, Mr.… Mr.…” Bert struggled for the name.
Tesla, of course, was my mother’s last name, which we’d adopted after Dad left us. My father’s real name was—
“Faraday,” Dad responded. “You can call me Mike.”
“Mike,” Leo repeated. He stretched out his hand to shake Dad’s. “I’m Leo da Vinci.”
I scoffed. Leo the traitor.
It was hard enough looking him in the eye, but seeing all my friends be civil and polite to him? Falling for his tricks? That was maddening.
“Nice to meet you, Leo,” Dad said. “I’m sorry that we have to meet under these circumstances. Please, let’s all take a seat. We’ve got a lot to cover.”
“If you don’t mind, Mike,” Grace said. “We need to get working on a plan to retrieve Mary. We appreciate you lending us the space, but every passing minute means there’s less of a chance we’ll get her back.” Grace took her seat and waited for everyone to do the same.
“Agreed.” Dad scratched the scruff on his chin and gave me an apologetic look. “But there’s something you need to know.”
“And what’s that?” Grace could barely hide her impatience. Her ankle bounced at top speed on her knee.
Dad’s face was grim. He reached into his pocket and removed a small black remote. Aiming it at a blank screen to his left, he clicked once, and the monitor flickered to life.
A spotty image reflected back at us, knitting together first in snowy gray shimmers, then finally settling into clarity. A girl sitting in a chair in an empty white room. Her hair was messy as though she hadn’t had a chance to tidy it after a long trip. Her hands were folded gently in her lap.