by Dawn Napier
"Kill the Beast!" Hoarse, gravelly voices shouted. "Kill the Beast! Drink its blood!"
Megan screamed again, terrified. Dozens of trolls poured over the side and scrambled toward them, impossibly fast. She couldn't see how they could run so fast down a straight cliff without falling or rolling. "Kill the Beast Below! Kill the Beast!"
Megan blasted fire at the trolls, but they barely slowed. Their faces were blackened and their hair singed, but they seemed otherwise unhurt. As they drew close, she snapped her huge teeth and tried to crush them, but it was like chewing wet gravel.
More rocks came down, rolling over and crashing into her body, her legs, her face. One ankle was shattered, both wings were crushed, and half her teeth were cracked and broken. She had no idea where Jack was. She couldn’t see him, nor could she feel his weight on her neck.
You were right, Megan thought. We should have gone to the Dungeon. Why didn't I listen? Why did I let my stupid fear do this to us?
More and more trolls were on her, covering her body. They punched and bit her, slammed at her with rocks and sticks, bellowed and cursed at the Beast Below. Some of them were lying across her, thrusting and—oh gross! Megan rolled over, knocking the nasty fuckers off her body.
She rolled right off the edge. One last falling rock slammed between her eyes, and she lost consciousness just before she fell the rest of the way down the mountainside.
Brian rummaged violently through Megan's private drawer. What are you doing? she tried to ask him. That's my stuff. We don't get into each other's stuff. That's one of the Rules.
Brian did not answer, and Megan repeated the question. Then he said, "She's left no clues that I can find. I know there's no note." That was when she saw that he was on the phone. Talking to the police? Reporting her missing? What sort of reception did she have to look forward to, if she returned without Paige?
A cold, grey hand squeezed Megan's shoulder. "Well that just isn't going to happen," a woman's voice murmured. Megan screamed.
When she came to, she was human and naked. She coughed and spat out a mouthful of dirt. Her mouth was foul and gritty, and she coughed up as much saliva as she could to clear her mouth. Her nose was plugged, and she sneezed out more dirt. Megan spent several miserable minutes coughing, sneezing, and blowing her nose onto the ground. Her snot was black and bloody.
Once she felt she could breathe again, she looked around. She was no longer a dragon, obviously. The trolls had killed the Beast Below. She also had no clothes, and the air was chilly. Her face and body were black with dirt, but aside from a few scrapes and sore spots, she was pretty much okay. She looked up the side of the volcano; the ledge she'd stood on wasn’t visible in the dark. Considering how far she had fallen, she felt lucky to be alive.
All around her were thick, closely woven trees. They pressed against the side of the volcano and created a phalanx around Megan that made her feel both secure and intimidated. If the trolls came back, they would rustle leaves and sway branches and give Megan ample warning to flee. But the trees themselves did not seem friendly. They loomed over her like stern parents. Were they as disappointed in her as Jack?
And where was Jack? Megan had lost track of him on the ledge. Had he found a way to escape, or had they killed him?
Surely he wasn't dead. Megan wasn't sure that he could be killed. She would not think of him dying. They had been separated, that was all. Once she found her way off this terrible island, he would find her again, and he would lead her to Paige. And this time she would listen to his advice.
Could he be dead?
It didn't matter, because she refused to imagine it. This was her world. Other people might have come here and tampered with the scenery, but Megan had invented Far Faraway, and she made the rules. If she decided that something was true, then it was true. And Jack's broken, murdered body was not true. It hadn't happened, and it never would.
The trolls hacking his body to pieces and throwing them down the side of the cliff…
No!
Megan started walking. She didn't care where she was going. She needed to get away from these dark thoughts and find happy ones again. The sun needed to come up and banish these terrible shadows. She would go to the beach and watch the sun rise.
Her feet were like bricks of ice, and the trees brushed her with their wet leaves as she passed. Megan shivered and tried to rub the gooseflesh off of her dirty arms. She would bathe in the ocean when she found her way to it. She hated feeling dirty. Her hair was greasy and full of mud, and the feel of it on her face was loathsome. The wet ground squished beneath her feet as she walked. Thankfully, her feet were numb, and she could scarcely feel it.
She hoped that the trolls had given up on her. They'd killed the Beast Below; that should be good enough for them. If she encountered them now, she was fucked. In more ways than one.
Something rustled in the leaves behind her.
Megan stopped, and the rustle stopped, too. She took another step, then another. Barely a second later, there was another rustle. Something was following her.
It couldn't be the trolls. They had no reason to be stealthy; if they wanted her, all they had to do was walk up and grab her. Something else was behind her, watching her.
Megan turned around and scanned the dark trees, but she couldn't see a thing. There was no moon overhead, and the stars only showed in patches between the branches overhead.
There was another rustle. A single branch twitched.
Megan took off running. She wasn't panicked, not yet, but her heart was racing at a healthy gallop, and she had a bad feeling about that rustle. It felt like something invisible and deeply interested in her.
The forest went on and on, and Megan went on running. Leafy branches slapped her in the face and body as she ran, and her legs were numb from the shins down. She felt like she was running on stilts. What she wouldn't give for a hot bath, filled with bubbles and scented oil, in her own tub at home. Fantastic adventures were for suckers. She wanted to go home. Why was she even here?
Paige. She was here for Paige. She was here for her daughter, and she would get her back. If she kept her daughter firm in her mind, nothing else mattered. Let the whole universe do what it wanted to her. Nothing mattered but Paige. Megan breathed a little easier.
Finally the trees thinned, and she came out onto a wide, grassy beach. The dry grass poked her numb, cold feet. The sand was dry, and Megan hoped that it would warm up as the sun rose. She turned around to face the forest, to see what had been following her.
Nothing appeared. There was one last rustle in the dry grass, like the scampering of a mouse or vole. Then all was still and silent.
Megan breathed deeply and scolded herself for being paranoid. It had probably been the wind. Or squirrels. Chipmunks. Maybe even deer. There were lots of living things in the forest, and not everything there was some malignant monster out to kill her. She felt like an idiot.
The sky lightened a smidge as she stood and watched the silent trees. The stars faded. Soon the sun would be up, and any lurking trolls would have to go back underground. That was one less worry.
Megan turned back to the water. She didn't know if she faced the east or not, but somehow she knew that the sun would rise on the ocean horizon, no matter what. That was just how it was done here.
Something cold seized her ankle. She screamed, and the cold thing jerked her into the water. A huge, black tentacle lashed out of the shallow water and caught her around the waist. There was another horrible yank.
Megan tried to scream again, but it was smothered in her throat as she was dragged below the dark water.
Chapter Eleven
It was a testament to all that Megan had been through that, after the initial jolt of terror, her first thought was, Oh now what?
Down, down, down she fell as the rubbery tentacles dragged her through cold water that darkened from azure to midnight. Megan held her breath, but the pressure of the tentacle around her stomach slowly pressed the bubbles
out of her. Reflexively, she took a breath, and her lungs flooded with the cold, salty sea.
And it didn't hurt. She pushed water in and out of her lungs in an approximation of breathing, and it felt fine. Not like she was breathing air, but not like she was drowning, either. She sort of knew what drowning might feel like, and this wasn't it.
Megan remembered falling into the ocean as a child, when Debbie had jokingly pushed her off the pier while Dad was smoking a joint and fishing. She hadn't been wearing a life vest, and she'd sunk like a stone. She remembered the sharp agony of inhaling water into her nose and lungs, the clawing desperation of no air! Thankfully the water had been shallow, and Dad had jumped in and pulled her out quickly. She'd gouged one of his eyes and drawn blood across his left cheek before coming to her senses, but he'd borne her no grudge. It had taken three years for his scratched cornea to fully heal.
The fight between her parents that night had been spectacular. Megan and Debbie had huddled together in Megan's bed, as they often did on big fight nights, and listened to the carnage unfold.
"I can't believe you took her out on the pier without her life jacket!" her mother had shrieked.
"I handed it to her. I told her to put it on. She dropped it on the ground. How is it my fault?"
"You're the goddam fucking grown-up! How is it not your responsibility to make sure she's got a life vest on? God, what the hell is the matter with you? And I bet you were getting stoned, too. Again."
"Well, I think she's learned a lesson from this. Next time—" Then he stopped.
There was a small, deadly pause. Megan put her arms around her sister. They knew their parents, and they both knew exactly what was happening. Their father was sitting in an easy chair, leg swung over the arm, feigning nonchalance. Their mother was standing across the room, glaring at him with pale face and tightly pressed lips. Her next words would either be quiet and gentle, signifying an attempt to keep her temper, or a hurricane of rage.
This time she went with the hurricane. "Next time? Next time? What the fuck do you mean, next time? Do you seriously think that I will actually let you take them out fishing without me, ever again? Do you actually think I'll ever give you another chance to kill one of your daughters?"
"Look, I know you're upset. I get it. But she's okay. She was never in any danger that close to shore. And now she knows—"
"Jesus fuck, don't you dare turn this around on her! Get this through your skull! You are the adult! She is the child! You were the responsible one, and you fucked up! You! Not her!"
"So I'm a failure as a father. You've finally said it."
"Why the hell not? I've thought it often enough!"
Silence. A final, cold silence.
Megan and Debbie slept together in her bed that night.
The evening blue of the ocean was darkening to midnight, and Megan kept falling. Her lungs were full of water, but they didn't hurt at all. This wasn't anything like falling off the pier, not really. Except for the fear. The fear was the same.
Her parents had barely spoken to each other for the next month, except to share the occasional bit of information about the girls or the house. "The repair guy came; he said we're better off buying a new washing machine." "Debbie has ballet tonight, so don't forget to drop her off after work." Megan wondered if her parents would end up divorcing because she'd refused to wear her life jacket, and Debbie wondered if they would divorce because she'd pushed her sister into the water as a joke. It had been a cold, silent summer.
"What is this?"
It was dark, but Megan's eyes were beginning to adjust to the nighttime gloom. Hovering in front of her in the darkness was a humanoid face with enormous, catlike eyes.
Its eyes were amazing. They filled almost half the creature's face. When a trace of light hit them, they glinted like golden moons. Its shoulders and arms were slender, and its skin appeared green, though Megan couldn't quite tell in the uncertain light.
"What is this?" it repeated. "What is it doing here? What does it want?"
"What are you?" Megan asked.
She could speak! She couldn't breathe, but she didn't seem to need to. She could somehow speak without air. Was she using her voice, or perhaps her mind? What a curious place.
"It asks what I am. Why does it ask such stupid questions?" The creature slid through the water and slinked around Megan's bound body. She felt its cold scales slide across her bare skin and shivered.
A mer-creature. Humanoid up top, fish below. What sort of stories had Megan made up about mer-people? Nothing scary, she was sure.
The mer slipped webbed fingers through Megan's floating hair. "Tasty and warm," it whispered. "Should I eat it now or save it for later?"
Megan looked down at the tentacle , still wrapped around her legs and lower torso. She couldn't tell what it was attached to. The black, ropy thing seemed to just drift away into the blackness.
Her arms were free, but she kept them loose and unthreatening. Don't fight just yet, she thought. You won't win. There might still be a way to talk or trick your way out of this.
"Where am I?" Megan asked.
"It is here, where the world drowns," the mer hissed. Its voice was like water gushing from a tap.
"What is this place called?"
"How stupid not to know the Forgotten Sea!" The mer slapped Megan across her face, and she felt claws rake her cheek. "It might be too stupid to eat."
The Forgotten Sea. Now Megan remembered. Blood from the scratch drifted away into the dark water, and she remembered the fight with Debbie.
It had happened about three weeks after Megan's fall off the pier.
"This is all your fault!" Megan had hissed as soon as the lights went out. Downstairs, they could hear the sounds of their parents silently going about their evening. There was no conversation about their day, none of the usual relaxing chatter that signified a comfortable, healthy relationship. This had been going on for weeks. Megan would even have welcomed the sounds of noisy sex at this point.
"It is not my fault!" Debbie hissed back. "You weren't wearing your life jacket! Daddy said so!"
"Stop calling him Daddy! You sound like a baby. And it is so your fault. You pushed me in the fucking water!"
A gasp and then silence from the bottom bunk. Megan had uttered the Word of Words, and Debbie was shocked into silence. She was angrily glad.
I'd like to push you into the water, Megan had thought. Push you into the Forgotten Sea and forget about you. The sharks and mermaids would eat you up. If Mom divorces Dad after this, it will be all your fault and you'd deserve it.
Ugh. Megan shook her head. The deep scratches stung like hell, but not as much as the memory. She'd been a scared, angry child, and she'd overreacted to an incident that really wasn't anyone's fault. Or everyone's.
The family that fucks up together, she thought ruefully.
"What is this creature holding me?" she asked the mer. "Is it a friend or a pet?"
"So many questions the warm one asks. Is it stupid or merely ignorant, I wonder."
"Ignorant, so ignorant. I am like a child who has never seen the sea before. Will you teach me, wise one?"
"Now it flatters. It grows wiser. I think I like it." The mer swished past her, and she felt its tail slide over her bare hip. It gestured, and the dark water was suddenly alight with living things. Jellyfish, eels, even bioluminescent bacteria. The bottom of the sea had been transformed from night to day.
Now Megan could see the mer-creature clearly. It was female, she believed. The breasts were all but nonexistent, but its arms were slender and its face hairless. Her enormous eyes glowed with the reflected light of a thousand tiny life forms. Her hair was long and dark and floated around her head like a black aura.
"This is my pet, Posey," the mermaid crooned. She stroked the thick tentacle holding Megan's waist, and it squeezed her stomach and made her gasp.
Now that the ocean was lit up, Megan saw that the tentacles holding her disappeared into a collecti
on of rocks far below. Small, bright fish darted in and out of the formation, ignoring the tentacles. Perhaps it only went after large prey.
"Why did Posey bring me down here?" Megan asked. "There's plenty of food. You don't need to eat me, do you?"
"Posey is curious about it. Posey wants to understand it, and why the fabric of the sea has trembled ever since it appeared."
"What do you mean, trembled?"
"It asks so many questions, and I grow bored with it. Posey, take it below. I'll decide what to do with it tomorrow."
Posey yanked Megan downward so hard that she yelped. She'd thought she was already on the ocean bottom, but beneath the rock formation was a narrow groove that Posey pulled her through. Megan shouted, "Wait! Wait!" But the mermaid swam away. Leaving Megan alone with the monster.
The groove was barely wide enough for her hips, and Megan was squeezed and scratched all over by the time Posey pulled her through. But the crack expanded into a narrow cave below, and Megan could move her arms around and kick her legs a little. She was in blackness again, but it only lasted for a moment. The water around her brightened with a dull orange light, as though from a campfire. Then Megan felt warmth from below. She looked down to see a river of fire sliding past, far below her feet.
She screamed, but Posey didn’t react. It pulled her down (and how was that possible? Where was Posey's body? Did it have one?) and dropped her like a stone onto a ledge just the right size for Megan's body to lie on. This she did, pressing her back into the stone wall as hard as she could. Warmth billowed up from the crevice below, but Megan took no comfort from the sensation. She couldn't think past that river of fire. If she fell, she would be burned alive horribly. Megan curled up in the fetal position and wrapped her arms around her knees.
Traces of blood still drifted from the three parallel lines on her left cheek. They floated away like dark smoke.
Where was Jack Benimble? Why had he not found her? Maybe he really was dead. Maybe she had gotten her only friend killed when she'd refused to go to the Dungeon. If she was at the bottom of the Forgotten Sea, then the Dungeon was not far away. But she didn’t know exactly where it was. She had spent a lot of years pretending that the Dungeon did not exist, forcing herself to believe that it had never existed. Far Faraway was nothing but a good place, filled with magic and sweets. That was the lie she had told her sister and herself.