No Sanctuary

by Z. J. Cannon

  Experimentally, I pushed the throttle forward. The boat leapt out into the waves with such force it almost left me behind on the dock. I almost wished it had. Spitting water, I eased up on the throttle, and spent the next few minutes trying to find a speed that would get me there faster than next week without making me spew the contents of my stomach into the ocean.

  I finally managed to find a happy medium—if the word happy could be applied to anything involving a boat, which I was beginning to doubt. I kept one eye on the compass, the other on the waves—I still wasn’t entirely convinced those monsters were only my imagination—and settled in for the long haul.

  Every so often, I shot a glance over my shoulder, just to reassure myself that I could still see land. It had the opposite effect, of course, because every time I looked, the docks were a little farther away. And then came the moment when I looked over my shoulder and the land wasn’t there anymore. All I could see in every direction was the dark landscape of the waves.

  I forced back a shiver, reminded myself that at least I wasn’t trapped on a sailing ship anymore with a crew of stinking, ill-tempered humans who had far too many potential opportunities to notice my ears, and kept going.

  That was when the moon winked out.

  At least that was how it looked at first. One second, the moonlight was glinting off the waves, making it look like the water was winking at me from a dozen directions at once. The next second, there was nothing. No light in the sky. No reflections on the waves. Just me, and the boat, and the near-absolute darkness. I couldn’t even see the horizon anymore.

  I had to stare at the sky for a good few seconds before I figured out what had happened. Storm clouds had rolled in to cover the moon. It was nothing more sinister than that. If I had been paying closer attention, if I hadn’t been so distracted by the bear growling and bucking underneath me, I would have noticed the storm coming in.

  Still, I couldn’t shake my certainty that the sky had been completely clear a few seconds ago.

  The only light now came from the boat’s controls, which glowed a faint green. According to the compass, I was still headed in the right direction. And that was all I needed. In theory. If I didn’t care about potentially slamming into another boat. Or the island itself, if I came upon it without realizing it. I had no idea how long I had been out here; for all I knew, I had passed the twenty-mile mark already.

  There weren’t going to be any other boats out here. No one else was stupid enough to take a boat out in the middle of the night, especially with a storm rolling in. Yes, there were cargo ships and the like to worry about, but the odds of running into one by chance weren’t high. And besides, they probably kept themselves lit up in case of just this kind of situation. Right?

  It occurred to me, then, just how little I knew about the ocean beyond the fact that it made a nice backdrop for a lazy summer day. I was seven hundred years old; I didn’t like discovering that there were still aspects of the world I was ignorant about. The realization left me more unsettled than I already was. I had no business being out here.

  What had I been thinking, coming out here at night, in a boat I didn’t know how to drive? I should have waited until daylight, when I would have been able to see where I was going, regardless of the weather. I should have done more research on the area first, tried to see if I could find out anything about this island. Never mind that Ashante had told me I wouldn’t find it on any map. What reason did I had to trust her?

  It wasn’t too late. I could still turn around. I could wait, and come back in a day or two when I was better prepared. Or a month. A year. What was the rush? I had waited this long to face Engstrom. I could wait a little longer.

  Turn around.

  Startled, I jerked the throttle back. The boat coasted to a stop.

  The voice in my mind hadn’t been my own.

  Oh, I could almost have mistaken it for my inner voice, if I hadn’t been paying attention. But it was too high to be mine, too light. And it felt slimy underneath, like what I imagined it would have felt like to run my hand along the underside of the dock.

  My sudden doubts, the temptation to turn around… had any of it been mine?

  I reached for the throttle again. My hand seemed to move in slow motion. Turn around, whispered the voice that wasn’t mine. Go back. This place is not for you.

  Choppy waves beat against the side of the boat. Frigid water slapped me across the face. I blinked it away, eyes stinging. The boat rocked from side to side, tilting almost sideways. I clung to the wheel as hard as I could to keep from falling over the side. The compass needle jerked back and forth.

  A blast of wordless fear tore through my mind. Another wave slammed into me and almost knocked me from my seat. I choked on the water that had made it past my lips. I took a gulping breath, and was surprised when air, and not saltwater, filled my lungs.

  I swept my drenched hair away from my face, and fixed my eyes on the barely-visible horizon, teeth clenched. I pushed the throttle forward as far as it would go. The angry bear growled to life under me. But this time, the vibrations didn’t set me on edge. I clung to the steering wheel as the spray flung droplets into my face like tiny pebbles. Right now, that angry bear was the only ally I had.

  This place is not for you, human, hissed that cold, murky voice. Return to your safe world.

  “I’m not human,” I said through gritted teeth. I didn’t slow down.

  The rain came all at once. It fell like a curtain, blinding me. I couldn’t see the horizon anymore. I couldn’t even see the compass. Water pooled in the bottom of the boat, covering my toes, then my ankles. Much more, and I would sink.

  “If I do,” I said aloud into the wind, “I’ll swim the rest of the way. All twenty-six miles, if I have to.”

  The wind answered with a piercing howl. Rain slammed down on my head and lashed my hands. I tightened my fingers on the wheel before I could lose my grip. I couldn’t see through the water pouring down my face.

  I risked letting go with one hand to wipe the water away, so I could get a look at the compass. I was facing almost due west now, if the needle could be trusted. I tugged at the wheel. The water fought me for every inch I turned the boat.

  Ahead of me, a dark shape surged up from the water, then disappeared beneath the waves. A second later, the boat lurched under me.

  “Don’t waste your energy,” I growled. “I’m not turning around.”

  The figure reared up again, closer this time. It was as big around as the boat, and moved in ways nothing with a skeletal system should have been able to. Its eyes were twin pits of fire. It opened its mouth and grinned at me with three rows of serrated teeth. Its hot, sulfurous breath blasted me in the face.

  It wasn’t real, I told myself. Engstrom’s defenses were putting this image into my head, just like they had given me the fear of drowning, and the thoughts of being out of my depth. There were no sea monsters off the coast of Massachusetts.

  But then, supposedly there weren’t any hidden islands off the coast, either. And I, of all people, knew there were things in this world most people never suspected.

  I had a handful of seconds to turn around. At most. If I didn’t, the boat would shoot directly into that creature’s mouth. Assuming the creature was real.

  But if I did turn around… what then? Did I really think I could outrun it? If I was going to be lunch either way, I might as well die knowing I hadn’t given Engstrom the satisfaction of letting him scare me away.

  I tried not to imagine what it would be like to resurrect inside the body of that beast, hundreds of feet under the waves. I took one last glance at the compass, closed my eyes, and kept going.

  Save yourself, the voice said. I caught a current of desperation underneath the words. I was scaring it now. Good.

  “You might want to stop worrying about me and start worrying about yourself,” I said, as I hurtled toward those yellowed teeth at top speed. “Because I’m coming for you.”

  Tu
rn around, the voice begged. Turn around turn around turn—

  The boat hit the creature’s glistening lower lip. The fiery eyes winked out. The creature disappeared. I was alone in the storm again.

  I warned you, the voice hissed.

  All right, maybe not completely alone.

  Chapter 26

  The rain knifed down at me, harder and colder than before. The waves tossed the boat into the air like a child’s ball. I screamed into the wind—whether in fear or defiance, I didn’t know.

  In answer, a gust of wind tore me from my seat. I kept my grip on the wheel for a second or two. Then the lashing rain froze my fingers, and another blast of wind tore my numb hands away.

  I couldn’t tell whether my head was above water. Not until I tried to breathe, and sucked in water instead of air. Reflexively, I tried to cough it out, but that only pulled more water into my lungs. I strained for the surface, but every time my hands broke through, the wind and the waves pushed me back down again.

  So this was it, then. This was how my search for Engstrom would end. Just a few moments ago, the panic at the thought of drowning again had come close to making me turn around. Now, though, I felt almost peaceful. I opened my eyes, stared up at the dark, water-blurred sky, and prepared to take a deep breath. At least I had done this before, and knew how it felt. It wasn’t so bad, really. Not after the first few seconds.

  Yes. Let go. It will be over soon.

  The presence had gotten into my head again. This time it had almost beaten me. I clamped my airway shut before I could take that final breath. I was so close. I almost had him. He wouldn’t defeat me now.

  With my numb fingers, I scrabbled for the clasp to JD’s watch. I still wasn’t used to this design; trying to remember how it opened cost me precious seconds. My lungs burned. I wouldn’t be able to hold out for much longer.

  My fingernail found the catch. The watch loosened. It slid off my wrist and disappeared into the depths.

  My magic burned the chill from my veins. One second, I was stiff and frozen, barely able to move; the next, I was alive with light and heat. But I was still sinking. I kicked my legs and flailed my arms, but my muscles were weak from lack of oxygen, and the surface kept receding into the distance.

  But under my feet, the water started moving. First, it was a faint ripple. Then a whirling cyclone. Bubbles rose up around me, whirling faster and faster. Even here, surrounded by water, my magic had found a way to call on the air.

  The bubbles spun around me in ever-quicker circles. They carried me along with them, until the dizziness and nausea almost eclipsed the burning in my lungs. I fought at first, instinctively, until I realized I was fighting the one thing that could save me. I closed my eyes and let the air spiral me upward.

  I launched out of the water and landed on my back, hard enough to expel a burst of water from my lungs. I only had a fraction of a second to be surprised that I had landed on solid ground. Then I was curled on my side, retching, coughing out the rest of the water I had inhaled.

  I wasn’t sure how much time passed before I could sit up. I still felt sick to my stomach, and my mouth was full of the taste of salt and seaweed. My lungs burned with every breath. But I could breathe, and that was enough for me.

  I blinked the last of the water out of my eyes, brushed my dripping hair back, and took a look around. The first thing I saw was the ocean beating its watery fists rhythmically against a beach of gray sand. A wave taller than me slammed down inches from my feet. I scrambled to my feet and hurried backward as the undertow pulled at my ankles. The water had gotten its chance at me. It wouldn’t get another.

  I turned around. The house rose up in front of me. If house was an adequate word for the chaotic pile of wood and glass and stone I found myself staring at. Maybe mansion would have been better. Or even castle. Or maybe just abomination.

  It was at least twice the size of my mansion back in Hawaii. The central edifice was a forbidding stone fortress, the kind where someone was liable to pour boiling oil on my head if I tried to get inside. But someone had grafted half of a Victorian mansion onto one side. The other side was all asymmetrical angles and sleek glass-and-chrome walls. Toward the back, I caught a glimpse of marble columns. Cupolas jutted out from the patchwork roof like tumors. A candy-colored spire with lacy white trim rose up from the center of the monstrosity, like a fairy princess’s tower.

  I spent so long goggling at the house, it took me longer than it should have to realize how strange the weather was. Or rather, the lack of weather. The air wasn’t hot the way it should have been at this time of year, or even muggy and tepidly warm the way it had been on the docks. But it wasn’t cold, either. It was entirely neutral. The empty lack of temperature that every climate-controlled building aspired to.

  The strangeness didn’t stop there. The storm clouds were gone, but there was no sun. The sky was a flat purple-gray, like late dusk or early dawn, but there was no glimmer of sun on the horizon. I couldn’t even tell which way was east.

  I shook myself out of my unsettled trance. The sooner I did what I had come here to do, the sooner I could leave this eerie place behind. I eyed the house, trying to figure out the best angle of approach. I had been joking about the boiling oil—mostly—but I still didn’t relish the thought of marching up to the front door and knocking. On the other hand, if I broke in, this place looked like it would swallow me and wall me up in a secret room to slowly digest before I managed to find Engstrom.

  I wasn’t entirely joking there, either. The place radiated wrongness, and not just because of the mishmash of styles. It reminded me of walking around in downtown Hawthorne, bathing in the constant low-level aura of magic spilling out from the Faerie portal. But I felt something else here, too—an undercurrent of intelligence. It reminded me of the cold voice that had ordered me to turn around. The more I looked at the house, the more I saw its many varied windows as dozens of eyes, all looking down on me with an unblinking stare.

  At the top of the fairy-tale tower, the curtains rustled. I jumped, and quickly tried to pretend I hadn’t. Not that there was anyone out here to pretend for. No one but the cold voice.

  On the other hand, maybe my best option was to stay out here and wait for my magic to raze the place to the ground. JD’s watch hadn’t washed up with me. It was probably at the bottom of the ocean by now. Nothing was keeping my magic from tearing this place apart brick by brick. So to speak. I was sure there were a few bricks in there somewhere.

  But my magic was coiled in a tight ball deep in my core. It seemed as unsettled by this place as I was.

  With every second I stood there, the aura of the place pressed in on me harder, until my chest ached with the pressure as if I were drowning all over again. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “I know you know I’m here,” I said aloud, even though I felt more than a little silly talking to no one. Or worse, to a house. “You tried to stop me. You failed. The question is, what are you going to do about it?”

  I didn’t really expect an answer. But almost as soon as the last word left my mouth, the front door—a stone slab reinforced by thick wooden beams—swung open with a creak that made my teeth ache. A man stepped out. He took a single step forward, then stayed where he was, arms crossed. He ran his gaze slowly over me, taking my measure.

  I didn’t know what I had expected. Another smarmy businessman like Ellison, maybe, complete with that same sideways smirk. But the man in front of me looked… small. That was the first thought that came to me. Small and tired.

  His skin hung loosely on his bones. He looked like he had left thin behind a long time ago, and was well on his way to emaciated. His cheeks were hollow, his eyes sunken. His clothes—a pair of gray sweatpants, a shapeless gray top—were too big for his frame. His dark blond hair, which hung almost to his waist, was lank and oily, like somewhere along the line he had forgotten about the concept of showers. The body odor that wafted toward me confirmed that impression.

  “Hello.” His
voice sounded as limp and weary as the rest of him. “I was told I had a visitor. And I have a good guess as to who it is.”

  “You’re Charles Engstrom, I take it?” If he knew who I was, why didn’t he sound more afraid? Ashante had known why I had come for her. Surely Engstrom had to know, too. And unlike Ashante’s defenses, Engstrom’s had all failed already.

  Or maybe not. If he could marshal that kind of power just to keep people away from his island, who knew what was waiting for me now that I was standing on his home turf? I was going to have to be careful. I cast a wary glance to either side. But I didn’t see anything more sinister than a few scraggly thornbushes that looked like they hadn’t seen a good rain in several years.

  The man answered with a nod. “I am. And you must be Kieran Thorne.”

  Still no attack—not from Engstrom, not from his island. My magic wasn’t doing anything yet, either. It was still curled up tightly, waiting for this situation to start making sense.

  “I’m sure you know why I’m here,” I said, buying time.

  He nodded again. There was a look in his sunken eyes I couldn’t read. “I know.”

  He didn’t move.

  “You aren’t even going to try to defend yourself?” This had to be some kind of trap.

  “Would there be any point?” Engstrom opened his hands to me. Do I look like I have any weapons? What do you expect me to do, rush at you with my bare hands?” He chuckled. His laugh sounded like a faded photograph looked. “You have all the power here. So go ahead, Kieran Thorne. Destroy the mastermind behind Arkanica, the way you’ve been waiting to do for so long. Strip the skin from my bones, like you did to my loyal employees. Show me what you can do.”

  “No weapons? Do you really think I’ll fall for that? I’ve already seen what you can do, remember? You almost drowned me on my way here. Or have you already used up everything you’ve got?”