It was Mr. O’Brien. Sean’s dad.
Great, I was being arrested by my next-door neighbor and the father of my best friend. Just when I thought it couldn’t get much worse, another familiar voice rumbled out of the chaos.
Dad.
Big holy crap, my dad was here too.
•
Apparently being drunk and getting arrested makes me write poetry. Really bad poetry. Somehow I got hold of a sharpie and wrote a slew of almost illegible words on my arm. I didn’t see them until I woke up the next morning, one arm shielding my eyes from the sunlight, my mouth half-open and drooling. I stumbled to the bathroom, threw up, then attempted to wash my face. That was when I looked in the mirror and saw the marks on my arm.
I groaned. Then threw up again.
My vision blurred, I tried to read what I had written. My drunken self leaving a coded message behind for my sober self.
Walk in a straight line.
Cry if you have to—
Don’t tell anyone.
Pray that those two friends
you had on Friday
still like you on Monday.
I sighed, then ambled down the hallway and went back to bed.
Part Two
Can ye fathom the ocean, dark and deep,
where the mighty waves and the grandeur sweep?
—Fanny Crosby
Chapter 23
Kira:
Seagulls flew overhead and the water rushed toward me, a crescendo of curling wave and foam. It stretched thin, surging forward until it swirled around my feet in eddies of blue and gray. The ocean was teasing me. Trying to get me to come out and play. It would sweep away from me, impatient, then gather courage to swell and crash forward again.
The seals were gone and the water felt cold and the sun burned my eyes.
I pulled on a pair of sunglasses, something I almost never wore, wondering why my eyes were so sensitive to the light today. Then I sat in the sand, my wetsuit still draped over one arm, not sure whether I wanted to go swimming today or not.
I couldn’t help going over what had happened last night, trying to piece it all together. But no matter how hard I tried it didn’t make sense. From the moment I took that fruit drink—the one that had been spiked—it all seemed like one long, brightly colored hallucination. Of course, there was one other conclusion. I started digging small tunnels in the sand with my fingers, trenches to trap the seawater when it came tumbling over me.
I could be going mad.
My mind could be filled with discordant images, the jagged bits of my brain trying desperately to communicate with me, to tell me that something was wrong, and all of this could be part of the puzzle.
In other words, I could be just like my mother.
Inside my head, a psychotic breakdown could be brewing and my strange memories of last night, even my uncharacteristic behavior the past few days, could all be signposts on the road to the madhouse.
The water rushed over my feet, my shins, my thighs. It curled and flipped, spraying my face, tickling me with a layer of salt.
Or—
I imagined a thunderstorm of noise and lightning flashes. Don’t go that way, my wounded mind seemed to be saying. Don’t think it, this is the first step to the madness that waits—
Or, everything that happened last night could be true. I could really be some sort of monster, some sea creature with green skin and gills. And if I was a sea creature, then all those teenagers who just came to Crescent Moon Bay must be sea creatures too—
This was the tenth time this morning that I’d tried to figure it all out and every time I ended up at the same place.
Nowhere.
None of it made sense. Not one bit of it.
I stood up and brushed off the sand, headed back up the cliff. I was grounded and stranded at home, basically an indentured servant. I’d already finished my homework, cleaned the house, organized all the kitchen cupboards and straightened the tools in the garage. I wasn’t getting paid for any of this, either.
I nodded at Dad as I ambled through the ankle-deep grass in the backyard. He ran the back of his hand over his forehead, brushing away the sweat as he pruned the garden. Sleeves rolled up, his arms bronzed by the sun, he stopped working long enough to give me a thin smile that seemed to say, I’m concerned about you.
I hiked up the porch steps, kicked the sand off my feet, then stepped into the living room. I could tell Gram was pretending to be domestic—she was cooking a roast. Burning it, most likely. Before long she’d give up and ask me to take over. Sometimes I wondered how Dad survived as a kid. He must have eaten a lot of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
Anyway, right now both of them were busy, so I had a needle-thin window of opportunity here.
Granted, I would much rather have called Sean and talked to him about what had happened last night. I’m sure he thought I was nuts, flirting with him in my driveway and then leaving the party with another guy. And I wished I could call Brianna and ask her where she and Caleb had been taking me when the cops showed up. But the police never gave us a chance to talk to each other. You’d have thought that someone had been murdered or something.
Although that could have happened.
Riley and her crew could have drowned me. If I hadn’t managed to get away. And yeah, if I hadn’t turned into some sort of green slimy Creature from Crescent Moon Bay.
But I couldn’t call anybody right now. Couldn’t e-mail them either.
Because Dad had used his mad computer skills to lock me out of the Internet and Gram had the home phone in her pocket. But I still had resources. And I needed some answers—immediately. I needed to figure out whether I’d been hallucinating last night or whether I was losing my mind or whether those girls had used some creepy spell to turn me into a sea monster. And if they had used a spell, I needed to find a way to make sure that it never happened again.
I glanced out the window, saw Dad using an ax to trim the branches on a nearby hawthorn tree; then I snuck to the edge of the living room, peeked in the kitchen and saw Gram bent over a cookbook, tumbler half-full of Jameson. She took a sip, then poured the rest of the glass over the roast. This was my chance.
I crept across the living room, down the hallway and opened the door to Gram’s room.
I never went in there unless she invited me. I always wondered what she did in there, imagined her casting spells and getting the cat to tell her all my secrets. Took me years to trust that cat. Now he was my best pal and Gram was the one I wondered about.
Meanwhile, right now her curtains were drawn, light filtered through with hesitancy, as if sunlight wasn’t welcome. Goose bumps danced over my arms and legs as I crossed the threshold. I held my breath, searching the room with a swift glance. I knew she had a small library somewhere. I’d seen her reading strange books late at night, cup of hot tea in one hand, the other hand, gnarled and curved, tracing the words, her mouth moving as she read.
Finally I spotted a small bookcase next to her closet. The floor betrayed me, though, creaking as I crossed the room on tiptoes. I knelt down, tried to read the titles, some covered with dust, some so worn the spines were cracked and the letters were almost gone. I knew the books I wanted, or at least I thought I did, but it took awhile to find them. Then finally I had them both tucked under my arm. I replaced them with two of my own books so her shelf wouldn’t look too empty.
A ray of sunlight poked through the drapes just then, sliced the floor and pointed to another book, one that I wouldn’t have thought of. I took that one too, hoping Gram wouldn’t notice since it would leave an open space.
Then I crept away, out of her room and down the hall, into my own room. Quick, I slid all three books under my bed. Just in time too, because I heard her in the living room. A heavy sigh and then she called my name, frustration in her voice.
“Kira.”
Couldn’t look like I had been expecting this, so I feigned irritation. “What?” I called back. I opened my
door and saw my grandmother, tumbler half-full of whiskey again. Her hair hung down her back in a long braid. For a minute, in the dimly lit room, I saw her as a young girl, prominent cheekbones, delicate nose. She looked like she could be my age. Then the sunlight poured in from my room and she aged in an instant. Her shoulders sagged and fine lines framed her eyes, her fingers curled and her hair turned grey.
But she was still beautiful.
Her eyes caught mine and for a moment I could see how alike we were. I could imagine her raiding her own grandmother’s room, wanting to know the secrets of the universe. I could almost imagine her fighting off a band of sea creatures back in Kenmare Bay, although I’m sure she would have fared much better than I had.
She would have won.
Her eyes settled on my throat and my fingers followed her gaze. For a moment, fear laced through my chest and I wondered if I had gills, if I was changing back again. But that wasn’t what she was looking at.
“You’re not wearing your cross, young lady.” She frowned.
“It burned my skin. I—I got a rash and took it off,” I stammered.
She shook her head. “Give it to me. I can put something on it to fix that.” She held out her hand.
Sweat beaded on my forehead. “I think—I must have left it over at Brianna’s. It was in my purse and I—I forgot it when—”
Gram cursed, then brushed past me, headed down the hallway to her room. I could hear her in there, opening drawers and slamming them, cursing the whole time in Gaelic. Sometimes I wished I knew what she was saying, but this wasn’t one of those times. Finally she came back, dangled another necklace between bony fingers. It looked almost exactly like the one she had given me for my birthday.
“Put this on. Now,” she commanded.
I did.
“And don’t take it off, understand?”
I nodded. Mute. She’d stolen all of my words.
“Even when you go swimming. And let me know if it burns, I can put something on it. That can be fixed, but there’s other things that can’t be fixed. You listening to me, child?” She shook her finger at me. “That cross can protect you from things too awful to even talk about. I don’t want to hear no whining about a rash either. I’ll give you a rash on your backside if I catch you taking that off again.”
Then she walked back to her room, mumbling to herself. Something about how ungrateful young people were nowadays and what it was like back home. When she reached the door, she paused, glanced back at me.
Her face had softened and I could see the love in her eyes.
“My own mother gave me that cross. Don’t you lose it now.”
“I won’t, Gram.” The power of speech had returned, miraculously. “I promise.”
“Now, be a lamb and go finish dinner. I’m taking a nap.”
“Yes, Gram,” I said, but she’d already closed her door.
•
Dinner was over, dishes were put away and my servitude was finished for the evening. The scent of hawthorn stole into the house, stronger than usual. Dad had made boughs for all the windows from the branches he’d trimmed today. Sometimes it felt festive when he did that, almost like Christmas in the middle of summer, but ever since last night, there’d been an ominous presence in our house. Almost as if both Gram and Dad knew what had really happened to me.
Apparently being attacked by sea creatures was the elephant in the middle of the room here.
“I picked up some movies today,” Dad said as I got myself a can of Coke. He stood in the living room doorway, his head almost touching the lintel. Sometimes our house seemed too small for him. I was sure that Mom had picked it out, although I could never understand why she wanted to live so close to the ocean when she couldn’t swim. Maybe she had given in to her own destiny. Hopefully I wouldn’t give up that easily.
“Let me guess,” I said. “Die Hard and Lethal Weapon.”
He grinned. “No, I bought you that Twilight series you’ve been wanting.”
“Really?” So I got rewarded for getting arrested?
I wondered if he could read the expression in my eyes.
“I’m just glad—” He paused for a long moment. “—that nothing happened to you last night. Drinking and swimming don’t mix.”
“I know.” I hadn’t been able to hide the fact that I’d been swimming, since both my hair and clothes had been wet. And I’d barely been able to walk straight, so everybody—my classmates, the cops and my family—figured out that I was either drunk or high. I should have just said no when Riley had asked me to go down to the beach. But there had been something almost magical about the ocean last night, like it was calling me. The waves and the moonlight, even the company of the other girls had all felt right. At first. Until they attacked me.
Is that what destiny was like? Did it seduce you to do things you normally wouldn’t?
“If anything like that ever happens again,” Dad said, “you know, if anyone ever spikes your drink or if any guy gets pushy—”
“No guys got pushy last night.”
“Call me, okay?”
“That would be a lot easier if I had a cell phone,” I snipped. I hadn’t meant to get bratty all of a sudden. It just slipped out and I regretted it almost immediately. I’d been after him for a phone since I was twelve, so I expected him to roll his eyes and give me another “we can’t afford a second cell phone” lecture.
Instead he pulled something out of his jacket pocket. It sparkled, bright silver in the kitchen light.
An iPhone.
My eyes met his and I knew instantly that he’d made a sacrifice to pay for this. Most likely he’d cancelled his gym membership.
“Dad, you didn’t have to—”
“Yes, I did. You should have had one these years ago. Your mom would have—” He paused and for a moment it felt like she was here in the room with us. His voice lowered to just above a whisper. “—she would have made sure you had whatever you needed. No matter what it cost.” He gave me a half-smile and more than anything I wanted to throw my arms around his neck and tell him I never really wanted a phone. I’d just wanted to be like all the other teenagers in Crescent Moon Bay.
“You’re still grounded though,” he said. “You can’t have it until Monday morning.”
My throat tightened and I wasn’t sure what to do, so I said the first thing that came into my head. “Does that mean I can’t watch Twilight either?”
“You can watch it on one condition.” He slid my cell phone back in his pocket. “Make us some popcorn first. And grab me a Coke when you bring it out.”
“Deal,” I said. But I wrapped him in a bear hug first, then I stood up and kissed him on the cheek.
Chapter 24
Caleb:
The winds lashed the beach, throwing sand at us like tiny slivers of glass. We’d just completed the first part of the Burning—the duine daonna, where our familiar introduced us to the local humans—and now the second part of the ritual—the faigh muin or the mating ceremony—loomed ahead of us. Some of the young people from the nearby underwater cities of Baile na Bhur and Dunpatrick would be joining us on the beach soon. In preparation, we’d all been swimming for hours, our pheromones sending the call. My muscles quivered and snapped as the seas came alive with a host of other Selkies.
My sister led the way back to the shore, a large crowd following behind her.
A broad-shouldered young man from Baile na Bhur laughed when he left the ocean, one arm around Riley. She tossed her head with a grin, her smile turning cold when she saw me. I’d been avoiding her ever since the party last night, when our world had erupted in a volcano of flashing lights and men in blue uniforms. What she did last night to Kira was unforgivable.
Nobody should be turned like that. Ever.
It was barbaric.
My sister glanced at me then, a solemn expression in her eyes as she wrung the water from her hair. The Burning ran through us all like a river of fire tonight, but I could tell that s
he wanted no part of it. She turned away from the two suitors that flanked her and jogged up the stairs to the house.
The breeze calmed then and the heat grew even stronger, scorching my skin, making my blood race through my veins.
Mare sidled up next to me, smiling, her skin glowing pale green in the moonlight. Her pheromones were strong and her skin hot as she put an arm around my waist. I didn’t have the strength to fight these urges any more. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close, my lips finding the hollow of her neck and then sliding up slowly, hungrily, until our lips met. She tasted of salt and fire, her skin smoked when it collided with mine, sparks dancing in the air around us. The others embraced in pairs, tumbling and laughing on the sand. There was no conversation, no affection, nothing but the Burning, consuming us all.
But this wasn’t what I wanted. Not here, not now.
Somehow, I managed to untangle my arms from hers, refusing to acknowledge the question on her upturned face.
I pulled away, my arms cold from her absence, then I turned and ran toward the surf, feet pounding sand, arms embracing the ocean. My mother, the sea, accepted me, sustained me, gave me strength even though I was weary and confused. I swam, arms beating the surface of the ocean, not sure where I was going until at last my feet hit the sandy bottom on another beach.
I had reached the shoal beneath Kira’s house.
And now she was all I could think about.
I needed to be near her.
The lights in the house were low and the humans quiet. A longing rushed through my chest as I climbed the steps to the cliff, then crawled over the white picket fence. Once inside the yard, I was a shadow, careful not to get too close to the trees or the thorny bushes. Hawthorn bled over every window and door lintel and its presence made me glad.
The air rippled around me, warm and humid, carrying the scent of jasmine. But I was looking for another fragrance: the stench of seaweed and barnacles and rubbery flesh. I knew the Hinquememem was somewhere nearby, for I’d smelled it down on the beach tonight.
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