“It was for your safety,” Jax replied. “Something has changed—there are creatures from the northern depths here. They shouldn’t be in these waters; it’s as if something has called them.” He looked at me curiously.
“Oh?” I said. I was thinking about something else entirely.
Why did you kiss me?
I know I didn’t imagine that kiss. I’d never been kissed like that in my life. But obviously it didn’t make a big impression on Jax. And if he wasn’t going to mention it, then I certainly wasn’t either.
“Why can’t I leave the island?” I asked instead.
Jax scowled. “I’m not accustomed to a Lander speaking to me so freely. Or haranguing me with questions. I wouldn’t recommend that you speak so to the others; you won’t live long if you do.”
“You’re the only First One that I’ve seen,” I said truthfully. “Answer my question, please. What makes you think you can keep me here if I don’t want to stay? I’m sure there must be a way for me to leave.”
Jax strode back to the water, scooped one hand in and lifted it high. Water coursed through his fingers and down his gleaming, muscular arm. “This,” he said. “Water surrounds you, and it’s our domain, not yours. You will stay as long as the Council deems it right for you to stay.”
“Maybe I could talk to this Council.”
“That would not be pleasant for you, believe me,” he called over his shoulder, wading deeper into the sea. “And they’re occupied with more important matters right now. The clan is gathering for Revel.”
“None of this is fair,” I shouted. “I didn’t agree to any of this!”
“There is only one thing you need learn,” Jax said, turning to face me once more. “First Ones rule. Landers obey.” He slid into the water on his back.
He was going to disappear again. I should have been relieved, and yet I didn’t want him to go.
“One more thing, Lander,” he called to me as he glided away. “Tell your people there is a dead man over there on the rocks.”
I stood staring at the water and unable to move for a few seconds. Jax was gone. Had he really just said what I thought he had? Slowly, as if dragged by some invisible rope, I walked farther down the beach, back to the outcropping of black rock.
A tangle of cloth was caught in a crevice. The loose end washed back and forth in the turbulence. I went closer, my heart beating so hard and slow inside my chest that I thought I could hear it over the roar of the sea.
It was only when I stood right over the spot that I could make out a blue shirt and a pair of pants. But it wasn’t just clothes. A man’s body, gray and bloated, lay wedged in the rocks. He stared up blindly, his mouth open and brimming with seawater.
His eyes were gone.
I gasped and looked away—but not before the image of those two bloody, open sockets seared itself into my brain.
Leaping from the rocks, I landed hard on the sand, my palms and knees pressing into the hard wet grit. I jumped up and ran.
“Help!” I yelled as I raced down the beach, but my voice was swallowed up by the wind and the crash of water. And soon, with my running and panic, my breath was reduced to hoarse cries.
I stopped running and tried to calm my breathing before I started a full-blown asthma attack. That wasn’t going to do any good. Raising an alarm wouldn’t help the poor man on the rocks anyway. He was dead.
And part of the sick panic I felt was because I recognized him.
Not from his face, which was—No. Breathe. Don’t think about that. I’d recognized him from the patch on the tattered shirt, still with a faint brown coffee stain and stitched with a name.
Richard.
It was the ticket agent from the ferry terminal.
CHAPTER 8
Several of the island men struggled to remove the body from the rocks. One of them stood apart, yelling and gesturing instructions. The corpse was covered with a canvas tarp, but as I watched, something gray flopped out from underneath when they tried to lift it. It was an arm. I think it was an arm.
I clamped a hand to my mouth, feeling nauseated, and turned closer to Gran. I’d never seen a dead person before and really, really wished I could erase the picture from my mind. The man’s skin had been sliced with deep cuts, like long talons had ripped into him. A piece of his neck had been torn away in a deep, circular wound. But the worst part was those two ragged pulpy holes.
It looked as though he’d been fed on.
I shut my eyes tight and took deep breaths of the sea air. Jax had told me where the body was. Could he have killed the ticket agent?
No. For some reason that I didn’t really want to examine right now, I decided that he hadn’t. He couldn’t have done this.
Not that I had any delusions Jax wouldn’t be capable of killing. He as much as admitted that the First Ones sank ships, and his disdain for humans was pretty obvious.
You just don’t want it to be him.
When I opened my eyes, Sean Gunn was climbing down from the rocks. His cheeks were red from exertion, and sand clung to his tousled hair.
“They’re getting another tarp. We’ll have to take him away in—” He broke off as he caught sight of me. “We need another tarp,” he mumbled, then turned to me and asked, “Are you okay?”
“I think so. Thanks. But should you move him? Won’t the police be coming to investigate?”
“He’ll be taken care of,” said Gran. “He’ll be buried up on the hill. Proper and respectful.”
“But what about finding out what happened?” I asked. “His family? They’ll need to be notified.”
Neither of them responded. Gran stepped closer as if to block my view of the gruesome work. “Don’t you worry, everything will be handled.”
“But what happened to him?” I asked. “How did he get here? Did those Glaukos things do this? Or the First Ones?”
“No,” said Sean. “This was something different. An Icer killed him. They always go for the eyes.”
I let out a breath and realized I was relieved. It hadn’t been Jax. Though this was a stupid thing to focus on at the moment. “Icer?” I said, swallowing. “Do I even want to know what that is?”
“A sea demon,” answered Sean, in that really calm, matter-of-fact way that I was beginning to realize was typical for him. And really annoying. I’d been freaking out ever since I’d arrived here. My body was probably running on adrenaline fumes by now. Meanwhile, Sean sounded like a bored tour guide.
“They come from deep waters up north. They can crawl right out of the water and slip on board, usually at night. But it’s weird.” Sean rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve never seen one this time of year. Or an attack near the island.”
“Why would it come here now?”
Sean shrugged. “Who knows? Stray current. Global warming. A tasty snack wrapped in a little boat. Icers kill pretty much anything in their path. We don’t know if it’s because they’re hungry all the time or if it’s just for fun.” He peered over at the rocks. “Actually, they didn’t eat much of that guy.”
“Hush. Don’t scare the child,” scolded Gran. “Even if it was an Icer—and we’re not sure it was—there’s no need to get Delia worked up.”
“Definitely,” I said, feeling dazed. “Let’s not get me worked up. I mean, maybe there’s something more serious to focus on.”
“Tried to tell you it was dangerous here,” said Gran gruffly. She swung her gray braid behind her.
“I thought you meant like rocks and big waves, Gran. Not”—I shook my head, at a loss—“whatever this is.”
Gran patted my shoulder. “There’s no need to worry, child. We’re safe here; Icers can’t get through the Hands. The current just washed the body in on the tide. That’s why we call this Wreck Beach—everything winds up here eventually.” Gran twitched one of her own bulky cardigans up closer over my shoulders. “Here, keep this on. You must be in shock.”
“Well, yeah.”
Gran, impervious to sar
casm, just nodded. “You want to come inside? The men will take care of this.”
“No,” I said softly. “I’m not cold.”
I was cold. But it wasn’t the kind that any amount of fuzzy knitwear could change. Thick clouds blocked out the sun, and the sea whirled around the island, churned by a cool, sharp wind. We were surrounded by gray water, gray sand and gray sky all blurred together. I couldn’t even see a line for the horizon.
And out there, in the swirling shadows, are monsters.
A foamy curl of surf rolled across the dry sand toward my feet. I shivered and backed away before it could touch me.
“Is this the newcomer?” The man who’d been issuing orders over the removal of the ticket agent’s body strode across the sand. He was middle-aged, with a small frame and a potbelly that strained his plaid shirt.
“I hope you realize this is your fault,” he said, piercing me with a glare from behind wire-rimmed glasses. His head was round and much too large for his body. A few strands of hair clinging to the top broke the shine of his balding scalp. The resemblance to an egg with a bad comb-over was striking.
“What?” I wasn’t sure he’d spoken to me.
“That man’s dead because of you,” he said in a nasal voice, emphasizing each word by jabbing a finger at my face.
“Ed, now, take it easy,” said Gran. “She had no idea. Delia, this is Ed Barney. He’s the mayor of Trespass.”
“My fault?” I whispered, unable to find my voice at first. “I didn’t even know him.”
“Did you give him this?” asked the mayor. He held out a white, plump hand with a gold coin in it. It was the one I’d given to the ticket agent in exchange for arranging my passage with Ben Deare.
“It was still in his pocket. And what’s left of his boat is floating out near Pelican Rock, loaded up with supplies and equipment for digging. The way I figure it, the fella wanted to find some treasure. Got himself killed by an Icer instead.”
“That’s enough, Ed,” Gran said in a voice that carried its own weight. Not in an “I’m an elected official” way but rather an “I’ll kick your ass if you mess with my granddaughter” way. “Delia couldn’t have known what would happen,” Gran went on. “She wanted to come here to bring her mother’s ashes. And now the First Ones have made it pretty clear she’s supposed to stay. And I want her to stay.”
In spite of everything frightening and bizarre that had happened, a sense of quiet happiness filled my chest at her words.
“Is that so?” Ed Barney eyed me. “Well, nobody told me about it. This is a breach of security. A major breach.” He spoke in a fast staccato, as if tapping out his words in Morse code. “This isn’t the end. No, sir. Who knows what this’ll lead to? Foreigners swarming this place by sundown. Treasure hunters. Snoops. Spies.”
“Why does there have to be so much secrecy?” I asked. “I think the whole world would be interested in this place. Weird sea creatures, strange climate. National Geographic would probably give you guys a whole issue. And maybe you could get some protection from these Icers or whatever they are.”
Mayor Ed’s eyes popped and he wriggled his shoulders as if I’d just dropped a poisonous snake down the back of his shirt.
“Well, girlie, that’s just what we don’t want. Prying eyes and interference. That’ll be it. They’ll come in here and cage us all up like animals. Or nuke the place. This is our world, and it runs just fine. As long as we keep outsiders away.” He glared at me as if he really needed to emphasize the point.
“You call that running fine?” I demanded, pointing to the remains of the man up on the rocks.
Sean grabbed my hand. “C’mon, Delia, why don’t we take a walk,” he said, tugging me away. “You don’t mind, do you, Maisie?”
Gran shot him a grateful smile. “That’s fine, Sean, you two go ahead.”
The mayor’s querulous voice followed us down the beach. “I’ll expect to see you all at the services tomorrow. Oh nine hundred. Sharp.”
I was clumsy trying to keep up with Sean’s long-legged strides through the sand and at the same time very aware of the warm clasp of his hand around mine. I wasn’t used to good-looking guys grabbing me and whisking me away for a stroll.
“Hold on a minute!” I said, slowing down. “What’s the big rush? I wanted to talk to that guy.”
“Yeah. I could tell.” Sean’s head was down; he was full of determined momentum. “That’s why we’re taking a walk. Ed Barney may look like a joke, but he’s not. You don’t want to make an enemy of him.”
I planted my feet, forcing Sean to pivot in the sand. Which wasn’t easy, given the size difference between us. It was like trying to stop a quarter horse stallion. “Stop,” I said breathlessly. “This place is insane. You know that, right? I got on a boat in the real world, in the twenty-first century. Now I’m here and nothing makes sense. At all.” Sean opened his mouth and I held up a palm. “And I’m tired of all this ‘you can’t understand’ and ‘we’re so mysterious’ island crap. So don’t even go there.”
“Okay.” Sean nodded. He looked out to sea. “Fair enough. Here’s your quick lesson: Demigods and sea monsters are real. It makes sense fast enough when your life depends on it. Which it does. The end.” He folded his arms.
“So all of this is normal for you? Bodies washing up on the beach. Getting attacked by sea monsters. Just all in a day’s work, huh?”
Whatever lightness there was in Sean’s expression, which wasn’t much, disappeared. “No. When I was growing up, we never saw the First Ones or the Glauks or anything else. Well,” he corrected himself, “only once in a while. They gave us good lobsters in our traps, left crates of supplies on the beach, stuff like that. Intruders were kept away. Nonviolently,” he added, to my questioning look. “To a kid they even seemed kind of cool, like superheroes or something. They protected the island.”
“From things like Icers?”
“Yeah. Usually the Glaukos will patrol a three-mile perimeter around Trespass. Makes it a lot safer to go fishing, though we still have to be careful.”
That would explain the arsenal of weapons on Sean’s boat. Being a fisherman was probably dangerous enough. I couldn’t imagine being out there with real sea monsters. “Creatures from the northern depths have come,” I whispered, thinking aloud.
Sean looked at me. “Who told you that?”
“Jax.”
A worried frown passed over Sean’s face. “We stay separate from the First Ones, Delia. Especially him.”
“Why especially Jax?”
“He’s an outcast from their clan. A troublemaker.”
“What did he do?”
Sean laughed. “Jeez, I don’t know.” He put his hands in the pockets of his jeans and hunched his shoulders against a sudden breeze. “We don’t usually have any contact with the First Ones. That’s one of the rules of the Accord. Well,” he added, “no contact except for Revel.”
I pulled my wind-fluttered hair out of my eyes. “Revel. Zuzu mentioned that. It’s some kind of a party, right?”
Sean looked out to the water. “Oh yeah,” he said in an odd voice. “It’s a hell of a party.”
“So tell me why nobody leaves Trespass,” I said. “You have a boat, you go to Portland to sell your lobsters, right? Why don’t you just leave here and never come back?”
Sean stopped and for a moment I thought he didn’t understand the question, he looked so puzzled. “Where would I go?” he said at last. “This is my home. Besides, I would never turn my back on my family, my friends. I have to protect them.”
It might have sounded melodramatic except for the delivery. Sean Gunn spoke as though he’d told me his address or phone number, just simple facts he was absolutely sure of.
What would it be like to feel like that? Like such a part of something that you would never leave it, and would protect it with your life.
“So you like living here,” I said, searching his open, honest face. “Okay, I get that. But isn’t there an
yplace else you’d like to see? In the whole world?”
Sean stepped closer. “You know, you ask a lot of questions.” His eyes weren’t all brown, I noticed; when I got close I could see they had flecks of green and bronze around the irises. And the tips of his dark eyelashes looked like they’d been brushed with gold.
“Yeah, well, you know … tourists.”
“This island might seem like a nightmare to you,” Sean said. “But it can be okay. Magical, even. You’ll see. Look.” He bent down and plucked up something from the sand and put it in my hand. “This is sea glass. And that’s a good-luck color. You can make a wish.”
I looked down at a piece of glass in the center of my palm, a softly rounded triangle of hazy blue. I closed my fingers around it and smiled at the sweet gesture. “Thanks. Maybe I should save it for when I really need one.”
“No way,” Sean said, and folded his arms. “That’s cheating.”
“Well, that’s me all over.” I grinned up at him. “A hardened criminal in the fraudulent-wishing department. Sometimes I even make two when I blow out the candles.”
He smiled at me, and suddenly he looked like a cute guy again. Not like someone carrying a world of worry on his shoulders. “Maybe you shouldn’t have come here,” he said quietly. “But I’m glad you did.”
CHAPTER 9
The next day was the funeral service for the dead man. As if to be ironic about it, the weather turned beautiful. Blue skies twinkled overhead and the air smelled wonderful, like the whole island had been washed and tumble-dried with wildflower dryer sheets. Gran and I walked to the island’s small cemetery, located on a grassy windswept hilltop and enclosed by a black iron gate.
In the center of the graveyard, one monument stood above the others, a solid pillar of silvery granite about eight feet high. The top was carved with strange symbols. Some were the same as those I’d seen on the dock and in the village.
Now I realized it wasn’t a pitchfork at all, but a trident.
Poseidon’s symbol.
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