Revel

by Maurissa Guibord

  “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he said, a smile lighting his eyes mischievously. With sun sparkling on his gleaming skin and away from the gloom of the sea caves, he looked as spectacular as before. Like Mr. July from the Greek gods calendar.

  I pushed his hands away. “Thanks. Next time I want to be abducted, I know who to call.”

  His smile broadened. “My pleasure. Goodbye for now, little oyster. I will see you at Revel.”

  That smile frightened me, but I didn’t want Mikos to know it. “Goodbye,” I said, hoping that my voice sounded calmer than I felt.

  CHAPTER 13

  “This isn’t good,” said Gran. She paced in long strides across her porch, the boards creaking beneath her while I sat on a wicker chair.

  I’d just finished telling her about my encounter with Jax and Mikos and then with the other First Ones in the sea caves.

  “Having the First Ones take an interest in you is dangerous enough.” Gran rubbed the scar on her neck in a nervous, repetitive motion. “Offending them is worse. I should’ve told you not to interfere with that Glaukos on the beach. There was nothing you could do to help the poor creature. And you might have been killed. Whatever possessed you?”

  “I just couldn’t stand seeing it suffer like that.” I pulled my knees up and curled myself deeper into the sagging embrace of the chair. “Or hearing those cries. It was horrible.”

  Gran looked at me with warmth and sympathy in her eyes. “I know,” she said. “You’ve got a good heart, bless you, child. But you’re impulsive, just like your mother. Be careful taking things into your own hands like that. The tide can turn on you awful fast.”

  “If something is wrong,” I argued, “Mom raised me to do something about it. Not sit by and be quiet.”

  Gran sighed and leaned against the corner post of the porch. “Sometimes it’s not so clear what’s right and wrong. You mustn’t be too quick to judge.”

  There were some things that my grandmother and I might never agree on. Maybe the fact that I wasn’t raised here would prevent me from ever really understanding the way of life on Trespass. I changed the subject.

  “Tell me what the First Ones meant about Revel, Gran. What is this tribute I’m supposed to pay?”

  Gran stopped her movements and became very quiet. “I’d hoped that you wouldn’t be involved with that. At least, not this year.” She passed a weary hand over her eyes. “Let me think on it a bit, Delia. I’m awfully tired. We’ll talk about it later.”

  A few days after my encounter with the First Ones, Sean invited me out to lunch. We were supposed to meet Zuzu and Reilly at the Snug, but they hadn’t shown up yet. We’d been sitting together over bowls of savory clam chowder and slices of corn bread. Sean seemed quiet and distant. His brown eyes were as warm and attractive as always, but there were shadows beneath them, as if he hadn’t slept well.

  “I really like you,” he said, looking at me suddenly.

  I smiled and felt warmth color my cheeks. “Thanks, Sean. I like you too.”

  “I wish you’d never come here.”

  “Okay.” I coughed to clear my throat. “Let me explain the whole concept of a segue. You say something leading into a topic. Usually the next thing is sort of related to that same topic.”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry.” Sean dropped his head back and blew out a frustrated breath. “That came out wrong. It’s just that I can see how hard things are for you here and I feel bad. You must be homesick, right?”

  “Well, yes,” I said. “I guess so.” I picked up my spoon and swirled it in the milky broth of the chowder. “I miss some stuff. Going to the movies with my friends, shopping at the mall, not getting swept into underground sea lairs. That kind of thing.”

  Sean nodded, the corner of his mouth pulling into a crooked smile. I’d told him about facing the First Ones in the sea caves.

  “But I’m fine,” I told him. “I’ve done a lot of exploring around the island, and I’ve been helping Gran with the gardens. And building a pretty impressive shell and sea glass collection. I made this.” I lifted a necklace from my throat and leaned forward.

  The necklace was made from the piece of blue sea glass he’d given me, entwined in silvery wire. But if Sean realized it, he didn’t show it or comment.

  He only nodded. “That’s pretty.”

  “So what about those fishing lessons?” I asked, letting the necklace fall back into place.

  Sean grimaced apologetically. “Sorry. Things have been kind of crazy these last few days.” He stared at his chowder. “Work and stuff.”

  “Why don’t you tell me about it?” I asked. “Look. I know you’re doing more than just fishing out there, Sean. I mean, your boat is fitted out with all those weapons, and you’re out there at times when the other fishermen are all back with their catches. Are you hunting the Icers?”

  “That’s part of it,” he said. He looked reluctant to say anything more, and I didn’t want to push. These people were raised on traditions of secrecy.

  “Just be careful, okay? Please? I think you’re the only guy around who’s brave enough to be near me when I’m holding a fishing pole. But there’s no rush on the lessons.” I smiled. “I’m not going anywhere, right?”

  “Right.” Sean picked up his spoon but dropped it and it clattered under the table. “Damn it. No, it’s okay, I was done anyway.”

  “But you’ve hardly eaten anything.”

  He straightened up and leaned over the table. “I need to tell you something,” he said in a low voice. He spoke fast, as if he wanted to get it off his chest. “Things are different here, ever since you came. Before, everything was on an even keel, right? I knew where I stood. Now …” He rubbed his hands over his fatigued-looking eyes. “I’m not so sure.”

  This conversation was so not going the way I had expected.

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “Have I done something to upset you?”

  “It’s just …” Sean hesitated, seeming to search for the words. “You seem to think you can live your life any way you want.”

  “Well, yeah,” I said. “Hence the name my life.”

  Sean didn’t smile. “You can’t do that here. We have to think about how our actions will affect everyone.”

  “But I haven’t done anything to hurt anyone,” I said in a low voice, hating how it suddenly trembled. “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “I know you wouldn’t, not on purpose,” said Sean. His voice was gentle. “But what about that guy from the mainland? The ticket agent. He died because he helped you get here and then came snooping around. He broke the rules and got killed by an Icer. We still haven’t figured out how the Icer got into our waters without the Glaukos intercepting it. And Ben is lucky that the First Ones didn’t do more than rough him up a little and ruin his boat.” He leaned over the table. “And what about interfering with the punishment of that Glauk? The First Ones could have killed you, Delia. And I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if that Glauk had gotten loose and cut you with its tail.”

  “But they didn’t,” I said. “And it didn’t. And I’m fine.”

  I took a gulp of my ice water to ease the tightness in my throat. Apparently Sean had only invited me here to give me a lecture.

  “Yeah, well,” he murmured. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” He reached to take my hand and his thumb brushed over my knuckles. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.” He turned my hand over in his. “Wow, you heal up pretty quick, don’t you?” he remarked, staring at my palm. “I can’t even see the mark where we dug out that fishhook.” He smiled. “You’re so tiny. Like a little china doll.”

  “Yeah,” I said softly, “so I’ve been told.” I withdrew my hand from his, still hurt by his remarks.

  Maybe my coming here had set off a chain of events. Bad events. But it wasn’t like I’d deliberately done anything to harm anyone. Sean had no right to make me feel like … like a monster.

  “Wha
t do you want me to do?” I asked quietly.

  Sean lifted his head, a look of relief on his face. “For starters, just stay away from the water for a while, okay?” He smiled. “Every time you get wet, it spells trouble.”

  I returned the smile uncertainly. When I’d first come to Trespass, his advice would have been unnecessary. Of course I would stay out of the water. Duh. But now … Sean’s request made me feel uncomfortable. The water held an appeal for me that I couldn’t deny. And I knew Sean’s protectiveness was well meant, but he was treating me like some wayward child.

  “I’ll try,” I said at last. It was the most I could promise.

  Zuzu breezed into the Snug, followed by Reilly. “Sorry we’re late,” said Reilly. He nodded toward Zuzu. “Some kind of hair-care emergency.” He sat down, folded his long arms together and rested his elbows on the table.

  “I don’t care what you say, that is not an oxymoron,” Zuzu told him. She eyed my chowder. When I put a protective hand over it, she smiled. Then her eyes widened.

  “I love your necklace,” Zuzu said. “Blue’s a really lucky color, you know. You can make a wish.”

  “Thanks,” I said, glancing at Sean. He’d told me the same thing when he’d given it to me. But Sean seemed distant and only stared past me, as if he wished he were somewhere else.

  Something was going on with Sean. If only he would trust me enough to tell me about it. I cared about him. He did so much to take care of everyone else around here, but in some ways he was like an island himself. Strong, self-sufficient and remote. At least from me.

  CHAPTER 14

  My promise to Sean about staying away from the water was harder to keep than I’d thought. I was growing to love the sea.

  Every morning the tide made a new beach, washing away whatever had been there before and leaving new treasures. And the water was never the same color twice. Some days the waves were rich indigo blue, sparkling with winks of sunlight; on others, a bleak gray as cold and heartless as stone.

  It was a hot summer, and the island’s strange climate made the air even more sticky and humid. I’d asked Reilly about it and he confirmed my suspicion about the volcanic rock I’d seen on the beach. The island was located over a volcano with enough remnant activity to have superheated underground springs. Trespass had its own distinct ecosystem within the otherwise cold North Atlantic. He’d gone into way more detail than I could remember or understand, but the fact was that here on Trespass and in the waters nearby, we had a variety of plants and animals that were tropical, all year round. Zuzu had countered his scientific explanations, telling me that it was the powers of the First Ones that kept the waters warm and melted the snow and ice in winter.

  I wasn’t sure which one to believe, and finally decided that it might be a combination of the two. Perhaps the ancient sea gods had chosen this island for safekeeping of their powers just because of its special qualities. The idea satisfied me somehow. A combination of magic and logic.

  The weather was certainly great for flowers—hyacinths and rhododendrons and sea roses grew everywhere—but I always felt wilted.

  And my hair. Gah.

  Most days it looked like I’d been the victim of some home-perm guerrilla warfare. The best option seemed to be pulling the curls through a baseball cap, the visor of which gave the added benefit of sun protection.

  I would sit on the sand and look out at the water. At first just seeing it and feeling the cool breeze was enough to refresh me, to take away the gritty heat of the sun. But every day I ventured a little closer.

  One afternoon I just couldn’t take it anymore. It was so hot. I’d collected a handful of sea glass to make a necklace for Zuzu. The pieces were sandy and needed to be rinsed.

  Besides, I hadn’t exactly promised to stay out of the water, as I recalled. I’d only said I would try. Sean Gunn couldn’t just tell me what to do—that was ridiculous. I would put my feet in to the ankles; there was no harm in that.

  The sand scrubbed against the soles of my feet as I stepped in, and cool water wrapped over my skin in ribbons. I let out a long breath and closed my eyes. Bliss.

  Scooping water over my arms, I sighed with the sheer pleasure of the coolness. It felt like my skin drank it in, slaking its own thirst. I yanked off my hat and tossed it to the sand, then pressed a handful of water to the back of my neck and let it trickle down my spine.

  “I’ve been waiting.”

  I turned to see Jax standing in the water and felt my heart begin to beat faster. Or maybe it wasn’t that fast, I was simply conscious of it all of a sudden. Really conscious. Like my beating heart took up all of me.

  “Waiting? For what?” I managed to ask, sliding into deeper water. The cooling effect seemed to have disappeared.

  Jax strode closer, his powerfully built body sparkling with drops of water in the sunlight. The ugly scars across his torso stood out in painful-looking detail. “You. Why haven’t you come swimming again?”

  “The water’s not safe. You told me that.” I looked around. “And this isn’t Lander’s Beach. It’s all about the rules here, right? I’m learning.”

  “Rules,” Jax murmured. His eyes shone like crystallized seawater from some azure depths. “Yes, the rules. But you don’t follow the rules, do you?”

  “Apparently you don’t either.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, his square-cut jaw hardening.

  “Well, you’re talking to me,” I said. “Isn’t that against the rules? The Accord?”

  “I suppose it is,” he said gruffly.

  “Why are you talking to me?” I wasn’t trying to flirt or be coy. If Jax was here because of some order of the First Ones to keep tabs on me, I wanted to know. And I didn’t think he would try to hide it. He was more brazen than that. More proud.

  “I’m not sure,” Jax said, after a moment. “I like the sound of your voice. Even from the first night, when I heard you singing that ridiculous song.”

  “Oh, that,” I said, embarrassed.

  Jax frowned, inspecting my face. “You look different. Where are your eye lenses?”

  Startled, I reached up to touch the bridge my nose. “I must have forgotten them,” I said. “That’s weird.” It wasn’t the first time I’d left the house without noticing their absence. And yet I could see Jax perfectly clearly. What was happening to me?

  “Show me what is in your hand.”

  I’d almost forgotten what brought me to the water. I lifted my hand and showed him the pieces of sea glass. With the sand washed away, they sparkled in the sunlight. Amber, green and frosty white.

  “Why do you pick up those bits of glass?” he asked. “It’s only trash.”

  “I think they’re pretty,” I said, letting them tumble softly in my hand. “Like little jewels.”

  “Jewels from broken bottles,” he said dismissively.

  I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter how something starts. It’s what it becomes. After all, diamonds come from lumps of coal.”

  “Would you want some?”

  “Lumps of coal?”

  “Diamonds.” He looked at me steadily, as if trying to puzzle something out in his mind.

  “Uh, no. I’m good. Thanks.” I turned away, heading back to the sand.

  “Mikos said I frightened you. Is that true?” Jax’s voice was subtly altered. He sounded awkward. Unsure.

  I looked at him and remembered the cool savagery he’d displayed with the knife at his hip. Plus he was a demigod and probably capable of things I couldn’t even imagine. Did that frighten me?

  “Yes,” I confessed. “You frightened me.”

  “Because I’m ugly,” Jax said. He spoke without heat or resentment. As if he just wanted me to confirm what he already knew.

  “No,” I answered swiftly, narrowing my eyes. “Because of what you did.”

  Jax seemed baffled. “You wanted me to help you free the creature. I thought you would be pleased.”

  “You cut off its freaking foot!”
>
  Jax shrugged. “They grow back.”

  “What?”

  “The Glaukos can regenerate lost limbs if they are severed. I thought you knew this.”

  “Oh,” I said, taken aback. “No, I didn’t.” I hesitated. “I’m not sure it makes a difference.”

  “I suspect it does to the Glaukos,” Jax said gravely.

  The spark of amusement in his eyes made me smile despite myself, and I waded into the water until I stood near him. After all, it wasn’t every day that I got to see a demigod up close. My T-shirt and shorts felt heavy and ungainly as they clung to my body.

  “You remind me of a fish,” he said.

  “Gee, thanks. You really know how to charm a girl, don’t you?” I walked past him, tugging my hips against the small waves.

  “No,” he said gruffly as I passed, “I don’t.”

  Jax followed me into deeper water until we faced each other. “There is a blue fish that lives in the coral,” he said. “The female is very small but fiercely protective of its children and home. And its mate. We call it diabolika.” His blue eyes roved over my face. “ ‘Small she-devil.’ ”

  It sounded suspiciously like the Tasmanian Devil’s wife from Looney Tunes. And not very complimentary. “Does she spin around and gnash her teeth a lot?” I asked.

  “No. She’s actually … very beautiful,” Jax said in a low voice.

  “Oh,” I managed to say. I had that breathless feeling again, and there was a peculiar sensation in my knees, as if they’d been shot full of novocaine and Jell-O.

  The water held me and I let it, sinking into the buoyant embrace until it covered my breasts. I had to close my eyes just for a second to simply feel it as I breathed in the clean scent of the ocean. It felt like heaven.

  I opened my eyes to see Jax watching me.

  Ugly? Maybe compared to Mikos’s plastic-looking perfection. But Jax was anything but ugly to me; in fact, his face kind of fascinated me. It was … arresting. He seemed young to have a face like that. His broad forehead had two creases that became rolled-up furrows when he frowned. Beneath his proud, battered nose was a mouth of narrow precision, making him look reserved and somehow vulnerable. A dark stubble of beard roughened the raw-boned angle of his jaw.