Chapter 15 #2
“Sooooo, I have to admit that I don’t know anything about the ward, so any other information you could tell me would be so helpful. I would love to get that back up and running as soon as we could. Anything you can tell me about any of this?”
“Your human problems are not my concern. The things that happen on land are yours and yours alone to deal with. I am too busy making sure that the sea remains calm.”
With that, the eye slowly blinks again, and the tentacle unwraps itself from my leg, slithering wetly across the rocks and back into the ocean.
The eye stares at us balefully for one more moment, and I find myself crying out, “Wait! If you could just tell me what to do—”
But the eye disappears again, leaving only the choppy water sliced apart by fat raindrops and no hint of what is apparently lurking just below the surface.
“She said that something is coming,” I say to Caleb.
“She?” he asks, perplexed. Not that I’m blame him, it’s a whole mood. “Oh yeah? Well what do you mean she said something? I didn’t hear anything.”
“She was talking in my mind,” I finally say. “I’ve never even heard — I’ve never experienced anything like that. I mean, I have the visions and whatnot, but I’ve never had anything speak directly into my mind.”
“You have visions?” Caleb says.
“It’s really not something that we need to talk about right now.
You know, I think we need to focus on the fact that there’s a giant royal sea creature just off the shore of our town who’s saying that unless we get the ward back up and running — or the rune or whatever the hell that is — that there’s something in the ocean that’s coming for us that she’s doing her best to hold off. ”
I shake my head.
“I don’t like the sound of that.” Caleb holds out a hand, and I grab it, grateful for the steadying touch and the fact he’s offering it at all after that freakiness.
Rain spills off the yellow hood, seeping into the neckline of my dress where it pours down my neck.
“A squid that can talk inside your head. This is all sounding very Dungeons and Dragons,” he says.
“Huh? What do you mean?” I blink up at him, tugging the hood further over my face.
“He’s talking about the stuff like cephlapods that use mind control,” Gunner explains.
“Like slugs, you know? Horror. It’s like a whole stereotype of squid people.
Mind flayers. Isn’t that right, Caleb?" Gunner tilts his head, rain running right off his waterproof coat. "Didn’t you watch Stranger Things, Ivy? How do you not know what Dungeons and Dragons is?”
“I have heard of it!” I totally fell asleep during Stranger Things.
“It’s really taking off, honestly,” Gunner continues. “One group of players recently sold out Madison Square Garden so people could watch them play live.”
“Is that what that credit card charge was last month?”
“I plead the fifth,” Gunner says.
“The fact that your dog—”
“Familiar,” Gunner corrects.
“—knows about mind flayers is mildly concerning and pretty impressive,” Caleb says.
“Concerning and impressive,” I repeat. “Kind of like him using my credit card to stream role playing games.”
I pause, trying to get back to the problem at hand (at tentacles?), but I have no thoughts.
My brain is spinning too fast to come up with anything.
And after the adrenaline and shock of being touched and spoken to telepathically — no less by a giant royal kraken — I’m starting to get completely exhausted.
“I think I’m gonna need something stronger than hot cocoa,” I tell Caleb.
“Well, we can certainly do that,” he says.
We slog the rest of the way back to the house in silence, and I’m grateful Caleb had the presence of mind to throw a couple of towels into the dryer.
Before long, the toasty warm towels have been put to good use, and we manage to dry off quickly once we remove the yellow slickers and galoshes.
I must be in a certain amount of shock because somehow Caleb manages to press something warm and alcoholic into my hand and steer me toward the couch.
“It’s a hot toddy,” he says.
“Can I have one?” Gunner asks.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Caleb tells him.
“Gunner, you know you can’t have alcohol. You remember what happened the last time I let you have some margarita.” I side-eye him.
“That was one time,” he says. “How many times have you had too much to drink?”
“Now is not the time to discuss that,” I say tersely.
I lean back against the couch, sighing and completely done with today. Completely done with the pressure of all of this.
“I’m going to call your sisters,” Caleb says. “You drink your hot toddy. I’ll tell them what just happened, and you rest, okay? I got you.”
“I mean, I can talk to them. It’s really not a big deal,” I argue. “Let me just—”
I take a long sip of the hot drink in front of me.
It burns all the way down my throat before settling into my chest with a gentle, delicious warmth that loosens my limbs almost all at once. I didn’t eat dinner, I realize. I take another sip because suddenly, I just don’t care.
I’m faintly aware of Caleb rummaging through my purse and calling my sisters on the phone as I continue to sip the hot toddy, snuggling under a blanket that he must have laid over me at some point.
Gunner hops on the couch next to me, circling three times before he tucks his nose into his tail, pushing his big fluffy black body up against mine.
One huge doggy sigh later, and Gunner’s asleep.
I pet his velvety ears, drinking the hot tea and whiskey combination and letting the droning sound of Caleb’s words wash over me before my eyes get heavy and I fall asleep, too.