Chapter 34 #2
“Did she have any idea why they met on August first?”
“No. Mr. Tavernish just took off in his wagon, even though it was already evening, and didn’t come back until the next day.”
The island bosses certainly hoarded secrets.
Mr. Tavernish had to know who’d been living in the cabin on his property.
As for Mr. Gotze, surely there was more to discover about his fear of sea wolves, especially whether or not it had driven him to unspeakable acts against his interpreter.
A plan begins to form in my head. As a showing of goodwill between our companies, we’d like you to reinstate the fishing derby, Mr. Gotze said.
“So what did this information cost you?”
Nash floats a smirk to me, then catches sight of my blood-soaked bandage. “I had to tell Prosper about the picture I was drawing. Before that rabid watchdog snatched it from me.”
“How many more years must I wait to find out?”
He shows me a lopsided smile. “A little mermaid looking out to a sea.”
“I hardly see how that would incite Koa to violence.”
“Maybe it was the birthmark I drew on her neck.” He settles back, slouched at an angle. “I mean, it wasn’t a great picture, but I liked it.”
I stare straight ahead, my neck warming, and wonder if it is the sea wolves or just my own embarrassment causing the sensation. Maybe both. Was I simply a curiosity for him growing up, or had there been true sentiment behind that drawing? He kept the tennis ball…
I shake my head as if to dislodge the thoughts that shouldn’t take priority and focus on the things that matter. Murderers on the loose. Demons and sea wolves.
The big house on the fishhook-shaped curve comes into view. Masses of bull kelp stretch out on either side of us. Rounding the curve, I am surprised to see three Rifles assembled on the spine of the marina: Koa, Red, and the new recruit, Horlick, with his horn-shaped hair tufts.
All three are watching Doc guide the Hure into a slip, steered by Jeddah in the enclosed cabin.
Gilly doesn’t usually go out on Sunday, but maybe he felt compelled to after last night’s outburst. The Hure is in need of a good overhaul, with numerous scratches and barnacles along the side.
The fisherman stands at the back railing, rolling his net around the drum.
Koa glances at me, and my heart pinches. I hide my bandaged hand, but his face turns grim as he takes in the situation—the dark stains on my front, my hair askew—and Eva crushing her straw hat. Nash cuts the engine and lets the current drift us closer.
Doc chucks away his cigarette and cups his hands around his mouth. “Mind the kelp, Lady Vee.” He’ll have to catch us by rope and tug us into the slip.
A surge in the ocean turns us, facing us broadside to the top of the comb-shaped marina. As we swing about, my attention is caught by a sudden spray of water about two hundred feet away, followed by a gasping stream of vapor. My entire neck has gone hot.
“Sea wolf!” someone yells. “She’ll crash the dock!”
Water sloshes off the creature’s back as she rises. Is it Shadow? I can barely make out the gray saddle patch. Rising, I stand between the bucket seats, my legs as stubborn as buoys.
The water clears away, and I recognize the mark I spent hours drawing. It’s her. Scull must be close behind.
“Lucy.” Koa’s growl easily carries across the hundred feet between us. “Get down.”
Scull rolls up next to her mother, the spot behind her dorsal fin round as a pearl. “It’s Shadow and Scull,” I tell Eva, who has tied her limbs around herself. “Don’t be scared.”
My sea-wolf sense fills me with warmth and awareness. Shadow notices the noisy creatures around her but is more intrigued by her calf, who is joyfully nosing a log about.
Look at me, look what I found, Scull cries.
Careful of your eye, Shadow answers.
I marvel that where once my sea-wolf sense was a simple feeling, it has expanded in my consciousness like a complicated chord on the Aeolian organ.
It is both hum and dimension, salt and warmth, falling and sailing and the hustle of a current.
It is a memory of matriarchs. As Shadow’s emotions flow into me, I think she must feel mine, too.
There is a pleasant sensation of acknowledgment. The squeeze of a hand.
Scull recognizes me too and emits a watery squeak, her log forgotten.
My eyes well with emotion. A divine species.
“Get. Down.” Koa’s voice booms, serious as a shark bite.
I glance back at him, startled to see all three Rifles lined up at the top of the comb, tracing waves with their firearms, marking shots. Your Rifles shoot pests like wild pigs. Gotze’s sharp voice cuts through my head. Why should sea wolves be any different?
“What are you doing? Don’t shoot!”
Nash has gotten to his feet as well, and glares at the men now less than fifty feet away, one in particular. “Job getting to you?” he throws at Koa. “Maybe you should take up embroidery. Work on your softer side.”
“I’ll show you my softer side, you city rat.”
The nose of Koa’s rifle tips toward Nash. Koa cocks it. Nash’s eyes go wide, but he barks out a laugh.
My heart slams to a halt. “Stop it! Put those guns down!”
Nash pulls off his boater hat. And before I can grasp his intent, he pulls me into his embrace and kisses me. It is nothing like our kiss on the tennis court, only a humiliating mockery of it. I try to push him away, but he holds me firmly, bringing the boater hat up to eclipse Koa’s view.
With both hands, I shove his chest.
“Stop!” I cry, the word getting lost between our lips.
A wave hits the boat, and we both stumble. Nash lands on his seat, and I catch myself against the windshield.
Behind the Rifles, Gilly strains at the rails of the Hure, his grizzled hair flying around his head. “I told you the spirit wants revenge!” His voice carries across the water. “You should’ve kept out of the water, girl. It knows you’re like him. Fire, you fools. Fire!”
Horlick braces wide, rifle trembling. Suddenly his gun looks as if it is holding him and not the other way around.
“No! Don’t listen,” I snarl, refusing to sit and pushing away Nash, who tries to coax me down. Sure, Koa provoked him, but does Nash have to keep rising to the bait? “That’s an order!”
Koa shakes his head. The crowd has thickened on the marina, yelling or entranced, some covering their faces.
“Do it, boys! Kill that devil and her spawn!” Gilly howls like a prophet of doom. “It’ll come for all of us!”
A warning shot is fired, an explosion of sky whose echo burrows into my ear.
To Shadow it is an annoyance. She slaps her tail, rocking the Lady Vee so hard my feet fly out from under me—
—and then I’m gone.
The water makes a strange gulping sound when I plunge into its bone-chilling depths, flooding my mouth, eyes, and ears.
My arms feel as immobile as feathers in mud.
Where is up? Where is down? My mind spins, a compass trying to find north.
Something slimy engulfs my face—kelp, eels?
Moonies? My lungs begin to squeeze in panic, and I thrash against whatever has caught me.
But the ocean squats on top of me like a thousand-pound giant.
Living and dead things whirl around, a universe over which I have lost control.
I did not think I would die today.
But no matter how I push, pull, and fight, I cannot outwit the sea.
Something warm and solid nudges against my belly. I am lifted; sweet air fills my lungs and hot tears roll down my cheeks. And then I am hugging a five-hundred-pound quivering torpedo of jubilation. Her warm, sensitive hide is so new, it shines like spilled ink.
“God almighty.” Gilly’s voice has gone hoarse. “The beast is eating her. Fire! Fire!”
Eyes stinging, I make out Koa’s horrified expression and shake my head. Don’t.
Scull’s breath against my cheek smells of milk and fish.
With a grimace heavy enough to buckle the dock, Koa lowers his rifle and whistles sharply for the others to do the same.
Then—
The boom of a rifle shatters my heart.
Shadow slips beneath the surface.
Scull breaks from my arms, her tail smacking me as she bolts away.
Mother and calf vanish into the depths.
And do not rise again.