Will put his hand to his head. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Getting the scoop, man, what else?”
“But how did you even know—”
“Uncle Barry let me borrow a police scanner.” Angus stood up and took a few steps toward the ER. “Is he—” Then he caught sight of some movement behind a curtain, and took off.
Will reluctantly hauled himself out of the comfortable chair. It was a beautiful hospital, made plush for the wealthy summer people who hurt themselves in a fishing accident or while slicing a bagel. Everything in the Walfang hospital was nicer than it needed to be.
Will wandered down the hallway, admiring the clean white walls adorned with black-and-white nature photos. But there was no way to make the beeping machines and medical equipment look elegant. The doctors and nurses in their blue scrubs, too, seemed like ugly afterthoughts in a pristine architectural concept.
Kirk was lying on a white bed half hidden by a gray curtain, with Angus hovering over him.
“How many, do you think?” Angus asked. “One? More than one?”
Kirk looked blank. “I don’t remember.” His voice was hoarse, as if he had just spent a week in the desert. A mauve plastic pitcher sat by the bedside, next to a stack of plastic cups.
“Look, try to remember. If there’s some kind of gang—”
“This isn’t the Crips and the Bloods, Angus.” Will poured some water into a cup and handed it to Kirk, who took it, gulping madly. “It’s Walfang. We have cows. Kirk’s just torn up because he dragged himself from one end of the island to the other.”
“Thanks,” Kirk said when he had finished, handing the cup back to Will.
“Are you the interviewee?” Angus asked.
“What’s happening?” Kirk asked. It was strange to hear him sounding so lucid—as if the drugs had worn off and he’d come back to himself, finally. He had a small voice, almost like a child’s, and it made Will feel protective.
“Nothing. Just … don’t worry about it,” Will told him. “Angus, leave him alone.”
“Look, I’m just doing my job,” Angus said. “Is it wrong to want to get to the bottom of the story?”
“Actually, the doctors said there’s nothing wrong with me,” Kirk said. He looked down at himself. He was wearing a pale blue and white hospital gown. “They said—” His sentence was interrupted by the appearance of Kirk’s sister. “Adelaide?”
“Doctors can’t find anything wrong with you, except for scraped-up feet and some glass in your arm,” Kirk’s sister told him. “They say I can take you home.” She didn’t look particularly excited at the prospect. She tossed a pair of clean jeans and a folded T-shirt onto the end of the bed. “Put those on, and we’ll get out of here.” At that moment she seemed to notice Angus for the first time. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Angus looked offended. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
“Look, my brother isn’t talking to you.”
“What if he has something to say?” Angus asked.
“He doesn’t.” Adelaide flashed Kirk a stern glance. Kirk seemed to shrink a little under the glare, like a turtle retreating into its shell.
“Come on, Angus, let’s get out of here.” Will tugged at his friend’s sleeve, and Angus flashed Adelaide one last glare before following his friend out the door.
They were silent as they stepped outside under the bright lights that illuminated the parking lot. Will felt the anger coursing through him, burning up, like a scrap of paper that flares, then turns to ash in a matter of moments. Angus pressed a button on his keychain, and a black BMW chirped in response.
“Where’s your car?” Will asked.
“Dad’s asleep,” Angus replied. “I figured he wouldn’t mind.”
“You mean notice.”
“That’s what I said.” Angus grinned.
“Okay.” Will decided that it was easier not to argue. “I’ll see you, man,” he said as Angus yanked open the car door.
Angus leaned his weight against the top of the door. “Hey, Will,” he called.
Will turned back. “Yeah?”
“Did he say anything to you?” Angus asked. “When you found him?”
“No,” Will told him.
Angus nodded. “Poor kid. I don’t know if we’ll ever find out the full story behind Mr. Newkirk Alexander Worstler. Beyond the fact that he’s completely nuts, I mean. Well—”
“Wait, what?” The wheels of Will’s mind were spinning like tires on wet ice.
“I said he’s nuts.”
“No—you said … what did you call him?”
Angus shrugged. “Newkirk? That’s his name. Must be a family name, I guess. Newkirk.” He rolled his eyes. “With a name like that, no wonder he’s crazy.”
Will shook his head. “Family name …” Newkirk. As in James Newkirk. Could Kirk be related to the captain in Asia’s story? But she’d said that James had never married again. Then Will suddenly remembered, But he had a son. An adopted son. The boy Asia saved.
The boy who understood her language. He was becoming more like me every day, Asia had said.
Will turned back. He started toward the hospital at a dead trot.
“Hey,” Angus called. “Hey, Will!”
Will ignored him. He had to talk to Kirk.
When he raced back into the room, Adelaide was helping Kirk out of his bed. Will’s eye fell on a familiar shape on the bedside table, and his heart stopped. “Where did you get that?”
Kirk looked over at the flute. “I … I don’t know.” But his face had turned white.
“Did you—were you in my room?” Will’s voice was practically a scream.
“Hey, back off,” Adelaide told him.
“I don’t know where it came from,” Kirk insisted, his face registering confusion. “I … maybe …” He put a hand to his forehead. “Where do you … do you live near the bay?”
“Just take it and get out of here,” Adelaide snapped. “Nobody cares about your stupid flute, asshole.”
“You didn’t play it,” Will said.
A machine beeped, the only sound in the room.
“Tell me you didn’t play it!” Will said.
Kirk shook his head, but he looked unsure.
Oh, God. Did Kirk call those hell beasts in from the water?
Suddenly Kirk’s words came back to him like a horn through fog. The fury must awake!
Awake.
Will’s eyes darted to the wall. It was long past midnight. Gretchen, he thought. If Gretchen sleepwalked while those things were in the bay …
Will turned and slammed into Angus, who was just coming through the door. “Dude!” Angus cried. Will stumbled, recovered.
And he ran.
Chapter Fourteen
From the Walfang Gazette
Yacht Ventures Into Bay,
Causes Gas Spill
The Penelope, a yacht owned by fashion designer Newell Orlost, ran aground on a sandbar in Walfang Bay this afternoon. Unfortunately, her reserve tank of gasoline was ruptured in the accident, causing a sizeable fuel spill in the bay. Hazmat workers should be on the scene later tomorrow.
“Any time we see a spill of this nature, there is always a threat to wildlife,” said Martin Olvides, professor of …
Guernsey was barking at the gate as Will roared up on his motorcycle. She went crazy when she saw him, leaping and lunging at the pickets.
Will unlatched the gate and reached for Guernsey’s collar, but the dog pushed past him. She bolted toward the fields, her thirteen-year-old legs remembering their puppy speed. She led him across the yard, past the flowers now dim in the darkness, past the black sheep nestled in clean hay under their shelter. The dog blasted out into the field.
Will ran down the narrow row of corn after her. The stalks grew high overhead, blocking his view. They whispered past his ears, tearing at his arms, but he kept running. It was like a labyrinth with only one way out—forward.
Suddenly he broke through the vegetation, and the soil quickly turned to a mucky silt and sand. He stopped short. Guernsey was standing at the bay’s edge, barking.
And Gretchen was in the water.
Her white nightgown billowed around her as she waded into the still, smooth bay. The water was already at her waist.
The moon hung like a jewel in the sky, pouring light down onto the bay. It was easy for Will to see the heads—the group of faces—in an arc facing Gretchen.
His bones felt hollow, hollow as a flute, or the barrel of a gun. He was light, without weight, without power. Those faces—lovely and strange, with eyes like stars and teeth like daggers, hungry mouths—struck a primal fear in him. It rooted him to the ground, kept him captive while their voices drew Gretchen forward.
Sound filled the air, coiling like ropes around Will’s ankles, around Gretchen’s mind. The faces bobbed and watched as Gretchen slogged her way forward. One, two, they disappeared into the water, then resurfaced. Suddenly, Gretchen slipped below the surface. It was quick, as if she’d fallen into a hole—one moment she was there, a figure as white as the reflection of the moon, and the next, she was gone.
Will could only watch, helpless and immobile, as the music held him captive. Will tried to cry out, but he couldn’t find his voice. Even Guernsey grew quiet. She crouched on her belly, whimpering.
Will couldn’t be certain if their song had words. If it did, they were words he didn’t understand. Yet images flashed into his mind—clear images. A sudden flash of Tim’s face. The fear, the strange underwater scream. They were both there. A woman with hair like starlight looked at Will. She smiled, revealing small, sharp teeth. Then she tore into Tim’s neck with those teeth.…
Blood curled through the water like smoke on air.
Will struck out, and a laser of pain slashed across his face. He felt as if his cheek had split open. He prepared for the teeth to tear into his flesh, ripping it like scissors, but instead someone grabbed his arms, dragged him away, hauled him—a dead weight—back onboard the boat.
Eyes fluttering, Will saw a face leaning over him. Blue eyes, long wet pale hair hanging in thick ropes. Behind him, at the edge of the water, the sail on Tim’s boat had caught fire and blazed into the night like a vision of God. Then the image started to fade, slipping away.…
The arc of faces dipped into the water, and suddenly the music that held him went silent. The trance lifted slowly, and Will remembered where he was. He was at the edge of the bay … at the edge of the bay, where he had gone after Gretchen.…
“Gretchen!” Will shouted as he plunged forward, his thick boots chopping into the water like heavy axes.
Water churned suddenly, and Gretchen’s face appeared. She fought her way to the surface, but a hand reached out to pull her back down. She managed a single, strangled scream before she disappeared again.
He took five steps, then stopped. He didn’t know where to go. Ripples spread out in wide rings, then melted into the water, erasing evidence of their existence. The bay was smooth as glass.
“Gretchen,” Will cried, scanning the water for any sign. Any sign.
There was none.
But still he stood there, his muscles tensed, ready to fight, ready to dive in after her.
Silence.
Then, with the suddenness of a lightning bolt, the water broke open with a deafening scream. A figure blasted through the surface, blood pouring from its face. It took Will a moment to realize that the figure wasn’t Gretchen—it was one of the seekriegers. A fierce cut was lashed across her face, and blood poured into her eyes, blinding her.
The water roiled and shattered as another seekrieger blasted out. A hand reached up and caught the creature, and in the next moment Asia appeared.
“Oh my God,” Will whispered as Asia grasped the seekrieger’s hair. She twisted her neck with a jerk, and sent her back screaming into the water. Another seekrieger appeared behind Asia, but she knocked her elbow into the mermaid’s face, sending her flying backward. And then she dove.
Will held his breath.
The ripples had barely disappeared from the surface of the water when Asia, with Gretchen in her arms, leaped from the water and landed near the cornfield. Will dragged through the mud, racing to join them as Asia let Gretchen spill from her arms to the ground.
Gretchen coughed, then rolled over to vomit seawater onto the sand. Will fell to his knees beside her as she choked and sputtered, shivering in her drenched nightgown. Guernsey came over and licked Gretchen’s face. Gretchen moaned.
“She’ll be all right,” Asia said quietly.
Will stared at her. “How can you say that?”
She looked out across the bay. “They’re still waiting.”
“Who are you delivering, Asia?” Will demanded. She remained silent. “Who is it?” Will screamed.
Asia looked down at Gretchen. “The Burning One.”
“Gretchen? Are you talking about Gretchen?”
“The person you know as Gretchen, yes. She’s the one Calypso has been seeking.”
“You’re making a mistake. She isn’t—”
“Not yet, Will. But soon.”
Will threw a protective arm across Gretchen. “You’ve got the wrong person!”
Asia shook her head. “No.”
Will lunged toward her. Asia opened her mouth, and a single note fell out. It blasted against Will like a cannonball, dropping him to the ground.
Will panted, trying to regain his breath. “Why did you save her, then? If you’re just going to hand her over?”
Asia looked down at Gretchen. “I’m no executioner,” she said.
“So what are you going to do?” Will asked.
The seekrieger with the hair like silver sang out, seeming to call to Asia. Out in the bay, the seekriegers shrieked and sang. “Calypso is waiting. She’ll be paid, one way or another.”
“Just walk away,” Will urged her.
“You know that’s impossible.” Asia’s voice was melancholy, but there was no mistaking the core of steel at the center of the words.
Gretchen let out a low moan.
“What are you going to do?” Will asked.
“The only thing left,” Asia told him. Turning, she raced into the bay with a speed that almost defied his vision.
“Asia!” he shouted, but a splash, then spreading ripples were the only sign of her.
The seekriegers let out an inhuman shriek and plunged after her. Will could see nothing for a long, sickening moment. Then Asia surfaced, facing Calypso.
The sirens faced one another in silence. Finally, Calypso spoke. In a strange language, with a lilting cadence. Will didn’t understand the words, but Calypso pointed to the shore, where Gretchen lay.
Asia shook her head. “No.”
Calypso laughed. So did the other seekriegers. She looked over at Will, and her eyes narrowed.
Behind him, Gretchen stirred. “Stay down,” Will hissed.
“Where—” Gretchen looked around. Her eyes lit on the creatures in the bay.
“Don’t move.”
Calypso lashed out, slicing Asia across the face. Blood poured down her cheek—it was a cut identical to the one Will wore.
Gretchen screamed.
Calypso lunged for Asia, and the other seekriegers raced toward the shore.
“Run!” Will cried, urging Gretchen to her feet.
One of the seekriegers reached the edge of the bay, and Guernsey leaped up to meet her. The old Labrador sank her teeth into the seekrieger’s leg. The siren let out a scream, but as Guernsey leaped at her throat, the seekrieger knocked her to the ground. Guernsey lay perfectly still, blood flowing from her crushed skull.
Will and Gretchen ran, but the seekriegers were too fast. They hadn’t even reached the fields when one grabbed Will and dragged him by the legs toward the water.
“Gretchen!” Will screamed as he clawed at the sand, kicking at the seekrieger. It was worse than useless—her stre
ngth outmatched his a hundredfold.
“Will!” Gretchen shrieked as another seekrieger reached her and dragged her near the bay. Gretchen’s screams reached a fevered pitch. The seekrieger wrapped an arm around her neck. But Gretchen pulled free of the seekrieger. Turning, she delivered a punch to the stomach that knocked the creature backward ten feet.
The seekrieger stumbled for a moment, then leaped at Gretchen. But Gretchen twisted, throwing her to the ground. And when she turned to face Will, he barely recognized her. Her blue eyes burned red—completely red, with no whites. As Gretchen stalked toward them, the seekrieger holding Will shrieked, released her grip, and raced back into the water.
“Calypso!” Gretchen shouted in a voice that was not her own. It was deep and booming—like thunder. She strode into the water.
Calypso released her hold on Asia and smiled a snarling grin at Gretchen. She said something in her strange language.
“You’re too late, Calypso,” the Gretchen-creature said.
Asia’s face registered terror. “The Fury has awoken,” she said, and closed her eyes.
The seekriegers screeched and wailed. The water churned as they plunged below the surface. Gretchen strode into the water.
“No!” Will shouted. “Don’t go to them!” He reached for Gretchen, but she grabbed his hand in a searing grip. He cried out in pain. She blinked with those strange red eyes, the color of blood, and seemed to recognize him.
Gretchen released him. “Get out of the water,” she told him.
Will stumbled back as she spread her arms and plunged them into the sea. Fire spread from her hands, racing across the surface of the bay.
The seekriegers’ screams rose like steam, sounding an alarm across the bay. Will clapped his hands over his ears and sank to his knees. The screams were like knives or a bed of nails pressing against him, slicing through his skin, peeling it back.…
Will stared at Gretchen—the Burning One, Asia had called her. Suddenly he realized what must have happened the night the seekriegers came for Tim. Gretchen had been there. She must have been. Somehow she fought them off and set the sail on fire to frighten them away. Then she dragged Will to shore.…