Across Carina (19 page)

I held my breath and waited for Artemis to strike, wondering how it would play out this time.

A gong sounded, then, ringing heavy and low. It rang once. It rang again. It rang through the forest and across the sand. It slipped into the water and shook our cores.

There were several cries in reply to the gong. A horde of people were running toward the beach. Their footsteps pounded into thunder. It would not be long before we were found.

We took advantage of the distraction. Sal lifted me into the boat and laid me on my back. Something hard scraped me, but I didn’t move or ask what it was.

Sal pulled the boat behind him until he was neck-deep in the water. Then he started to climb in beside me. I shifted my weight so that we wouldn’t tip over, but we wobbled nonetheless.

Sal grabbed the hard thing, and I saw that it was a stick. It was a long stick he must have taken from the forest. He held it over the side of the boat and used it to push us through the water. It wasn’t nearly as effective as a paddle, but it would have to do. We had one shot to escape Getheos.

Behind us, a wall of men burst through the trees. They charged the shore, their screams and swords flying high. The archers appeared perpendicular to them and began to launch their arrows.

Sal and I ducked low in the boat. We couldn’t risk being seen. It seemed that we would have to wait—long enough to be forgotten.

The boat drifted, ever so slowly, and the battle carried on. But when we felt that it was safe, Sal sat up and paddled us away.

Between Sal’s strokes, the sun rose and cast its golden rays upon the beach. The fire blended with the orange of morning and lost its menacing glow. We forgot the battle and sailed through the stillness of the water and our thoughts. It was a much needed rest, but it was short-lived.

“I’ve lost the map,” Sal said.

I stared at him. “What?”

“It’s gone,” he said. “I don’t know what happened. We were running . . . it was dark . . .”

“Are you kidding me?” I asked.

“No,” he said, “and I have no idea how close we are to The Edge right now.”

“Well what are we supposed to do?” I demanded. “We could fall off the planet in two seconds! We
have
to find Eris.”

“No. If The Edge were near, then we’d see it, and all I see right now is water. Getheos is flat, remember?”

“I don’t care if it’s a square! I don’t trust this planet—or my own eyes, for that matter. Not with the gods lurking. We should at least try calling to Eris. Maybe she’ll hear us this time.”

“It’s too late for that. We need to summon a driver. Eris probably isn’t even here.”

“I bet she
is
here. She likes drama and war—do
you
remember?”

I pointed to the thinning shoreline, but Sal didn’t respond.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll summon a driver.”

I felt smart knowing how to do something that he didn’t. Sure, it made sense that he knew more than I did about the planet he’d lived on for four years, but his know-it-all attitude didn’t annoy me any less. I wondered if he was just nervous about leaving Getheos. Chaotic as it was, it had become his home.

I was about to summon a driver when Sal dropped his stick on the floor of the boat and leaned forward. We were sitting across from each other. He had been paddling and scouring the waters ahead, and I had been watching for anyone behind us. However, at the sight of Sal, I turned around.

A hundred yards ahead, a vast whirlpool was spinning counterclockwise. In its center was a black hole that seemed to plunge into the earth. Fish, bottles, and the remnants of a boat had already been sucked into the orbit. One by one, we watched them vanish into the hole.

Sal tried to steer us away from the whirlpool, but for every foot that he paddled, we were pulled back three feet. I leaned over the side of the boat and helped him paddle with my arms, but even together our labors were useless. Our stretched and tired veins were no match for the whirlpool.

A pointed fin broke the water’s surface, and Sal and I screamed, knocking into each other. Our boat tipped to the right, and we both shifted left to stay balanced. Then our boat tipped to the left, and we both shifted right.

“Pick a side!” I ordered.

Within seconds we had drifted dangerously close to the whirlpool.

The fin disappeared, and Sal returned to his paddling, but it was too late. The current pulled the stick right out of his hands. Our boat jerked suddenly as it was towed into orbit.

I cowered against Sal. All the spinning made me crazy. Once again, I felt like I was lifting off.

“There’s no way out of this,” I said.

“Stop it. We’re going to be fine.”

I didn’t believe him. He just wanted me to die hopeful.

I buried my face in his chest as wind howled in our ears. We clung to the sides of our boat and spiraled toward the black hole.

“Just close your eyes,” Sal said.

I agreed that I didn’t want to see. Nor did I want to feel. My only hope was that the black hole brought instant death instead of sucking us into some endless abyss.

Eris, if you’re here, please help us. I know that you don’t know us, but we’re on your side. Trust me. I know how it feels to be an outcast, to wonder if anyone understands you. If you help us out of this, we will repay you however you like. Please. We just want to go home.

Sal held me close. “I’m really glad I met you.”

The ocean began to rumble beneath us, and like masochists we turned to look. To our surprise, our boat had slowed down. Although the current we rode held steady and swift, we weren’t keeping pace. We were drifting in complete defiance of physics.

“What in the world?” I asked.

I looked for the shoreline, but it was gone. Either we had teleported to our current location or the smoke from the battle had clouded the beach. I hadn’t a clue. All I knew was that we were completely alone.

The rumbling grew louder, and water began to jump up from the surface in little beads. I felt like our boat was hovering, but I couldn’t tell if we were actually floating or just reacting to the vibrations. Sal moved in a circle, looking for the answer. I kept my eyes on the hungry black hole, which was expanding in our direction.

The rumbling climaxed, and a fountain surged through the black hole, eliminating the whirlpool. Sal was knocked down, and our boat came to a halt.

Sal returned to me, and we held each other in anticipation. Though I barely felt him. The center of my brain had detached and risen into the air. I was looking down, watching my terrified self—so small from up above.

The fountain sprayed all around and into the sky, which was stained with fresh clouds. Our boat started to fill with water and sink. We were sitting down, covered past our ankles now. Sal tried to dump out the water with his hands, but in my mental distance, I hardly reacted.

I was also listening to something moving through the ocean. A laurel green glow had appeared at the base of the fountain, and I knew that we were no longer alone.

I screamed as a trident ruptured the fountain. I almost fell out of the boat. Sal caught me, and we watched as a giant rose with the trident in hand. He towered over us.

He looked part man, part spirit, and part ocean creature. He was statuesque, his body gray and hard, but a green glimmer shone off him like discolored sunlight. He had short curly hair and a seaweed beard. His shoulders were broad and his chest bare, but I couldn’t see if he had legs or a tail. His lower half was under water.

“Poseidon,” Sal whispered.

“Do we like him?” I asked.

“The question is if he likes us.”

“Hmm,” Poseidon boomed.

He was looking down at us. Us in our measly boat.

The fountain subsided, and he pushed through the water toward us. Each of his steps sent fifteen-foot waves rolling over our boat. Sal and I were knocked on our backs and submerged.

We sat up, coughing and sputtering into more water. Our boat had sunk halfway below the surface, but it was still upright. I imagined Poseidon had words for us.

“Where do you two think you’re going?” he bellowed.

Our boat rattled in reply. Poseidon’s voice alone could have killed us.

He lowered his trident and began to tease us with its gleaming prongs. Sal and I tried to dance around them, but we were fools in a game of chance. The prongs kept jabbing our backs and knotting our hair.

At one point I turned around and the trident was inches from my face. I froze, and then I went cross-eyed trying to focus on the tip of the center prong. It was gold and sharp, pointed like an arrow.

“Well?” Poseidon demanded.

He pushed the trident closer, letting that center prong rest on the skin between my eyes.

Neither Sal nor I spoke. I was still focused on the prong. But in my peripheral vision I could see Sal watching me. His mouth hung open as a thin stream of blood dripped down and off my nose.

Finally, Poseidon pulled back his trident. I began to breathe a sigh of relief, but it was cut short as he took another step toward us. A wave crashed over our boat, and we dropped deeper into the ocean. We were covered up to our chests. I choked on more water, watching our bags float away.

“Please!” I begged.

“Don’t plead with me!” Poseidon shouted. “You don’t deserve my pity! There’s a war going on, and you two are attempting to flee, like cowards!”

“This isn’t our home!” I cried. “Please forgive us! We’re just trying to go home!”

“Then you shouldn’t have come here in the first place!” he roared.

He dipped his trident into the water and began tracing wide semicircles—one after the next. They pulled together in a series, forming a current outlined in gold.

“But go home you shall . . .” he said.

The current pushed us away from him. It seemed that he was letting us go. But even as we drifted, he remained the same size. It was as if we weren’t moving at all. Only the water, sparkling in curves, assured me that we were.

We went back to emptying the boat, hoping for success this time. I tried to ignore Poseidon’s cold gaze as I cupped the water into my hands. I thought about all of Sal’s warnings to me, and I realized that he had been right. Getheos was absent of reason, and I wanted to leave more than ever.

When I looked up again, Poseidon was still standing where the black hole had been. But I realized he wasn’t just standing. His beard—it was untangling. It was stretching toward us in seaweed limbs, in an aerial across the ocean.

I clenched my jaw.

“Why won’t he make up his mind?” I asked.

Sal dropped his last handful of water back into the ocean and looked up.

Poseidon’s beard had lengthened halfway to us. It was snaking through the air, darting around waves. It reminded me of the lightning that had chased me on The Mango Sun, but I quickly shook the memory away.

The beard stopped just outside our boat. It morphed into a hand and knocked on the air at our eye level. I reached for it, but it backed away. Then, with its thumb and middle finger, it flicked our boat, and we went racing through the waters.

“Summon a driver!” Sal cried.

I hadn’t time to summon a driver. Poseidon’s beard had already returned to him, and he was spinning into another whirlpool. Once again we were laden with water, and the wind pressed on.

I cupped my hands and tried to offset the waves. Sal said that we should make a sail. He tore off his shirt in desperation, but I pointed out that we had no staff. He didn’t care. He spread out his shirt and held it high.

He didn’t last a minute. Water sprayed him from above and below, and the wind was too strong to bear. He fell down, and with him his sail.

A second later he was back on his feet, breathing hard. His cheeks were a pink canvas of sweat. His eyes were hazel—not a speck of gold. I had never seen him so panicked.

We almost tipped over several times before realizing that we were only making things worse. I wondered if we should just stop—stop trying. There was clearly nothing we could do.

Except float. Yes, we could float, there in the confines of our wooden walls, waiting out the storm. Maybe fate would favor us.

That’s what I suggested to Sal. He was too tired to fight me on it, and I was too tired for anything else.

Eventually the waves calmed, and the air became clear. Poseidon, of course, was nowhere in sight. He had wreaked his havoc on us and fled.

Who’s really the coward?

I tried not to dwell on it too much. We were free—and rising again as our boat drained of water.

Goose bumps teemed on my arms. I shivered against Sal’s chest, even though he was probably colder than me. His shirt was in a sopping ball at our feet.

“He might come back,” Sal said. His teeth were chattering. “Please, summon a driver.”

I sighed. I felt so stupid. I had forgotten about the drivers. Poseidon certainly hadn’t helped me keep my focus.

I pulled at the corners of my mind. I had the feeling that that wasn’t all that I had forgotten. I stared through the waters ahead, trying to bring it all back.

“What is it?” Sal asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “But something’s not right.”

I pointed at the water. It was all rushing in the same direction.

“Why is it doing that?” I asked. “I thought Poseidon was gone.”

Although I couldn’t see very far in the distance, I could hear something. I closed my eyes and listened. There was a pouring—like a waterfall.

Sal studied the horizon.

“Are you a good swimmer?” he asked.

I didn’t answer. We sailed forward, nearing the great sound. As we got closer, the ocean appeared to just . . . drop off.

“The Edge,” Sal confirmed.

“No. No. It can’t be,” I said. “Make it stop, Sal. Please make it stop.”

“Jade, I can’t do anything! If we abandon the boat, then we’ll drown! We’re too far from land.”

“Why did Poseidon even let us go? Why did he say we were going home? He
knew
that this would happen! Why not kill us back there?”

“He was messing with us,” Sal said. “Sending mixed signals. And it worked. It threw us off so that we wouldn’t think to call for help, and now we’re about to suffer the
worst
fate possible on Getheos. Much worse than a whirlpool.”