Fathom (13 page)

But she was still beautiful.

Her eyes caught mine and for a moment I could see how alike we were. I could imagine her raiding her own grandmother’s room, wanting to know the secrets of the universe. I could almost imagine her fighting off a band of sea creatures back in Kenmare Bay, although I’m sure she would have fared much better than I had.

She would have won.

Her eyes settled on my throat and my fingers followed her gaze. For a moment, fear laced through my chest and I wondered if I had gills, if I was changing back again. But that wasn’t what she was looking at.

“You’re not wearing your cross, young lady.” She frowned.

“It burned my skin. I—I got a rash and took it off,” I stammered.

She shook her head. “Give it to me. I can put something on it to fix that.” She held out her hand.

Sweat beaded on my forehead. “I think—I must have left it over at Brianna’s. It was in my purse and I—I forgot it when—”

Gram cursed, then brushed past me, headed down the hallway to her room. I could hear her in there, opening drawers and slamming them, cursing the whole time in Gaelic. Sometimes I wished I knew what she was saying, but this wasn’t one of those times. Finally she came back, dangled another necklace between bony fingers. It looked almost exactly like the one she had given me for my birthday.

“Put this on. Now,” she commanded.

I did.

“And don’t take it off, understand?”

I nodded. Mute. She’d stolen all of my words.

“Even when you go swimming. And let me know if it burns, I can put something on it. That can be fixed, but there’s other things that can’t be fixed. You listening to me, child?” She shook her finger at me. “That cross can protect you from things too awful to even talk about. I don’t want to hear no whining about a rash either. I’ll give you a rash on your backside if I catch you taking that off again.”

Then she walked back to her room, mumbling to herself. Something about how ungrateful young people were nowadays and what it was like back home. When she reached the door, she paused, glanced back at me.

Her face had softened and I could see the love in her eyes.

“My own mother gave me that cross. Don’t you lose it now.”

“I won’t, Gram.” The power of speech had returned, miraculously. “I promise.”

“Now, be a lamb and go finish dinner. I’m taking a nap.”

“Yes, Gram,” I said, but she’d already closed her door.

•

Dinner was over, dishes were put away and my servitude was finished for the evening. The scent of hawthorn stole into the house, stronger than usual. Dad had made boughs for all the windows from the branches he’d trimmed today. Sometimes it felt festive when he did that, almost like Christmas in the middle of summer, but ever since last night, there’d been an ominous presence in our house. Almost as if both Gram and Dad knew what had really happened to me.

Apparently being attacked by sea creatures was the elephant in the middle of the room here.

“I picked up some movies today,” Dad said as I got myself a can of Coke. He stood in the living room doorway, his head almost touching the lintel. Sometimes our house seemed too small for him. I was sure that Mom had picked it out, although I could never understand why she wanted to live so close to the ocean when she couldn’t swim. Maybe she had given in to her own destiny. Hopefully I wouldn’t give up that easily.

“Let me guess,” I said. “
Die Hard
and
Lethal Weapon
.”

He grinned. “No, I bought you that
Twilight
series you’ve been wanting.”

“Really?” So I got rewarded for getting arrested?

I wondered if he could read the expression in my eyes.

“I’m just glad—” He paused for a long moment. “—that nothing happened to you last night. Drinking and swimming don’t mix.”

“I know.” I hadn’t been able to hide the fact that I’d been swimming, since both my hair and clothes had been wet. And I’d barely been able to walk straight, so everybody—my classmates, the cops and my family—figured out that I was either drunk or high. I should have just said no when Riley had asked me to go down to the beach. But there had been something almost magical about the ocean last night, like it was calling me. The waves and the moonlight, even the company of the other girls had all felt right. At first. Until they attacked me.

Is that what destiny was like? Did it seduce you to do things you normally wouldn’t?

“If anything like that ever happens again,” Dad said, “you know, if anyone ever spikes your drink or if any guy gets pushy—”

“No guys got pushy last night.”

“Call me, okay?”

“That would be a lot easier if I had a cell phone,” I snipped. I hadn’t meant to get bratty all of a sudden. It just slipped out and I regretted it almost immediately. I’d been after him for a phone since I was twelve, so I expected him to roll his eyes and give me another “we can’t afford a second cell phone” lecture.

Instead he pulled something out of his jacket pocket. It sparkled, bright silver in the kitchen light.

An iPhone.

My eyes met his and I knew instantly that he’d made a sacrifice to pay for this. Most likely he’d cancelled his gym membership.

“Dad, you didn’t have to—”

“Yes, I did. You should have had one these years ago. Your mom would have—” He paused and for a moment it felt like she was here in the room with us. His voice lowered to just above a whisper. “—she would have made sure you had whatever you needed. No matter what it cost.” He gave me a half-smile and more than anything I wanted to throw my arms around his neck and tell him I never really wanted a phone. I’d just wanted to be like all the other teenagers in Crescent Moon Bay.

 “You’re still grounded though,” he said. “You can’t have it until Monday morning.”

My throat tightened and I wasn’t sure what to do, so I said the first thing that came into my head. “Does that mean I can’t watch
Twilight
either?”

“You can watch it on one condition.” He slid my cell phone back in his pocket. “Make us some popcorn first. And grab me a Coke when you bring it out.”

“Deal,” I said. But I wrapped him in a bear hug first, then I stood up and kissed him on the cheek. 

Caleb:

The winds lashed the beach, throwing sand at us like tiny slivers of glass. We’d just completed the first part of the Burning—the duine daonna, where our familiar introduced us to the local humans—and now the second part of the ritual—the faigh muin or the mating ceremony—loomed ahead of us. Some of the young people from the nearby underwater cities of Baile na Bhur and Dunpatrick would be joining us on the beach soon. In preparation, we’d all been swimming for hours, our pheromones sending the call. My muscles quivered and snapped as the seas came alive with a host of other Selkies.

My sister led the way back to the shore, a large crowd following behind her.

A broad-shouldered young man from Baile na Bhur laughed when he left the ocean, one arm around Riley. She tossed her head with a grin, her smile turning cold when she saw me. I’d been avoiding her ever since the party last night, when our world had erupted in a volcano of flashing lights and men in blue uniforms. What she did last night to Kira was unforgivable.

Nobody should be turned like that. Ever.

It was barbaric.

My sister glanced at me then, a solemn expression in her eyes as she wrung the water from her hair. The Burning ran through us all like a river of fire tonight, but I could tell that she wanted no part of it. She turned away from the two suitors that flanked her and jogged up the stairs to the house.

The breeze calmed then and the heat grew even stronger, scorching my skin, making my blood race through my veins.

Mare sidled up next to me, smiling, her skin glowing pale green in the moonlight. Her pheromones were strong and her skin hot as she put an arm around my waist. I didn’t have the strength to fight these urges any more. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close, my lips finding the hollow of her neck and then sliding up slowly, hungrily, until our lips met. She tasted of salt and fire, her skin smoked when it collided with mine, sparks dancing in the air around us. The others embraced in pairs, tumbling and laughing on the sand. There was no conversation, no affection, nothing but the Burning, consuming us all.

But this wasn’t what I wanted. Not here, not now.

Somehow, I managed to untangle my arms from hers, refusing to acknowledge the question on her upturned face.

I pulled away, my arms cold from her absence, then I turned and ran toward the surf, feet pounding sand, arms embracing the ocean. My mother, the sea, accepted me, sustained me, gave me strength even though I was weary and confused. I swam, arms beating the surface of the ocean, not sure where I was going until at last my feet hit the sandy bottom on another beach.

I had reached the shoal beneath Kira’s house.

And now she was all I could think about.

I needed to be near her.

The lights in the house were low and the humans quiet. A longing rushed through my chest as I climbed the steps to the cliff, then crawled over the white picket fence. Once inside the yard, I was a shadow, careful not to get too close to the trees or the thorny bushes. Hawthorn bled over every window and door lintel and its presence made me glad.

The air rippled around me, warm and humid, carrying the scent of jasmine. But I was looking for another fragrance: the stench of seaweed and barnacles and rubbery flesh. I knew the Hinquememem was somewhere nearby, for I’d smelled it down on the beach tonight.

That monstrous beast had come hunting Selkies who had been on land too long, and any one of us could be its next target.

Up until last night, Kira had been safe.

But now that she’d turned, the beast would surely come looking for her. She’d been on land longer than any of us—all of her life, in fact. She had disobeyed the Law of the Sea—those born of the Sea must return, or pay the price.

And the Hinquememem, a creature of nightmares, was just the beast to exact that penalty.

So I crouched in the shroud of darkness, hidden behind the bushes, my breath coming in small gulps as I sifted through the thick odor of hawthorn bark and leaves. I would watch and wait until morning, for the beast did not travel on land during daylight. With a great reluctance, I huddled alone on a night when the rest of my kind were giving in to the Burning.

Kira:

The sun set and a lavender sky deepened until, far away on the distant horizon, the first stars glittered over the Pacific. Then a breeze picked up, rattling the branches that hung over every window. Like claws, they scratched across the glass. Meanwhile, the wind settled into a low soft moan as it circled the house, murmuring through the trees. During the day, my yard felt welcome, all the boundaries well-marked and safe. At night, this changed. When the skies blackened, the edges of my world blurred and I always wondered what lurked outside, what shapes were shifting between cliff and canyon. And could one of them be watching me, now?

I paused before one of the windows, startled when I saw my own reflection staring back at me.

Dad turned off the DVD player. Bella, Edward and Jacob retreated into memory, none of them real anymore. Gram had fallen asleep in her chair, her basket of knitting on the floor, and I fetched a blanket, tucked it around her carefully. I’d learned long ago to let her sleep wherever she wants. Dad stretched, revealing scratches on his arms, battle wounds from trimming the hawthorn.

“I’m going to take a shower and go to bed,” he said with a yawn.

Perfect. I nodded good night. Straightened up the living room, put away our popcorn bowls and picked up the empty soda cans.

Then I burrowed in my room, door closed, Gram’s books open on my bed, a notebook and pen ready to take notes. I had several schoolbooks spread out too, just in case Gram or Dad walked in. I flipped through the pages, looking for anything about Selkies or Roanes or mermaids, specifically any magic spells that could turn humans. So far, all I’d found were a few obscure references to mermaids who could grant wishes under duress. That wasn’t even close to what had happened last night. Then I stumbled upon an entire chapter devoted to the Na Fir Ghorm, those creatures Gram had been telling stories about at dinner last night.

I flipped through the pages quickly until I finally came to a section that contained a drawing of a Selkie. It wasn’t quite right, but it was close enough. I read the caption below the drawing out loud, “According to legend, they usually shift into seals when they’re not human. Other folklore claims that when in their true shape, they’re covered with tiny green scales and their eyes glow in the dark—”

I sat up, chewed the tip of my pen. Now that was more like it.

Unfortunately, the text then went on about some other unknown creature that hunted and killed Selkies. I thumbed through the pages in that chapter, but there was no more information about Selkies or Roanes. With a heavy sigh, I realized that I might actually have to read all three of these books from cover to cover before I found anything useful. No wonder Gram spent hours pouring over these things.

I scanned several more pages, hoping to find more information when I stumbled upon an old wood engraving. It was an exact replica of my Celtic cross necklace. I could even see the wood grain carefully etched into the ink illustration.

“…Must be made from hawthorn wood, harvested during a full moon and left to age for a full year for the talisman to work. Other forms of protection include freshly cut boughs of hawthorn hung over windows and doors—”

Outside my room, the wind sighed and teased the branches, dragging them across the window. Scritch, scratch, ssssscrrraatccchhh. An unnerving sound. I’d never asked Gram or Dad what the branches were supposed to do. I don’t think I wanted to know.

Now I wondered if they were supposed to protect us from Selkies that wanted to drag us off into the water and steal our humanity.