“Well, Lysi lures it away from the dead deer with a couple of live salmon. While it’s running after her, I pull myself up the beach and grab the deer.”
We dragged the other end of the net over to a second boulder.
“The thing’s faster than we anticipated. Lysi chucks the salmon and gets into the water before it catches her—but man, it’s close. Then, of course, the bear turns and sees me with his deer.”
We pulled it tautbetween the two rocks.I wanted to say something about creating the world’s largest volleyball net, but Spio wouldn’t know what I was talking about.
He surveyed our work with his hands on his hips. “It looks like that game humans like to play. You know?”
My lips pulled into an involuntary smile.
“Anyway,” said Spio. “We were nearly eaten by the bear in the process. But you know what? That deer was the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my life.”
We stared at each other for a minute. My heart beat frantically. Spio clapped me on the shoulder.
“You got this, whale whisperer.”
Without waiting for a ceremonious goodbye, he took off. I stared after him until he became a pulse on the current. Then I dove.
I swam hard towards the island until a steep cliff rose in front of me. Atop the cliff, the floor sloped up to the beach.
I wedged into a crevice, reminding myself of the reef fish I’d seen the first time Lysi had shown me coral. I waited, perfectly still, letting my body sway with the surrounding weeds. I felt detached from my body, its movements oddly vacant and methodical. I forced myself to stay in that frame of mind, afraid I would panic if I contemplated what I was about to do.
The plants around me crackled gently. I focused on each note, the way I used to do with leaves moving in the breeze.
The earth gave a shudder. There was a pull in the tide. I pushed my hands against the rocks to hold myself in place.
I squinted upwards, every sense jostled by the rushing current.
Two small figures shot past—Lysi, long hair flying, and Spio, lean and lanky. The serpent followed them with its jaws open. A blast of bubbles shot from her nostrils, clear and blue but reminding me of a dragon breathing fire.
Her body, as thick as a ship, seemed to go on for ages. Darkness fell as she blocked the light.
I didn’t dare move.
Finally, the second head passed.
I pulled myself from the crevice and shot upwards, taking care not to expose myself in the open. I couldn’t let the serpent feel my presence or else their decoy would have been a waste.
I crested the cliff and followed the sloping floor to the beach, moving cautiously over the sand. When I could climb no further, I let the top of my face break the surface.
A shipwreck crumbled on the beach, rusted over and broken into shards. Its size and ghostly presence paralyzed me.
Keeping my body below the surface, I scanned the mess of driftwood and seaweed strewn across the beach. Adaro was nowhere to be seen.
I chewed my lip. What if he had pulled himself into the forest?
No. For someone who hated land as much as Adaro did, he would have stuck close to the shoreline. Besides, the island could have bears, like Spio had talked about, or even people. It would be dangerous to wander, especially in a weakened condition. He had to be nearby.
Below the surface, a burst of energy ricocheted through the water and shot up my tail. Had the serpent collided with the net? The activity hit my senses with such force I wondered if we had underestimated her size. She could snap the rope or easily move the boulders. Still, she would have to untangle herself.
I ran a reassuring hand over the crossbow at my back and pulled myself from the water. My tail scraped over the rocks, the sound rising above the hissing waves.
Far behind me, flames roared around the sinking ship. The helicopter thrummed as it rescued the crew trapped aboard. I crawled across the shore, stopping periodically to listen for sounds over the distant explosions like a cautious deer in the woods.
Daylight peeked through the shipwreck where rust had eaten into the hull. The sting of iron blew towards me on the wind. Though the ship was upright, it sagged heavily in the middle as if a fire or explosion had brought its life to an end.
A fierce ache in my lower back made me think of Lysi’s scar. It must have hurt every time she was near iron, yet she hadn’t once mentioned the pain during the time we spent at Kori Maru. My heart squeezed for her.
