Suddenly, the cut in the middle of Jill’s palm blazed in pain and she pressed her fingertips against the layers of gauze her father had used to cover the wound.
She could feel the heat of her skin through the gauze. It was like touching a light bulb.
Blood began to seep into the clean white gauze, forming a familiar shape. A red eye stared out at her from the center of her palm.
The pain lessened to a dull throb, but Jill felt clammy and nauseated. The words in her notebook blurred. The letters seemed to melt together, to slither across the page like dozens of little worms.
“Stop,” she muttered through gritted teeth.
She picked up her pen and pressed it down hard on the paper to steady her trembling hand. Her words came out slanted and spidery.
Lamia. Demon. Sea monster. Eats children. Hunts at night. Mother of Scylla.
Jill’s pen snapped in half, spewing black ink across the paper.
She rushed to the bathroom for paper towels, blotted up the ink, then sank back against her bed.
Demon. Sea monster. Eats children.
Jill had to tell Una about Lamia. She had to tell her how her hand had started hurting the moment she’d seen the creature’sname. The phone in the kitchen had a long cord, so she could stand out on the deck and close the door behind her. No one would hear what she said to Una.
However, her dad was in the kitchen, talking on the phone. Covering the mouthpiece, he whispered to Jill, “Charles is coming over. He has something for you.”
For once, Jill wasn’t repelled by the idea of seeing Charles. If she couldn’t talk to Una, she could show Charles what she’d found.
She opened the front door before he had the chance to knock.
He thrust a bakery box at her. “Mom got you butter cookies.”
“Oh. Thanks.” Jill took the box and waved him inside. “Can I show you something?”
Startled by the invitation, all Charles could do was nod.
Jill left the box of cookies on the hall table and beckoned for Charles to follow her to her room. She sat on the floor and patted the carpet the same way she would if she wanted Lady or Tramp to lie down.
“I went to the library today,” she began. “Una drove me home, and we started talking. I told her about the... you know.” She held out her index finger. “She totally believes you and she doesn’t think we’re crazy for thinking there was something out there. Something... in the water.”
She saw Charles retreat into himself. He drew his knees into his chest and stared at the books scattered across the carpet.
Jill pulled a jewelry box from under her bed and twisted the tiny key in the lock. The lid popped open, and she pointed at the scale nestled in one of the satin-lined compartments.
“Look at this.” She waited for his pale blue eyes to land on the scale. “I found it inhergarden.Thisis what it did to me.”
She unfurled her fingers and showed him her bandaged palm.
He immediately recoiled.
“I’m not contagious,” Jill snapped.
Hearing her change of tone, Charles nodded contritely. His eyes were fixed on the scale. “Can I see it?”
Jill plucked the scale out of the box and dropped it into Charles’s open hand. He poked it, pinched it, and tested the sharpness of its tip.
“What’s it from?”
Jill shook her head. “Dunno. I haven’t found an exact match. The closest was a scale for a fish called a gar. It has teeth and eats other fish.” She waved at the books. “I’ve been looking for stories about sea creatures. Not sharks, but other things. Things with teeth.”
Charles pulled one of the books closer to him. He stared at the illustration of Scylla for a long moment, his gaze tracing the serpentine lines of her tail.
