I didn’t know what to do. Jagger had said to side with whoever fought against Finn. That was Jacob.
But who were the conjurers in the boat, and what were they doing?
Jacob asked what I was thinking. “Who are they?”
I shook my head. “Did they”—I nodded to Finn and Darin—“kill your . . . our . . . Philoneas?”
He nodded.
My blood went hot and brimmed with poisonous fire.
“Are they trying to kill you?”
“Maybe,” he said, which I took as a yes.
“How long do you think you can hold this wave back?”
Jacob narrowed his eyes. “Five minutes. Maybe six.”
Not long.
“Do you think the Smiths could disperse it?”
Jacob nodded.
That was all I needed to hear. “Don’t let the boatmen hit me,” I said.
Jacob grabbed for my hand. Held me before I kicked the grotesque clear. “I’m glad you’re all right.”
I smiled right as a sea monster crashed toward us. I dodged, kicking the grotesque into flight.
The monster was made of water. It was black, swirling, a giant, roaring prehistoric monster. A mosasaur. One of the titans of the sea that had ruled the primordial oceans.
Its water jaws snapped, and it flung itself at the wave.
The grotesque dodged. Jacob was flung into the air, rolling on the water, but then, somehow, he landed on a bed of air. He floated back down to stand on top of his wave.
The water creature swung around, smacking its tale against the tsunami.
The mosasaur was a monster of knots. It snaked through the churning waves and bashed at the column with its tale. While it was attacking, it was also dispersing. With each violent crash of its tale, the wave broke and fell another few inches.
I don’t know if the boatmen were attacking Jacob or the wave. Since my brother seemed happy standing on the churning tower of water, tossing lightning, I left the mosasaur to its rampage.
I flew through the howling wind and the roar of water and braved the man on the tower.
Darin ignored me, throwing fire lance after fire lance at Jacob. There was death in his eyes. He wanted Jacob dead, and nothing, not even a giant water mosasaur or a tsunami threatening the city, was going to distract him.
But Finn watched me with singular intensity.
The potency of his stare filled me and nearly swept away the burning acid that ran through my veins.
I wanted . . .
Even having locked everything of him away, I still wanted him.
The grotesque swooped close to the rusted metal railing of the lighthouse tower. It banked and then crashed into the concrete ledge. Its claws dug into the concrete, cracking and breaking as it skidded to a stop a foot from Finn.
He didn’t step back. He didn’t even flinch.
