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Fate and Revel

Page 33

by Tess Oliver

“I’m Tildy and this is my son, Worlo,” Tildy said as she handed me two cakes wrapped in paper. She patted his arm lovingly. “Don’t know what I’d do without my Worlo. And we’re very pleased to have you back in town, Raphael.”

Her last comment caught me off guard. “Thank you. It’s nice to be here.”

I nodded politely to both and turned to head back home. The shawl was warm, but the dampness gave me a chill. I strolled back and was halfway along the line of shops when a man on one of the towers yelled “Tide!” He violently rang a bell next to him and others followed suit. Shop owners came out and began to clang their bells, too.

The quietly bustling village exploded into pure pandemonium. Carts were pushed aside and people ran in every direction. They jumped onto the towers and began climbing them as if their lives depended on it. I turned one way, then the other and watched people racing toward me from both directions. Smiles and easygoing expressions had been replaced by wild-eyed terror. Someone grabbed my hand to yank me along, but I wasn’t expecting it and fell painfully onto my side. I managed to keep hold of the cakes … until a big-booted foot stepped painfully on my hand. I yelled out, but the man didn’t stop. His next step gave a final blow to the cakes. They were flattened.

I pushed to my knees and glanced back toward the sea. A turbulent black tidal wave was surging along the gulley. It was big enough to send dangerous waves up and over the shore of the gulley. A cart was caught up in the water and carried along with the violent current.

A full stampede barreled toward the nearest tower. A boot kicked me painfully in the head, and I went face down into the dirt. I pushed up on my elbows and swiped frantically at my face to clear it of debris. I squinted through the grit in my lashes. The streets were emptying, and the towers were filling up fast. Water splashed against shop windows and somewhere in the distance glass broke.

Icy cold water splashed my legs. The wave was strong enough to grab hold of me. I screamed and grabbed for anything I could but only came up with fists of dirt. I felt myself being pulled toward the gulley with the icy tide. I tried to swim against it, but it was too violent. I screamed again and flailed my arms. Bitter salty water rushed into my open mouth. I coughed and struggled to breathe. The ground fell out from under my legs. I was going over … into the gulley … to be swept away to my death.

Two big hands grabbed me by the arms. “I’ve got you.” My body was yanked out of the turbulent water, and I landed hard against a chest. In my cloud of terror, I recognized his scent. Even during our short interactions, it had been imprinted on my brain, along with the way his hands felt on me.

Revel moved me from his arms to his hands. He held me up to the base of the tower. “Climb! Now!” Water sloshed around his boots and the base of the tower. It lapped up against shops and grabbed carts and debris as it raced through town like a menacing plague.

My fingers grabbed the rough wood railings. I couldn’t find one with my foot. Revel took hold of my ankle and guided me to the railing. The thunderous roar of the deadly surge continued, and an oily, dead fish smell filled the air. The tower looked and felt far less stable up close. It might have been the dozens of people clinging to its railing and standing on each of the four platforms. The first platform was packed so I kept climbing. I glanced down and saw Revel’s blond head coming up behind me.

“Keep going, Rafi,” Revel commanded. “Next platform has some space.”

We reached the platform. There was not much room. I threw my leg over the railing and joined the others. Revel reached the platform and managed to squeeze in beside me. I had no choice except to be pressed against his side. People on the platform were frantically yelling names across to other towers and waiting for responses.

Down below, a true disaster movie was playing out. The raging black water forced its way through town, managing to pull more carts away. It looked angry and dangerous enough to sweep away the whole town, but the gulley kept it mostly in control. That question was now answered along with the reason for the lookout towers.

I figured the worst of it was over, then the clamor of agitated voices dimmed to a nervous murmur. Everyone stared down at one spot, near the end of town. The surge of water had slowed. A section of the dark surface smoothed to glass and then rippled with energy. People around us held their breath, and a few mumbled some kind of prayer. The tension in the air was so thick, it felt suffocating.

I looked up at Revel. His hazel gaze stared out at the rippling surface.

“What is that?”

“Krakatow,” he said plainly.

The rippling quickened, and I spotted a few of the creatures breaking the surface. “Fish. I see fish with black scales.” It made sense the villagers ran for towers to avoid being drowned or swept out to sea, but it seemed most of their terror came from the giant school of fish. Seconds later, the water receded, taking with it the fallen carts and other debris it managed to sweep up in its path. Rocks and long ropes of seaweed were left behind as the water rolled back out. Instead of relief at seeing the water recede, the tension only increased.

And then I spotted it. It took me a second to decide it was real. A skeleton. A man or woman’s skeleton lay at the bottom of the gulley. I reached for Revel’s arm. “Who is that?”

Right then, a woman’s voice yelled out. “Worlo! Has anyone seen my Worlo!” It was Tildy. “Please, Worlo, where are you? Shout back at mama!”

“It can’t be.” My throat was dry. “I was just talking to them.”

Two men trudged down into the gulley. Everyone on the towers held a collective breath as one of the men crouched down and took the metal anklet off the skeletal remains. “Number 113!” the man yelled.

A scream that could have shattered glass split the air. It was Tildy. I turned into Revel and buried my face against his chest. His hand pressed against my back. I clutched his shirt in my fingers and sobbed. “What kind of place have you brought me to?”

Twelve

“I’ve lost Raina’s shawl.” My words were quiet and frail. “And the cakes. She sent me for cakes.” The treacherous seawater sloshed in my boots with each step. Revel didn’t say a word, but he stayed close. “I’m in shock, aren’t I? I feel like I’m in shock.” My only experience with shock had been the day Mom died. I remembered feeling as if I’d run a hundred-mile marathon and then was run over by a train at the finish line.

We reached the bridge. Black seaweed that looked like snakes with bulbous heads and feathery tails clung to the railings and hung off the bottom of the bridge like the world’s worst Halloween decorations.

I stopped at the bridge entrance. My eyes swept down to the gulley. It looked deeper than before. Puddles of wretched water dotted the bottom. Several men were picking up the strands of seaweed. One of them yelled out and lifted the stick he’d been using to gather seaweed. He forced it down like a spear. It was then I noticed the black fish writhing on the muddy ground.

Revel stood next to me. Protective instincts rolled off him in waves. He’d saved my life, but he was also the person who’d destroyed my life. He was such a damn contradiction, and while I was determined to hate him with every fiber of my body, his presence also made every fiber of my body vibrate with energy.

I stared at the bridge ahead of me. I was that kid again, afraid to take the first step. Just moments before, horrible dreadful moments before, a raging black sea filled with deadly fish had raced under that same bridge. It made the river in Dante Fell look like a pleasant babbling brook.

Revel sensed my hesitation. He somehow always seemed to know what I was thinking. His large hand wrapped around mine. “I’ve got ya,” he said again. Those same words had been rolling through my head over and over. Hearing them again helped prod my feet forward.