Shelley snuffled to herself, then said, "What?"
"You're going to be a heroine, just like in the stories. You, Shelley Hopkins, your name will go down in history. It'll be recorded in the museums and the archives and passed down from generation to generation."
It came to me then, where I had seen him. He was the rain-soaked figure in the museum. He had come in as I left, and held the door open for me. What had the museum curator said? "Back again, Ted?"
He stepped forward and she cowered back, but he grabbed the front of her clothes and almost dragged her to her feet. He stood her up and then straightened her clothes while she stood and shivered in the night air.
"It's all in the archives, if you've a mind to look. This isn't the first time we've had it tough and it won't be the last. Ravensby's special. We all know it that lives here. We feel it in our bones, we know it when we breathe the air. The town has survived far worse."
"Can I go back now?" Shelley's voice sounded very small.
"Back? Of course you can go back. This is why we brought you here, so that you can see the town, so you know why it's important."
He stepped up to her and turned her shoulders to face the shore.
"There, lass. That's what you've come for." He pointed towards the thin strip of lights dancing and winking at the horizon's edge.
"I want to go home," she said with a sniff.
"Then go. We won't stop you."
She looked back at him. "You have to take me back."
"Me? No, lass. You don't need me. You are the sea's chosen, the bride of the deep, the Sea Queen of Ravensby. You could walk back if you had a mind to."
"Walk?" The word hung in the air. She flicked her eyes to the shore and back to his face. "We're a mile out. It's deep water."
"Not for you. You're pure. You are the maiden of the deep."
"Yeah," said one of the two younger men. "That's where the others went wrong."
There was a pause. She said in a small voice, "What others?"
He took her by the shoulders and turned her so that no matter how she twisted she was facing the shore.
"Look, girl. Look!"
"The others weren't worthy, were they, Jake?" said the other younger man.
Jake shook his head. "Tonight is special. Ted, Freddy and me have waited all year for this. It's the solstice – the longest day, shortest night. If it can be done, it'll be done now."
"Of course it can be done." said Ted. "This is what the records tell us. When the town is at the nadir, when all is lost, the sun will find the zenith and the dark of the moon will shine upon the chosen. Do you see a moon, girl? Do ya?"
Shelley wasn't looking for the moon. She was shaking her head and saying, "No, no, no," over and over again.
"The dark of the moon. You hear? The spirit of the sea shall rise and claim his bride, taking her to him for life and love, so that the town may thrive once more. A maiden shall walk among them, a queen, crowned of the deep, and she shall live long and happy and have many children to follow in his line. Thus the town is reborn. There, d'ya see? You can't fail."
Shelley shook her head. "You're mad. You're fucking mental, all of you."
Ted answered her. "No lass. We're sane. We're the only ones with the guts to do it. The rest of them are spineless, gutless, feckless. They'd rather stand and watch the town die than do something about it. Well, we're doing something. We found the cure. It's not far. You'll be home in time for supper. All you have to do is step over." He steered her by the shoulders to a gap in the rail opened up by Jake in front of her.
It was time to intervene. I knew what had happened to Gillian and Trudy. I knew what they'd done to them. I knew why I would never find them. I was unarmed but for what I had to do I didn't need weapons. I thought of Gillian's photo, her hair framing her head like a halo. I thought about what they had made her do and it was all I could do to control the anger that boiled up inside of me. I wanted revenge, and I wanted Gillian to share it.
It's not that hard, once you have the knack of it. Glamour is like a comfortable skin. Gillian was not as tall as me, nor as well built, but my anger fuelled the change and I did not find it hard. I only had the one photo, but after weeks in the water it didn't have to be accurate.
I visualised the unconscious grace. I took the image captured by the flash of a camera. I held that image close and embraced it, drawing it to me. To that I added the sallow pallor of death and the blue-lipped pout of a bloated corpse. I tangled sea-weed in her hair and made her clothes ripped and ragged. I left the water dripping from her, fresh from the deep. The Gillian I made was beyond life, beyond hope.
The men were intent on the girl, backs to me so that my climbing down to the deck would have gone unnoticed even had I not been cloaked in magic. Only when I stood behind them did I drop the concealment and reveal myself. The voice I imagined was soft, cracked by salt, hoarse from the water.
"Leave her alone."
The words were softly spoken, but they came from where no one should be standing. They all turned, snapping around at the sound.
The closest made the connection first.
"You. It can't be. We drowned you." He pointed, but his finger shook.
"I came back. Let her be." The voice was a hushed whisper, a sibilant accusation.
Shelley's face was frozen in a rictus of absolute horror. She put her hand up to her mouth and bit into her finger to stifle the scream.
"You did wrong," I whispered to the men. "Let her go."
Shelley did the one thing I did not expect.
TWENTY-ONE
She pulled away and jumped into the water.
They must have seen the change in expression as surprise and shock crossed my face when Shelley jumped. It changed the mood in an instant. Freddy, the one who'd said the others weren't worthy, pulled at his belt. A wickedly long blade emerged. "'Bout time you went back where you came from," he said.
He leapt forward, driving the blade upwards into my stomach in a gutting stroke. My training kicked in, and I swivelled sideways from the blade and caught the wrist, twisting it so that he gasped with pain. There was no time for finesse. In the water, even in the middle of summer, Shelley would not last long. The well of power within me opened and I felt my muscles flood with heat. I flicked my wrist and felt the bones torsion, then snap.
"Aieeee!"
The knife rattled to the floor.
Using his broken forearm to turn him to me, I pivoted and hit him hard with the flat of my hand under the chin. His head snapped up and he catapulted backwards. Catching the rail with the back of his legs, he tumbled over into the water. There was a splash and his scream was silenced as he went under.
As fast as he vanished, Jake and Ted moved either side of me, Ted wielding a heavy crowbar and Jake holding a long wooden-handled pole with a steel hook at one end. Jake moved first, making the mistake of trying to swing the pole at me rather then using it to thrust. I stepped inside the swing, twisting around and turning him so it put him between me and Ted's crowbar. I punched the shaft of the pole back into his throat. There was a crunching noise and he gagged and coughed. His hands went slack on the pole and I used his momentum to swing him around so that he crashed sideways into the rail. A shove with my shoulder and he joined Freddy in the water.
I half saw the blur as the crowbar swung down at my head. Twisting sideways, I felt the air shiver against my cheek as it flew past my face, slamming with a loud clang into the rail where I had been a moment before. Ted was so close his spittle spattered my face as he roared in animal rage. He dropped the crowbar and grasped at my throat, forcing me back on to the rail. I grabbed his wrists, his arm muscles bunching under my hands as he tried to close his grip on my windpipe and thrust me over the rail.