me, wasn’t it? To push all of my doubts out of my head. Doubts gets me
killed.
The Naga lands in the empty space I just occupied.
“Sorry, beastie-but I need your head.” I don’t sound as confident
as I would’ve liked.
I jump on her back, grabbing the rough ridges of her neck like
reins. I dig my knees into her furry flanks and raise my dagger over
her head.
But the Naga lurches and throws me off, and I fall hard on my
side. A hot, burning sensation hits my side where something feels
broken. My dagger is gone. Panic shoots through me as the Naga breaks
into a sprint. No matter how many walls I’ve climbed, how many
pull-ups I’ve done, watching this thing run at me still freezes my
joints. It’s massive, with a mouth open to swallow me. But it’s the
thing that stands between the Sleeping Giants and me, so I push myself
to move.
The Naga lands to my side, talons digging into the rock. I see
something glint behind her. My dagger! I take a stone the size of a
football and slam it into her face. She whimpers and covers her eyes.
The dragon-bird swoops down as I run for my weapon. It draws blood
from my forearm. I slide on the ground and take my dagger. The Naga
shakes her head, a rumble stirring deep inside her belly. She’s
pissed.
Know what? So am I.
I roll out my shoulders, the adrenaline dulling the pain in my
ribs.
No beast is going to eat me. It’s just bones and flesh, same as
every merrow I’ve gutted.
I find the spark inside me that needs this more than anything. The
part that’s been burned and cut open. The bits that had never seen the
face of real evil until I watched her take away the people I love.
I hold on to that spark.
The Naga sees the change. She gets up on her hind legs and
scratches at the space between us, landing with heavy thuds. She makes
the walls tremble. Pieces of the cave come down. The B flat of the
dragon-bird echoes. It cries and cries as I charge at the Naga.
She runs at me.
My thighs burn as I run, run, run, and jump. I swipe, and the
black stone of Triton’s dagger pulses with a dark light. The ancient
symbols light up like they’re on fire.
I punch the Naga’s exposed long neck and she cries out. I hit her
cheek with the hilt of my dagger and she slumps forward, dazed. When I
hit her, I cringe. This is why I’m here. This is what I’ve been
training for, but I can’t shake the feeling that hurting her is wrong.
I shouldn’t do this. But if I don’t, I won’t get the clan’s help and
then I’ll never see Layla again.
The Naga recovers, growling at me. Something is different. It’s
her eyes. I see something so human in the swirl of her eyes, black and
brown like melting stone. Something familiar.
The moment of hesitation is going to cost me. The Naga reaches out
her claw. I move out of its reach and strike with my dagger, too late.
I skim to the right. The blade digs into the flank of her skin until
the resistance stops and I’m slicing through air.
At the same time, her talons dig into my chest.
Warm blood trickles from my wound. A numb prickle blooms around
the cuts.
A scream.
A groan.
We fall into each other.
Prickly numbness spreads through me. My vision goes blurry.
Beneath the rapid pulse of my heart in my eardrums is the cry of
the dragon-bird, like a child after its mother. I roll over and I see
her. The Naga, eyes wide open. Mouth drawing in shaky breaths. But the
beast’s face is changing. Fingers, slender human fingers touching the
blackening skin around the cut beneath her ribs. She turns on her
side, changing the way the river people do. She closes her eyes-the
eyes, lips, face of a teenage girl.
Bloody and cut open and pressed against me so I can feel the cold
sweat of her skin. She tries to lift her head but can’t, raven hair
spilling on the ground.
Sharp pain snakes all over my body and gathers in my head.
When I close my eyes, she says, “Thank you.”
The numbness on my skin returns. My eyes, still blurry at the
corners, focus on Kurt.
He wades out of the stormy Coney Island surf, holding tightly to
the barrel of the Trident of the Skies. He has no need to look for
human clothes or hide the scales around his waist. The beach is
trashed. Sand covers every inch of the boardwalk-or what’s left of the
boardwalk-in small dunes. Boards are sliced into wet splinters.
There’s a crack from the Aquarium entrance to the shore, where waves
collapse and trickle down. I did that to my own home.
I did that to get rid of as many merrows as I could.
Kurt grabs a handful of sand and runs it through his fingers. I
wonder what he’s thinking, if he’s wishing he could press the Rewind
button. Then he dusts his hands, pulls on the yellow disaster tape,
and runs up the boardwalk.
The sky is overcast with fat storm clouds. He crosses the street,
and I know where he’s going-back to Lucine.
He ducks under an archway down the narrow alley that leads to the
Second Circle, the velvet-draped speakeasy operated by vampire Madame
Mercury and a sideshow freak. The movement to his side is so fast that
I can’t see the hands that grab him until it’s too late. Kurt is
pinned to the red brick wall.
It’s Marty McKay, the shapeshifter, with Frederik the High Vampire
of New York. They’re joined by Penny and the landlocked from the Sea
Court, along with members of the Thorne Hill Alliance. The Alliance
exists to bring peace among the supernatural creatures in the city. As
they surround Kurt, I guess this means to hell with the Alliance.
“You shouldn’t have come back,” Marty says. I’ve never heard him
sound so serious, but hours before, he was moments from death and I
helped save him. So yeah, almost dying will do that to a guy.
“Are you planning on killing me, vampire?” Kurt says.
“Why are you here?” Frederik’s voice is steely, controlled.
“This isn’t a stake,” Kurt says, his violet eyes not wavering from
Frederik’s black ones. “But it will certainly end you.”
You’re bluffing! I shout. Me, the ether, the friendly fucking
ghost.
But they’ve all seen the power of our weapons and they give him
room.
“Where’s Tristan?” Kurt says.
“Don’t you know?” Frederik answers, a tiny smile playing on his
lips.
Kurt takes in the others, like he’s figuring out how best to take
them on. But Kurt’s not a cold-blooded killer, and he’s going to want
to avoid fighting them. “We’re still on the same side. The side that
wants to destroy the sea witch.”
“Yeah,” Marty says, pacing uncomfortably and rubbing the spot on
his chest where he was skewered hours ago. “Only you have to kill our
friend on the way. Your kin, am I right?”
“The way of the seas has nothing to do with you,” Kurt says.
Frederik bares his fangs. “When your sea ways do this to our home,
then you bet your sparkly ass that it concerns us.”
My ghost self is laughing.
“Then you’ve settled it,” Penny says, distraught. “You’re going to
kill Tristan.”
Kurt looks at the group in front of him, then at the weapon in his
hands. I can feel him trying to draw power from it and failing. But he
doesn’t falter for too long or they’d notice.
“You say you love this land. You fight for it.” Kurt pauses. “Then
gather your army because the sea witch wants to watch the world drown
from her stolen throne. I will do everything I can to stop her.” Kurt
walks past Frederik and says, “Do not stand in my way.”