Surrendering (Swans Landing)

by Norris, Shana

  We chewed our granola bars in silence. I could hear the soft tone of muffled voices floating down from the attic over this part of the house, but I couldn’t make out the words.

  I thought of my mother, wondering how she was doing and what might be happening to her.

  “Do you think everyone else is okay?” Dylan asked, as if he had sensed my thoughts.

  I rubbed a hand over my head, scratching at my scalp. “I don’t know. I hope so. But I don’t know.”

  Dylan tapped his fingers on the countertop, biting his lip.

  “We need to get more people to work with us,” I said. “There are more of us Swansers than there are of them. Maybe we could take them by surprise, overpower them or something.”

  “The humans won’t work with us,” Dylan said.

  “Then you have to convince them.”

  Dylan rolled his eyes. “Sure, let me get right on that. And they’ll listen to me because…?”

  “Maybe they all won’t listen to you,” I said. “But Elizabeth will.”

  Dylan’s gaze darted toward me, his nostrils flared. “What makes you think that?”

  “Because I know that something happened between you and Elizabeth,” I said. “Recently, I would guess. While Sailor and I were gone.”

  “You’re insane.” Dylan turned toward the sink and grabbed a glass, filling it with water.

  “I’m observant,” I corrected him. “I see the way the two of you look at each other. How mad you got yesterday when Elizabeth was all over Kyle. She shows off just to piss you off. The two of you can’t help talking about each other, insisting that you don’t really care.”

  Dylan spun around, his fingers gripping the glass. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Canavan.”

  “Cut the crap, Waverly. I don’t care about the details of your sex life or whether you even have one, but this is more important than that. You have to talk to Elizabeth and you have to get her to listen to you. If you don’t want her to get hurt, you have to talk to her.”

  “Elizabeth Connors is not my problem,” Dylan growled.

  “If you don’t do something to help her, then you’re not the caring guy I always thought you were.”

  Dylan glared at me, then snatched up the salt shaker and dumped salt into his water. He drank it down, gulping the water and sighing when he was done. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then set the glass in the sink.

  “Fine,” he said. “I’ll talk to her.”

  * * *

  We tried calling Elizabeth and texting her, but she wouldn’t answer either one. Dylan looked up at me, his hair hanging in his face as he leaned over the island countertop, and I could see the worry in his eyes.

  “Do you think they already got to her?” he asked.

  I pressed my lips together, not wanting him to see the anxiety that I felt growing inside me. I couldn’t guarantee anything at the moment with Domnall and his people on the island.

  “We’ll have to go to her,” I said.

  Dylan’s eyebrows shot up. “What if the finfolk are out there waiting for us?”

  “Do we really have a choice?” I asked. “Either we hide out in here until we run out of food, or we go out and try to save as many people as we can.”

  We decided not to wake anyone or let them know that we were leaving. I was sure they’d try to stop us, after Callum’s disappearance. I didn’t want to worry Mara or Dylan’s parents. We’d go out, talk to Elizabeth, and then come back. We’d be careful. The residential area of Swans Landing wasn’t very big, and so Elizabeth’s house wasn’t far from Sailor’s. We could sneak through yards and use the other houses in between as cover. We had an advantage over Callum, being native Swansers and knowing the island like the back of our hands.

  Besides, Artair had already let me go once. I was sure I could convince him to overlook me again. He wasn’t like Domnall, no matter what he said.

  I closed the door as quietly as I could and then the two of us slipped down the stairs, ducking as we rounded the side of the house to avoid being seen from the small attic window. It wasn’t much of a lookout, since it was tiny and was never meant to provide a view. Hopefully the angle from the window wasn’t good enough to let the people up there see us.

  Of course, that also meant that they would never see the finfolk if they came up on that side of the house.

  The island was quiet that morning. Too quiet. Goosebumps prickled all along my arms as we ran half-crouched past the house behind the Mooring home. We ducked behind a large rhododendron, peering out to look for signs of anyone else. There was nothing. Not even birds swooping overhead.

  “Does it feel like everything has disappeared to you, or is it just me?” Dylan muttered next to me.

  I nodded. “It feels wrong. Too still.”

  I didn’t know what that meant for the rest of the population of Swans Landing. The finfolk who weren’t with us at Miss Gale’s house had been called and warned last night to stay in their homes. But there were still the humans who weren’t on our side, who had refused to listen to our warnings.

  Dylan shifted, snapping a twig under his foot. I jumped at the noise.

  “Sorry,” he whispered.

  We raced away from our hiding place, hurrying across the narrow street to the next yard. My gaze darted from one side to the other as we slipped between houses and over fences. My body was so tense, I didn’t realize I was clenching my jaw until it started to ache.

  Finally, we reached the sea foam green house where Elizabeth lived. We ducked under the house, hiding behind a black car that didn’t look as if it had been used in a long time. Most people didn’t drive their cars around the island, saving them for trips on the ferry to the mainland.

  “Should we ring the doorbell?” I asked.

  Dylan snorted. “And have her dad slam it in our faces? Yeah, that’ll work great.”

  “Text her,” I said. “See if you can get her to let us in.”

  “I have a better idea.” Dylan grabbed a ladder that hung from two hooks above us and carried it around the side of the house. He leaned it against the wooden deck that wrapped around most of the house, then he climbed up.

  “I know which room is hers,” Dylan told me.

  I smirked. “I’ll bet you do.”

  I glanced around, scanning the area, but we were still alone, so I climbed up after him. We crawled on our knees to the edge of the deck, where a single window hung just past the edge of the railing.

  Dylan got up on his knees and tapped on the window. We waited, shivering in the cool morning air, but there was no response. Dylan tapped again, harder and longer.

  The curtains over the window shifted and Elizabeth peered out at us, her hair tousled and her eyes only half-open. Shock passed across her face when she spotted us, quickly replaced by a scowl.

  The window slid open and Elizabeth leaned out. “What the hell?” she whispered. “Do you two have any idea what time it is?”

  “You need to listen to us,” Dylan told her. “There are people here who are very dangerous. They’ll come after you and your family.”

  Elizabeth crossed her arms. She wore a thin cotton T-shirt, which was slightly transparent. I fought hard to keep my gaze on her face.

  “Is this about all that crap Mr. Richter was calling about last night? My daddy said he’s as crazy as the rest of you fish people.”

  “This is serious,” I said. “These people have come for us finfolk. They don’t care about you, and they won’t be nice if you get in their way.”

  She sneered. “I don’t plan to get in their way. If they want you freaks, they can have you.” Her eyes moved toward Dylan, her expression hardening. “All of you.”

  “Elizabeth,” Dylan said, “this is not a game—”

  “Go back to the ocean, Fish Boy.” Then she slammed the window shut, pulling the curtains tight.

  “Dammit,” Dylan muttered. He raised a fist like he was going to punch through the glass and make
her listen, but then he lowered his hand. “Fine. If that’s the way she wants to be, she’s on her own.”

  He crawled to the ladder and made his way down. I eased myself over the edge and climbed back to the ground, pulling the ladder down and tossing it into the grass.

  “Why don’t you just tell her you still like her?” I asked.

  Dylan’s eyes narrowed. “Because I don’t.”

  “Like hell you don’t. Look at how tense and wound up you are. If I hadn’t been there, you’d probably have crawled right into her window. Maybe if you had, she would have listened to you.”

  “I don’t give a damn about Elizabeth Connors,” Dylan told me through clenched teeth.

  “Does anyone else know about you and her?” I asked. “Does Mara know?”

  Dylan spun around and stalked across the yard, his fists clenched.

  “So what happened?” I asked, hurrying to catch up to him. “Whose idea was it? It had to be hers, right? So Elizabeth threw herself at you, you took advantage of the action, and then what? You threatened to tell everyone? You wanted her to be your girlfriend? Or did she figure out she was just a replacement because you couldn’t have Mara?”

  Dylan whirled around, moving too fast for me to react. His fist connected with the side of my face, my teeth ripping into my gums on the impact. I spit out a mouthful of blood, wiping my chin with the back of my hand.

  Dylan looked as surprised as I felt, his eyes wide as he stared at me. Fury surged through me, starting in my toes and racing up my body. I hated him for how easy he’d had it. What had he done these last five months? He stayed in Swans Landing while Sailor and I swam four thousands miles each way. He got to spend five months with Mara that I hadn’t had. He’d apparently spent time running around the island with Elizabeth, and I had a pretty good idea of what he might have been doing in her bedroom.

  He’d never had to lie about who he was. His mother hadn’t killed his father. He had nothing to complain about and all he’d done since I’d gotten back was whine and moan. I was sick of it.

  I lunged, pushing him backward into the street. His head hit the asphalt and he groaned, but he was pushing back at me within seconds. We rolled over each other, arms swinging. Pain seared across my face when his fist hit my left eye and then he gasped when I punched him in the gut.

  It felt good. All of the frustration I’d been holding inside for too long was coming out of me as I pummeled Dylan. I wanted to beat him until there was nothing left.

  Gold bursts sparked in front of my eyes and my swing wavered, missing Dylan’s ear. Through the haze that had begun to settle over me, I saw him shaking his head and blinking.

  I became aware of a new sound that had broken the silence around us: the finfolk song.

  Domnall and his guards stood only a few feet away, watching us as Domnall sang.

  I rolled off Dylan, pressing my hands over my ears. “Don’t look at it,” I said. “Fight it.”

  Dylan groaned next to me. My body shuddered as I fought against the urge to follow the song. That was the most dangerous part of it. Not that it showed me what I wanted, but that it would make me follow it straight to Domnall.

  We had to get away. I rolled over, bracing myself on my knees and elbows, trying to push myself up from the asphalt. “Dylan,” I croaked. “Get up. We have to run.”

  “Joshua,” a voice said, the sound drifting on the wind toward me.

  I shuddered. I wouldn’t look. It wasn’t really my dad. He was dead. He was never coming back.

  “Joshua,” the voice said again.

  No! It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him, I knew that.

  “I’m here, Joshua,” the voice said.

  I couldn’t help it. Even as my eyelids slid open, the voice in my head yelled at me not to do it, to keep my eyes closed and run as hard as I could.

  But I was human and I was weak.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “Dad,” I gasped, reaching out toward him. He stood there, solid and real, his hand stretched toward me, beckoning. Small rocks and broken shells dug into my palms as I crawled forward.

  “Joshua,” my dad said, smiling. “Come here.”

  “Dad!” Tears stung my eyes and I crawled faster, stumbling as a rock stabbed painfully into my knee.

  But then another voice shattered my focus on the vision of my dad. “No!” Through the haze that had filled my mind I saw Elizabeth race across the grass, still dressed in her thin T-shirt, flat ankle boots on her feet. She moved in front of Dylan, her arms spread as she glared at Domnall. “Get away from them!”

  Only Artair’s face changed as he looked at Elizabeth, standing defiantly in front of the group. He shifted, his gaze darting to Domnall briefly, before his face took on his usual detached, stern look.

  Domnall didn’t seem bothered by Elizabeth’s arrival. He continued to sing, his eyes locked on her, the corners of his lips curled into a smile.

  “No,” Elizabeth said, but I could see the way her body shook. I squeezed my eyes shut, telling myself not to look again. I turned around, the movements slow and painful as I resisted the call of the song that surged through me.

  I followed the sound of Elizabeth’s choked sob, not daring to open my eyes. “Dylan,” she said, her voice breaking.

  “It’s not real, Elizabeth,” Dylan said, his own voice strained. “Fight it.”

  But she didn’t have the advantage of finfolk blood. She would be even more vulnerable to the song’s effects. I reached out, my hand swiping at empty air. If I could find her, even just her leg, I could try to hold her back.

  The crack of a gun’s discharge exploded through the neighborhood. My eyelids snapped open wide to find the source of the sound.

  Mr. Connors stood at the edge of the yard, his silver handgun clutched in one hand. “That was a warning shot,” he boomed, his focus on the finfolk. “You touch my daughter and the next one will be in your head.”

  Domnall had stopped singing at the sound of the gun, but now he turned toward the other man, his face twisted into a wicked snarl. “You have no power here, human,” he said. “Your little weapons are useless.”

  Mr. Connors raised the gun, aiming at the finfolk king, but Domnall began to sing again, louder this time. The song roared through the air, the notes hungry and furious. Mr. Connors let the gun fall to the ground and he took a step forward.

  “C—” His mouth opened and closed as he tried to form words, his eyes wide and glassy.

  “Josh!” Dylan rose from his place on the street, staggering forward. “Get up! Run!”

  He darted forward, grabbing Elizabeth by the arm and dragging her behind him. I forced myself up onto unsteady legs, stumbling as I told myself not to look at the golden bursts where I knew my dad would appear.

  As I regained control of my body and pushed myself to follow Dylan and Elizabeth, I heard Mr. Connors’s aching call behind me.

  “Coral!”

  * * *

  The door flew open as we raced up the stairs of the Mooring house. Lake glared out at us, steam practically coming out of his ears as he motioned for us to get inside. Once Dylan, Elizabeth, and I had tumbled into the house, Lake slammed the door, locking it and shoving the towels in front of the crack at the bottom again.

  My body felt heavy and exhausted. I collapsed onto the couch and Mara rushed over, kneeling in front of me.

  “Where have you been?” she exclaimed, her hands pawing over my arms and face, as if she were checking for injuries.

  “Yes.” Lake’s voice was stern and tense. He crossed his arms as he looked down at me. “I’d like to know that myself.”

  Across the room, Dylan’s parents were fussing over him. His mom examined him, then pulled him into a tight hug, her face pale. Mr. Waverly scowled, but the relief on his face made it less effective than Lake’s glowering look.

  A lump swelled in my throat and I broke my gaze from the reunion between Dylan and his parents.

  “We went to talk to Elizabeth,�
�� I said.

  All heads in the room—Lake, Mr. and Mrs. Waverly, Mara, Mr. Moody, and Sailor—turned toward the girl who had crumpled to the floor against the wall. She sat with her knees pulled up to her chest, apparently not caring that her pink-striped underwear was in full view. Her arms draped across her knees and her head was down, her hair shielding her face. It wasn’t until her shoulders shook that I realized she was crying.

  “Why?” Mara asked me.

  I looked at her, then shifted my gaze to Dylan. She followed my gaze, and her expression changed. So she did know.

  “We wanted to warn people,” Dylan spoke up. “Elizabeth wouldn’t answer my calls, and Mr. Connors had already hung up on Mr. Richter last night. I had to try to talk to Elizabeth in person, to get her to listen.”

  “Why is it any of your business whether the Connors girl is okay?” Mr. Moody growled, his eyes narrowed.

  No one spoke for long moments. Dylan swallowed, his jaw tight.

  Sailor looked between Dylan and Elizabeth, and then back again. She pushed herself up from the barstool where she had been sitting and laughed bitterly.

  “Tell me you’re joking,” she said.

  Dylan stared back at her, but he didn’t speak.

  “Elizabeth Connors?” Sailor roared. I cringed as her voice echoed off the walls around us. “You’re in love with Elizabeth Connors?”

  “I never said that,” Dylan said quickly, his eyes darting toward Elizabeth, who was still huddled on the floor.

  “Then what?” Sailor asked. “She’s just your hook up buddy?”

  Mr. Waverly’s neck reddened and he cleared his throat. “Maybe we should discuss this later.”

  “We will discuss it later,” Lake said, still glaring at Dylan and me. “You two are lucky Domnall didn’t find you.”

  Dylan and I exchanged glances.

  “Actually,” I said, unable to meet Lake’s gaze, “he did.”

  “We got away because of her.” Dylan nodded toward Elizabeth.

  “We were behind her house when the finfolk found us,” I said. “Elizabeth came out to stop them, but she became caught up in the song. Then Mr. Connors came with his gun, but that was no use. Dylan and I were able to resist enough to run and we brought Elizabeth with us. But they have her dad.”