by Anna Davies
“Looking for someone?” Sephie asked as she glanced toward the corner of the room. The light emanating from her violet eyes cast on Miranda, whose hands and legs were bound together by Sephie’s snakes. A terrified expression was in her eyes.
“You did this!” Christian yelled. “I did. And I’ll do it to you, too.”
All of a sudden, the yacht lurched.
“Fools,” she cackled. “And they’re all huddled up and panicking like the humans they are. I haven’t even begun what I plan to do. Because, of course, first, I want to make sure I pay proper attention to both of you. Now, I think, for Miranda, she’d appreciate being drowned. Just like she was supposed to be when you ruined it,” Sephie said, tossing the last sentence back cavalierly. She snapped her fingers. The hold was suddenly flooded with an eerie, bright light that was brighter than any sun he’d seen Up Above. At last he could see Miranda, doomed and terrified in the corner.
Christian stepped in front of Miranda. “Please. Take me. Like what our bargain was. I want to sacrifice myself,” he said. He turned toward Miranda.
Miranda shook her head desperately back and forth.
“Yes,” Christian said. “Please, Sephie. Do what you have to do. I’m yours. My soul is yours for the taking, in exchange for Miranda.”
Sephie laughed her long, low terrible laugh. “The deal was off as soon as you went and fell in love, dear boy. Miranda is mine. But I’ll take you, too, don’t worry. If you’re that desperate to be a martyr.”
Suddenly, the ship lurched again, casting Christian against the side of the ship, opposite Miranda. Water was sloshing around his ankles. He reached in his pocket for the matches. It was now or never.
“I COULD JUST SIT AND WATCH YOU ALL DAY. I’VE GOT YOU BOTH, fish in a net,” Sephie mused, glancing from Miranda to Christian. Miranda shivered, trying not to move her limbs. She finally understood what the phrase “paralyzed by fear” meant. It wasn’t so much the snakes that were holding her in place, it was the absolute terror that she’d lose Christian.
“And the best part is,” Sephie continued, as though they were having a casual conversation, “I still have three more souls to get. They always say that rewards are better if you’ve worked for them, and I’ve certainly worked for these souls. I deserve them,” she said. “And Christian, you’re a great example of the consequences of breaking my rules,” she said.
Miranda stopped listening, allowing Sephie’s words to fade into the background of her consciousness. Instead, the only thing she focused on was how much she loved Christian. She experimentally pulled on the tie that circled her wrist. The snake gave before seizing.
“Trying to escape?” Sephie asked, moving ominously toward her. “That will not be possible.”
Miranda forced herself to stay as still as possible, staring at a spot a few feet away on the floor, willing herself to not stare into Sephie’s eyes. The next time the ship lurched, she’d pull against the snakes, using the moment of looseness to wiggle out. It was like going for a break in soccer, no thought, all confidence.
Sephie took another step toward her, and Miranda remained still, slumping against the wall as if she’d fallen into a half-faint. If she had to die, if Christian had to die, she didn’t want to watch.
All of a sudden, she heard an unearthly shriek and saw a flash of light through her closed eyelids. Her eyes flew open.
In the half-darkness, she saw Christian, desperately flicking a match against the box she recognized from the beach.
“You’ll pay for your treachery!” Sephie shrieked as she lurched toward Christian. “I will destroy you.” She pushed him roughly and the box of matches fell out of his hand.
Sephie laughed. “You think you’re so powerful, do you? You had your whole plan. But an agreement is an agreement, Christian. You broke it.” She smiled and Miranda willed herself to stay still. The less she struggled, the more the snakes relaxed.
“Sephie, kill me. Just don’t take Miranda,” Christian repeated, holding his hands up until he was backed against the wall.
“I will kill you,” Sephie said, in a voice so low that Miranda had to strain to hear. “But should I kill you while Miranda watches, or vice versa? Which one will cause more pain?” She asked, as she took her finger and circled his hands. Just like before, a snake sprang from her finger to form handcuffs.
“See? I’m much more powerful than your human matches,” Sephie laughed scornfully.
Miranda steeled her courage. It was now or never. The snakes had relaxed enough that all it would take was one tug to pull herself away from the wall. She focused on Christian, even though she doubted he could see her, and pulled.
The momentum caused her to land with a thud on her stomach.
Sephie whirled around and Miranda frantically searched the ground with her hands until she finally clamped against the box.
Struggling to her knees, she struck the match and threw it, not sure where it would strike.
Instantly flames erupted at the hem of Sephie’s short dress, surrounding her. Sephie let out a long, high-pitched wail as the snakes that entwined Christian’s limbs disappeared into an inky cloud of smoke.
“Christian!” Miranda gasped. She could speak again.
The fire engulfing Sephie made the air around them black with smoke. “Run!” Christian commanded, grabbing the box of matches from her.
Heart pounding, Miranda ran toward the stairs and crouched on the top step. The boat rocked, more violently than before. Frightened shouts emanated from up above. It was just like the accident, but on a larger scale. Miranda watched in horror.
Sephie shrieked, while Christian continued to set fires until an entire ring of fire engulfed the sea witch. Miranda couldn’t tear her gaze away.
“Fools! Both of you!” Sephie growled. “The curse stands. You didn’t do what you set out to do.”
“Come on! Go!” Christian said, running toward Miranda, grabbing her wrist and dragging her up the stairs.
Upstairs, guests on the deck were panicking. Some were jumping overboard, hoping they could swim to shore, while others were hanging on to the sides of the ship. The fire had quickly climbed up the stairwells and now sprouted in various places on deck. Rain pelting from above did nothing to quench the flames.
Christian glanced around wildly, but their boat was the only one in the sound.
“Jump!” Christian yelled. There wasn’t time to waste. Flames were already licking the wheelhouse, and it was only a matter of time before the ship erupted like a powder keg. “Go!” he said, taking it upon himself to grab the nearest guests and hurl them into the water. They weren’t far from Bloody Point. One by one, guests began jumping overboard.
Miranda gazed around just as she saw Teddy ease her grandmother into the water. Please be okay, she whispered into the sky. And even though the sky was black with clouds, she could have sworn she saw a star blinking at her. And whether it was Fletch, or magic, or a trick of the light, she chose to believe everything would be okay.
Finally, only Christian and Miranda remained aboard.
He offered his hand and Miranda nodded and grabbed it. Together, they jumped, just before flames engulfed the ship. Christian glanced back and saw it lighting up the night sky with terrible beauty.
SHE WAS BACK ON STAR GAZER, ZIPPING TOWARD THE mainland. Unlike every other time she’d been out on the boat, she was alone, with nothing but the sea in front of her. She wasn’t sure where she was going, and the navigation on the console didn’t show anything, not even the green dot that signaled her location, her existence, in the ocean.
Miranda kept driving, farther and farther out, aware that she wasn’t moving of her own volition, but not feeling panicked or confused. Was this what death was like? Just moving farther and farther from the land of the living and toward an endless horizon? Miranda reached out, as if to touch the console in front of her, when her hand made contact with a body. A human body.
Miranda yelped as her eyes flew open. She wa
s back on the beach at Bloody Point, wrapped in Christian’s arms. In the distance, she could see the smoke still pluming from the ship, lit by the lights of the harbor.
Christian turned toward her. Miranda pushed his hair out of his eyes, not quite believing that they were really here, together.
Miranda leaned down and brushed her lips against his forehead. Christian opened his eyes, and Miranda noticed for the first time how long and blond his eyelashes were. She wanted to study his face forever.
“Hi,” Miranda whispered.
“Miranda.” A flicker of pain crossed Christian’s face.
“Are you okay?” Miranda asked in concern. She held the back of her hand to Christian’s forehead. It was burning up.
“No. I can’t stay. I need to go back,” Christian said in a thick voice that didn’t sound like his own.
Miranda’s stomach felt like it was in free fall. “No, you don’t. There’s no more Sephie. My grandma will want you to stay. It’ll all be fine. Please?” Miranda asked, pleading.
“When I came to the Surface . . . when we met, it was because Sephie had allowed me to. She’d given me seven days to bring your soul to her. And of course I knew the whole time I couldn’t, and I thought . . . I had a plan,” Christian shook his head. “But today is the last day.”
“But she’s dead,” Miranda repeated in confusion.
“The curse stands,” Christian said.
“The curse stands?” Miranda echoed, not understanding the words. How could it? She’d seen Sephie disappear. Christian had legs. He was right in front of her! “But that doesn’t make sense!” Miranda wailed. “But that means we’ll never see each other again. Right?” she asked shakily.
Christian nodded.
“So, how long . . . ,” Miranda asked fretfully. “One day,” Christian said.
Miranda bit her lip and glanced away. “I could go Down Below.”
“No,” Christian shook his head and pulled her close to him. Miranda could feel his chest heaving. “There’s nothing you can do.”
Miranda nodded. Her heart hurt. Her head hurt. And she didn’t know what she could possibly do to stop the onslaught of grief about to wash over her.
“I don’t want you to go,” she whispered. She leaned in to kiss him, because she knew that if she didn’t, and if she kept staring at him, she would cry. He felt so alive and real in her arms. She couldn’t believe he was just going to slip away.
“I don’t want to go,” Christian shook his head and gazed far off into the ocean. He gently cupped her chin with his hand and tilted her head to his, then leaned in to allow his lips to graze hers. Miranda kissed him back. As long as they were kissing, she couldn’t cry.
“I love you,” Miranda said. The words felt so small and insignificant. But she didn’t know what else to say. They’d avoided the obvious as they’d run from the water to the shore, then back into the water, where they’d splashed each other and pulled each other’s ankles underwater. How could he live down there? It was so cold and dark. It didn’t suit him. He was all light and warmth.
“I love you,” Christian repeated. The sun was peeking over the horizon line. His time was running out. He could feel it in his lungs, in his stomach. In his heart. All too soon, he’d turn into a betwixtman, one who wasn’t able to surface. He didn’t want Miranda to see him like that, flopping helplessly on the surface of Up Above. He reached over and kissed her one more time, even more urgently than before. “You have to leave,” he said. His eyes locked with hers, and he could see his reflection in her gray irises. “Please,” he said urgently.
He didn’t have to.
Miranda stood up, and pulled him up so they were facing eye to eye, heart to heart.
She flung her arms around his neck. “I can’t watch. Just . . . if you can, somehow, let me know you’re okay.” Tears were beginning to form and run down her face, slowly at first, then faster and faster. She turned away and ran as hard as she could, through the sand and up toward the line of trees. She fell against a rough tree trunk and began sobbing for real.
The sun was rising, filling the sky with brilliant reds and pinks and corals. The ocean was calm, and, if she squinted, she thought she could see a sparkly sheen to the waves.
She was alone.
She let out a long, plaintive wail and raced into the water. But nothing was there, except for a thin patch of sparkly sea foam that could just as well have been the sun reflecting against the water. He was really gone.
Miranda sat down and hugged her knees to her chest. She was alone. And yet she wasn’t, not really. Because Christian was there somewhere. And if he was there, even if she couldn’t see him, then maybe that meant that Gen and Fletch and Darcy and Alexa were all there too. And maybe she couldn’t see them or touch them, but they could still exist somewhere. And that had to be enough. That had to be the magic to get her through.
“I love you!” Miranda called out to the horizon, the wind whipping her words out to sea.
And way out in the ocean, Miranda saw a familiar sparkle.
She turned and hurried away, her back toward the shore.
As soon as she walked onto the main road, she heard one lone siren wailing from the beach. Tears were running down her face, her dress was soaked and smelled like fire, and bruises circled her wrists. She felt exhausted and depleted but okay. She’d be okay.
She walked slowly toward her house, each step causing pain to surge through her legs. The island was eerily quiet, even for early morning.
Finally, she made it to the house. All the lights were on and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t have a sinking feeling when she opened the French doors.
“Miranda!” her grandmother said, joyfully embracing her. Teddy reached to hug her, too, and the three of them rocked back and forth.
“You came back,” Eleanor said in her croaky voice, taking a step back to appraise her. “But where’s . . .”
“He left,” Miranda said. “He couldn’t stay.” Someday she’d explain everything, but not today. And even though her voice wobbled when she said it, she knew it would be sort of okay. Maybe not today or next year, but at some point.
Eleanor nodded. “I was so worried about you,” she said, pushing Miranda’s bangs back from her face and glancing at her fondly.
“Me too, about you. I love you,” Miranda said shyly. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d said I love you to her grandmother.
“I’m so sorry, my baby girl, that I didn’t trust you,” Eleanor said, her eyes wet with tears.
“I . . . ,” Miranda sputtered, unsure of what to say. It’s okay? “I forgive you,” she said finally. “I know it’s all weird. I don’t think I would have believed it,” she said, making eye contact with Teddy so he knew she didn’t blame him for not doing anything when she told him Christian was a betwixtman.
“We’ve always been subject to the Sea Witch. Ever since time immemorial,” Eleanor mused. “Of course, everyone thought those legends were old wives’ tales, tales that crabbers told on their long nights . . .” Eleanor shook her head. “But that is neither here nor there. Your Christian saved us, and we are forever indebted.”
Teddy nodded solemnly.
“I’m ready to leave the island,” Miranda said finally. Yes, being here meant being close to Christian, but there was too much pain and too many memories. She wanted to go somewhere where no one knew her, where there was no world beneath the sea, just out of her reach. Because even though she wanted to remember everything, she knew she needed to get some distance and forget some things to do it.
Eleanor nodded, as if she’d been expecting Miranda to say that. “You can leave tonight, if you wish.”
“Thanks,” Miranda said, a small smile playing on her lips. Finally, she and Eleanor understood each other. Unprompted, she reached toward Eleanor and embraced her, allowing herself to cry, for the first time ever, on her grandmother’s shoulder.
ONE YEAR LATER
IN ARIZONA, THE DRY
HEAT MAKES MIRANDA’S LUNGS BURN when she breathes, and each sunny day after sunny day seems to wipe out memories of foggy mornings that broke into brilliant crystal-blue-sky afternoons. There are few storms, and the rare ones that occur kick up walls of dust, not waves.
It’s the exact opposite of Whym, and Miranda still isn’t sure if that’s a good or a bad thing. She attends a boarding school, Arizona Academy for Academic Excellence, that sits in between a strip mall and highway and the desert, and for the most part, she keeps to herself. She likes it that way, finding it oddly freeing to be somewhere where no one knows her history. She also is finding that bad luck, or Sephie’s curse, or whatever it was that clung to her on Whym, did not follow her to the desert. Here, she’s free.
Which also means that she feels herself becoming less and less connected to Christian. She knows that he’s somewhere, just beyond the crest of a wave. But there are no waves here. She wonders if he can sense the fact that she’s so far away from him. She knows that he thinks about her.
She also knows she’ll need to go back to Whym eventually. There are still people there: Eleanor, Teddy, even Fletch’s parents, who are part of her past and will hopefully be part of her future. But she also knows that she can’t do that until she can look out across the ocean without crying, without feeling her stomach sink in despair for all the destruction and loss that she endured. And with each passing day, she feels more and more ready to do that. She’s ready to reach out and learn to love again, to open herself up to the very real possibility of loss. She’s ready to run into the ocean and dive in headfirst, relying on the waves to buoy her up. She’s ready to see Mr. and Mrs. King, and remember Fletch as the hero he was. She’s ready to forgive Gray, who moved to her grandparent’s house in Charleston. She’s ready to finally visit Genevieve’s grave, and tell her the entire story of Christian and Sephie and cry, wishing that Genevieve could have somehow been spared. She’s ready to believe that love doesn’t always have to mean loss.
