Fire in the Sea

by Myke Bartlett

  ‘Yes.’

  Lysandra laughed. It was a high, cold sound. ‘So this is what the centuries have done to you, lover. You’ve lived so long like a man, you’ve mistaken yourself for one of them.’ Her lips bent in a cruel smile. ‘But I know the truth. I know what makes a man. It is the sure knowledge that one day he will die. You can’t live forever and still be a man. What would a man think of you, if he knew the truth? He would call you a monster.’ She moved close to Jake, and her voice became a whisper. ‘You and I, we are both monsters.’

  She raised her right arm in a twitching gesture. Two Drowners were suddenly beside the lamppost, one pressing a blade to Sadie’s throat and another to Tom’s.

  ‘Sades,’ Tom muttered.

  ‘Be quiet!’ Sadie hissed.

  Lysandra’s smile was a glassy, gruesome thing. ‘You were wise to tether your acolytes. We might have sung them to their deaths. But they can still bleed.’

  ‘Touch them and I will destroy you,’ Jake said, so quietly that his words were almost lost beneath the wash against the rocks. It was less a threat, Sadie thought, than an admission of defeat. ‘There will be no more hiding, for either of us.’

  ‘This is your justice? You refuse me my prize, yet you would sacrifice everything for the sake of two lives?’

  ‘I would.’

  Lysandra floated down the concrete path to sneer at Sadie. ‘Such cruelty, for this...driftwood.’

  Sadie met the woman’s glare. She wasn’t sure she had ever hated anyone or anything as much as she hated the priestess.

  ‘For her,’ Jake said.

  Tom mumbled something that Sadie tried not to hear.

  ‘Then let me give you a new ultimatum.’ The priestess’s arm swept out along the coast, from Fremantle to Scarborough. ‘Her city for mine.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

  ‘You will bring me my prize by sunrise, or I will sink this city, her city, to the ocean floor. Just as you once sank mine.’

  ‘I can’t give it to you.’

  ‘Then she drowns, my love. Her city drowns.’

  A breeze moved across the groyne and the Drowners were gone. Jake stayed where he was, alone in a trembling puddle. His hands seemed to pull his shoulders down towards the concrete. Sadie cleared her throat and he looked up, remembering himself. He untied the ropes.

  ‘Was she serious?’ Sadie asked. ‘Can she really do that?’

  Jake spoke quickly, impatient with his own explanations. ‘The demon has already given her a good dose of its power, enough to keep her and her people going for thousands of years. She’s not a God, not yet, but there’s no saying what her limits are.’

  ‘So, short answer?’

  Now Jake looked at her, his eyes bright with fear. ‘Yes, she could do it.’

  Even while that was sinking in, Sadie couldn’t help changing the subject. ‘She called you her lover.’

  ‘I was curious when I met Lysandra. I wanted to know what it was like to be human. To truly face death.’ He shook his head, briskly.

  There was a shriek, a whoop and another shriek. Kimberley was awake, struggling with both her balance and her bearings.

  ‘I’ve been spiked!’

  Sadie went to her cousin and hugged her. ‘You’re fine Kim, everything’s okay.’

  ‘I was seeing things. There were these fish people. And this city, but underwater. Sonia always says I’ll be the one to get spiked. She says I should stop letting guys bring me drinks.’ Kimberley began to cry. Sadie cradled her cousin’s head, but she was looking at Jake. He was still staring at the rope in his hands, while Tom checked the damage to his wrists.

  Behind him, beyond the horizon, the storm was drawing in.

  17

  LIVE FOREVER

  Tom wasn’t sure he should leave Sadie with Jake at the Ocean Street house. Kimberley was shivering in the passenger seat, sobbing and rambling. He had agreed to drive her home, but had hoped Sadie would come with him.

  Sadie was angry at Jake, that much was clear, but she was still having trouble looking away. Tom couldn’t understand it. Two hours ago she had never wanted to see Jake again, had called him a killer. Now he threw open his front gate, striding up the path in silent fury, and she was just following him.

  Tom wound down his window. He should call her back and tell her to be sensible.

  ‘Sades!’

  With one foot up on the veranda, Sadie turned. She looked irritated. ‘What?’

  ‘You want me to come back?’

  ‘Whatever. I don’t care.’ Seeming to hear herself, she frowned. ‘Yes. Please.’

  ‘Cool.’

  There was nothing else to say. Tom nodded, once accidentally and once with conviction, then pulled away from the kerb.

  Kingsley followed Sadie through to the lounge and into an argument.

  ‘Where’s everyone else?’

  Agatha was resolute. ‘Patrick is dead. Isaac decided to take his own chances.’

  ‘But no sign of Vincent?’

  ‘Did you really think there would be?’

  Maud sat sideways on the couch, both feet up on the armrest. She looked exhausted and made no effort to join the discussion. Aaron was swigging lager from a dark brown bottle. Each time he picked up the bottle, it was less empty than it had been when he put it down.

  Agatha stepped forward, touching Jake’s arm. ‘You’ve made contact, haven’t you? After so long. It must have hurt.’

  Jake snatched his arm clear. ‘It doesn’t matter. We’re getting out.’

  ‘Without the relic? Without Frobisher?’

  Ignoring her, Jake strode through to the kitchen, slapping at Maud’s soles. ‘Get your damn feet off my furniture.’

  Sadie found Jake and Kingsley sitting on the back step, watching the lightning draw in. Jake didn’t turn as the screen door banged and Sadie felt anger tense her shoulders. Why was she doing the following? Arms tightly folded, she passed him on the steps, scattered dirt with the toe of her boot and came back around to him.

  ‘You can’t really be thinking of just running away?’ she said.

  Jake’s eyes flashed up at her, grey and angry. ‘Sadie, I made the relic. I’m the only one who can open it. If I leave now, there might still be a chance.’

  ‘Not for me and not for Perth. Are you really going to let us all drown? Let me drown?’

  A pause.

  ‘You could come with me.’

  ‘You can’t be serious.’

  He was on his feet now, his shoulders bunched like a boxer’s. ‘You think I want to run?’

  Kingsley shuffled off into the garden, as if excusing himself from an awkward conversation.

  Jake turned to Sadie, ready to argue. Instead, he merely nodded. ‘There’s nothing I can do, Sadie. I’ve done everything I can these last days to find the relic, to find Vincent. Now there isn’t time. I can’t give Lysandra what she wants. I can’t stop her. And I can’t watch. Not again.’

  ‘So that’s your plan, is it? To make sure you’re looking the other way while everyone I know, my whole city, drowns.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t say sorry. There has to be something we can do.’

  ‘Vincent sold the relic to the God squad. And there’s no way of finding it, them or him. He’s probably halfway around the world by now.’

  ‘But say he isn’t. Say we do find the relic.’

  ‘In five hours?’

  Jake had surrendered. He looked at her with pity, like she was deluding herself. Like he knew she would give in. But Sadie wasn’t giving in. ‘Say we do. Would you give it to Lysandra?’

  He didn’t have to think about his answer, but he still took his time. ‘No.’

  ‘Even if it would
save me, and everyone in the city?’

  ‘But it wouldn’t. It would only put you and everyone else on the planet at risk.’

  ‘You’re honestly saying you’d let two million people die?’

  ‘Two million or seven billion? No contest.’

  Even though she was expecting it, that still shook her. She couldn’t believe he was that cold.

  ‘But it’s not down to you to make that choice. You can’t just do the numbers, decide who lives, who dies. You know what we call people who think they can? We call them monsters. Maybe Lysandra was right about you.’

  She was thinking of her grandfather. Of the black-and-white photographs of Hiroshima pinned to the study wall. Thinking of the mushroom clouds that ended the war he had thought just. Clouds that saw him spend the next sixty years marching for peace. Other clippings came and went, but those stayed, even as the paper curled and yellowed.

  Jake said nothing. He walked away from her, into the long grass. Sadie could feel the storm closing in, the air damp against her bare arms.

  ‘You told Lysandra you’d destroy her, if she hurt me,’ she said. ‘Did you mean that?’

  ‘You know I did.’

  ‘So there is another way.’

  Jake winced, but didn’t turn.

  Sadie glared at the back of his head, trying to remember everything he had told her. Trying to find a solution. She thought of him standing on the Fremantle pier, catching his breath and talking of Gods and demons for the first time. ‘You said the demon was a weapon.’

  Jake kept his back to her. ‘No, Sadie.’

  ‘A weapon powerful enough to scare the Gods.’

  ‘Please.’

  He was begging now, quietly desperate. And there it was, simple as anything. Another way. ‘That’s what we do. We find the demon. You use it to stop Lysandra, once and for all. Save my city.’

  Jake rounded on her, more astonished than angry. ‘Doing that would mean betraying the Gods. They’d hunt me down.’

  ‘You said if anyone human asks the demon for anything, then the Gods will destroy all of us. But what if it’s someone who isn’t human, isn’t a Drowner? What if it’s one of their own?’

  ‘They’d still be furious.’

  Sadie held his gaze. ‘But would they still destroy the rest of us?’

  Jake rubbed at the back of his neck. He turned a small circle in the dirt, and came around to face her. His cheeks were bloodless, his eyes pale. ‘It’s a terrible risk, Sadie. There’s no knowing that the demon can be trusted, no saying what would happen. To you, to humanity. To me.’

  ‘But if we don’t try, we know exactly what will happen.’

  ‘You realise what you’re asking?’

  Sadie held her ground. ‘Yeah, I do. I’m asking you to decide where you belong. With Gods, monsters, or the rest of us. Who do you care about, really?’ She bit her lip. ‘Agatha told me, about what you do. What you are.’

  Jake flinched as if she’d raised a hand to slap him. ‘Sadie, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but you wouldn’t have understood.’

  ‘Too right. Where’s Sam? What happened to him?’

  ‘Sam’s dead. He’s gone and he can’t come back.’

  ‘What was he like? I mean, what sort of boy was he?’

  ‘I don’t know. I found him at the bottom of the river, near Blackwell Reach. You know those cliffs, kids are always daring each other to jump off.’ Jake touched his right temple. ‘There was a wound, here. I think he hit his head, was probably dead before he hit the water.’

  ‘But maybe he could have been resuscitated. Maybe someone could have saved him.’

  ‘Nobody did. Believe me, I know how death feels. He had been dead three minutes, at least.’ A small smile pinched his lips. ‘We must have died around the same time.’

  ‘Only you came back, and stole his body.’

  ‘Sadie, it’s how the Gods made me. It’s taken me centuries just to control how I come back, and even now it’s not an exact science. I’ve learned how to wake up in darkness, in cold skin and airless muscle. I can’t help living, but I can try to live without hurting anyone.’

  ‘What about Sam’s mum? His brother? You don’t think this hurts them?’

  ‘Usually, I’d be halfway around the world by now. When I can, I find a way to let them know their loved one is dead.’ He took a step forward, looking for her eyes. ‘Because Sam is dead Sadie. I’m all that’s left of him.’ He frowned. ‘Is that okay?’

  ‘Of course it isn’t.’

  ‘Say you needed a new liver, a new kidney, a new heart. Say you needed a donor’s help to stay alive. Would that be wrong too?’

  Sadie’s teeth clicked. ‘It’s not the same.’

  ‘Isn’t it? This is the best way I know to live, Sadie.’

  Sadie shook her head, slowly. ‘It’s still cruel,’ she said. ‘If the Gods made you that way then they were wrong. They were cruel.’ She reached for his hand, but fell short. ‘I don’t think you’re cruel, Jake. I don’t think you’re a monster. I think you’ve found the best way you can of doing the wrong thing. But it’s still wrong. You shouldn’t have the right to steal a body and trample on someone like Dianne.’

  ‘Then tell me, Sadie. Tell me what’s right.’

  ‘I think you already know. That’s why I knew you’d help me save Kimberley tonight.’

  He stepped back, then towards her. Back again. His hand held his forehead as if he was suddenly dizzy. ‘Stop Lysandra? Stop serving the Gods? Stop coming back?’

  ‘If that’s what it takes, yes.’

  Jake stared at his hands, hanging low and empty by his thighs. ‘I’ve thought about it, over the years. But I’m not sure I have it in me.’

  ‘To betray the Gods?’

  ‘To destroy Lysandra What happened to her people, all those years ago. It was my fault.’

  ‘No it wasn’t. It was her fault. Just like tonight is her fault.’

  He was silent. It might have been a minute before he moved.

  ‘I can’t,’ he said. ‘The relic’s gone. We’ve lost, Sadie. I’m sorry.’

  Somewhere behind them, Kingsley started barking. It began as a low growl, but quickly roused into throaty snarls and snaps. His fleshy muzzle was pressed into the dirt under the garage doors. Twice he raised himself on his hind legs to rattle the hinges.

  ‘That door’s been unlocked,’ Jake noted, indicating a padlock hanging loose. He seemed glad of the distraction, puffing out his chest and squaring his shoulders. He moved to open the doors, but Sadie stopped him.

  ‘There’s a killer looking for you, remember?’

  Jake nodded, then tore the doors open. A stack of tin cans fell at his feet. Spaghetti, beans, stews. Kingsley hurdled them all and bolted to the back of the shed. His barking became savage. It almost drowned out the man’s squeals and pleas for help.

  There was an old sports car inside the garage, a green MG. It was infested with rust and its tyres had crumbled on the sandy floor. Jake squeezed alongside it, towards the back of the shed. Sadie followed.

  They found a man by the rear bumper, writhing and flapping on a makeshift bed constructed from flattened cardboard boxes. A small pile of paperbacks made an impromptu bedside table, lit by a tiny gaslight. Three bottles of wine stood next to it.

  ‘Get it off me! Get it off me!’ the man wailed.

  Jake called Kingsley and the dog reluctantly returned to his master.

  The man sat up, tidying his hair and straightening the denim jacket knotted around his waist.

  It was Vincent. Seeing Jake, he clambered up the back of the car.

  ‘I had to come. There’s a killer out there, someone’s killing us all.’

  Jake snatched Vincent by the front of his singlet and slid him up t
he garage wall, until the smaller man’s head bumped two tins of paint from a precarious shelf.

  ‘I haven’t got it,’ Vincent bleated. ‘It’s gone, I sold it.’

  Jake said nothing. Vincent’s head thumped another a tin from the shelf.

  ‘But it’s safe, I know where it is.’

  Still, Jake said nothing. A glass of nails toppled, scattering in the shadows below.

  ‘I mean, I’ll get it back for you. Right now. Ow.’

  18

  FIND THE RIVER

  Jake dragged Vincent across to the back veranda by the front of his filthy singlet, and threw him down on the top step.

  ‘How long have you been stealing from me?’

  ‘You know, it’s easy for you,’ Vincent spluttered. ‘You had a sweet deal set up with Frobisher, you were always moving money about. Some of us had to struggle to make a living, had to set ourselves up from scratch each time.’

  ‘We’ve got five hours Vincent, maybe less,’ Jake spat. ‘Talk quickly.’

  ‘Look, I had a few contacts in the antique trade. I mean, back in Blighty, there’s a market, sure, but here people go crazy for anything old.’ He looked at Sadie, smiling, as if hoping for an ally. ‘It’s all this newness, you see. All you have to do is give them a whiff of something dusty, and they pay.’

  Jake stood back, crossing his arms. ‘And I’d got old, careless. So you took what you thought I wouldn’t miss. But then, you became greedy.’

  ‘I guess I got a name for myself. I mean, you do, in a place like this. You don’t have to be a big fish to make a splash. People started to ask about my sources. Last thing I wanted was them snooping around here.’ He glanced in the direction of the screen door. ‘It’s been days since I had a cuppa.’

  Jake slapped him with the back of his right hand. ‘The relic. Where is it?’

  ‘A man came to the shop. He looked like a bloody door-knocker, I thought. Nearly turfed him straight out. But then he said he’d heard my name about the place. He said I was the man to get him something special. And then he asked for it, just like that. The box of fire, he called it. I mean, I’m careful. He could have been anyone. I said I was just a bookseller. But he wrote me a cheque, then and there on the counter. Ten thousand dollars. That’s small change, he says. Just a taste of things to come. His client would pay ten times that if I delivered.’ Vincent stopped nursing his slapped cheek and turned out both his palms. ‘I mean, I’ve got debts. Now here’s this bloke offering me a retirement fund.’