by K. Panikian
I sat quietly with my wine while Julian called Uncle Alex, put his phone on speaker, and relayed the information on the four sites we’d highlighted. Then we sat silently for several minutes.
Eventually, Uncle Alex spoke again. “The city in Pakistan feels the least urgent. I think there is a portal there, but the site is so old, I wonder if it’s become inaccessible. Buried or something, perhaps? I think that you may leave it to explore some other time.”
Thanking him, Julian hung up, looking at me.
“I want to be on the team that checks the Alaska lake,” I said.
Julian nodded. “I texted with Very earlier today and she told me she and Owen can go wherever. They can defer Owen’s start to the spring semester if they need to.”
His phone rang and he looked at the screen. “Theo,” he said, answering it. After a minute, he said, “I’m going to put you on speaker. Astrid’s here too.”
He put the phone back into the middle of the table and Theo said, “Hey, Astrid.”
“Hey, Theo. How’s your dad?”
“Nothing to report yet. His appointment is later in the week.” Theo’s voice was quiet. I felt a pang in my chest.
“Listen, Julian told me that one of the places you want to check out is the Bermuda Triangle. I wanted to remind you guys that I’ve got family down in Florida. My mom’s sister and her husband, and their two kids, have a boat chartering business in the Keys. They’re not magical, but they know about us, sort of.
“I just talked to my uncle and he says if we need a boat, he’s got one we can use. He had a charter cancel on him and my cousin can captain the boat.”
“That’s great,” Julian said. “We’re finalizing plans tonight and we’ll probably be on the move by tomorrow. Let your uncle know he’ll have two people on their way to him shortly.”
“Will do,” Theo said and hung up.
“That’s pretty serendipitous,” I noted to Julian with raised eyebrows.
“Yeah, must be a sign we’re on the right track. Want to change your vote to the Bermuda Triangle team?”
“No.” I shook my head sharply. “We took a trip down to Homer last month and went deep-sea fishing for halibut. I got incredibly seasick. I don’t want to be on the boat team.”
Julian laughed. “Fair enough.”
“I’m going to start dinner.” I headed for the fridge.
I was planning on making salmon with a lemon and dill sauce, butternut squash puree, and carrots with maple and dill. I’d asked Cato to grab some king salmon from the fish market while I was at work and put it in my fridge. And there it was.
After washing my hands, I pulled out my cutting board.
“Can I help?” Julian asked.
“Sure.”
I handed him the carrots to start peeling. We worked through my recipes easily. It felt weird to have someone in the kitchen with me. Bard and Cato never helped me cook.
Julian was so large; he made the space seem small. After we bumped into each other a couple of times, each accidental touch giving my heart a galloping workout, I stationed his chopping area at the table on the other side of the room.
Cato came over after a little while and sat with Julian at the table. They talked about baseball and then schoolwork.
Grinning to myself at the stove, I looked over. I caught Julian’s eyes, watching me, and mouthed “thanks” to him. Julian’s eyes twinkled back at me as he kept talking to Cato about the GED classes. Cato was a reluctant scholar.
Finally, Bard came in, freshly showered, and joined them at the table.
Julian got up to help me grab plates and silverware and then we served everything out at the picnic table on the back deck. The dill and lemon scents permeated the air and I poured myself another glass of wine.
Bard lit the citronella tiki torches and everyone dug in, murmuring complimentary things. I liked cooking; I’d learned that fact about myself early on after our arrival here. At the citadel, the kitchen staff kept everyone out of their space. When we were out tracking or traveling on the steppe, I cooked game over an open fire, and sometimes I had freshly foraged vegetables and spices to add in, but usually I didn’t.
Very got me my first cookbook here and sent me new recipes all the time. I adored cooking with her when she and Owen came for dinner and I missed her that night.
The salmon melted in my mouth, buttery and sweet.
After we were done eating, Julian told the guys that we’d decided to substitute the meteor blast in Russia from the 1940s for the Indus Valley site. Bard shrugged. He’d go wherever, he said.
Cato was really excited about the Bermuda Triangle. He’d been reading about it all day. Eagerly talking about the different theories and how many ships and airplanes had actually disappeared, he pulled up a map on his phone to show us. It looked like a lot of square miles to cover.
Bard noted that it made no sense to bring Owen and Very all the way back to Alaska to travel to Lake Iliamna. They should go to Russia and check that site. I nodded along.
As the conversation slowly maneuvered around to it, I realized that meant Julian and I would be going to the Alaska lake together.
My initial instinct was to protest. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t spend that much time with him and not break my heart again. But then I stopped myself. If I said no, he would know I still cared about him, and that thought was unbearable.
Instead, smiling, I chirped cheerily, “Okay, so Julian and I will go to the lake.” Then I took a large gulp of my wine.
Chapter 5
By morning, we had it all arranged. Very and Owen would fly to the Sikhote-Alin Mountains and search for the portal there, if there was one, and watch out for tigers. Bard and Cato would fly to the Keys and meet up with Theo’s cousin and the boat to get to the Bermuda Triangle. And I would fly southwest with Julian, across the inlet, to Iliamna Lake.
It was a race—the first team to find a gate would call the rest and we’d all head to that location.
I’d spent some time the night before researching the lake monster at Iliamna. The reports varied. The native people there, the Yup’ik and Dena’ina, said that the monster was a water-dwelling animal with a head and tail similar to that of a wolf and a body like an orca. Pilots flying low over the lake reported a giant fish-like animal with a tail that swayed from side to side, like a reptile. The monster had been known to drag planes and boats back and forth across the water. People had been knocked out of their boats, never surfacing again.
The lake itself was huge—the largest in the state. It was 80 miles long and 1,000 feet deep in some parts. Scientists speculated natural causes for the monster myths, such as sleeper sharks that adapted to living in fresh water, or orcas, sturgeons, or even seals.
Very’s grad student friend, Caleb, was working near the town of Iliamna that summer at a sport fishing lodge. He had his pilot’s license and would pick us up in his floatplane in Anchorage and take us directly to the lake. That was convenient because we were packing weapons. On a charter flight, no one would x-ray our bags.
I woke up early and made a list of supplies I wanted to pick up in town before we caught our flight. If we found a portal and made it through, we would need to travel a long way to get to the mountains where Uncle Bjorn’s azhdaya was last seen. We would need gear to live off the land, like fishing line and hooks, a tent, sleeping bags, and freeze-dried food. We could hunt and fish for most of our calories, but it would be nice to have grains and vegetables to supplement that.
We wouldn’t have Bard and his energy bolts, so we’d need a lot of matches to make our fires. A first aid kit, too, would be a good idea. I started texting with Very to see what she and Owen were packing and got a few more ideas.
Finally, I heard a knock at my front door and climbed out of bed. Peeking through the peephole, I saw Julian waiting, so I quickly opened the door. My hands went automatically to my messy hair, lifting my sleep shirt high on my thighs.
“Sorry!” I blurted out. “We
re we supposed to meet? I’ve been making lists and I guess I lost track of time.”
Julian focused on my toes and then his eyes slowly traveled up my bare legs, his hands clenching at his sides. I deliberately cocked my hip, flaring the sleep shirt even higher. His gaze lingered at my breasts and I inhaled deliberately. Finally, he focused hot eyes on my face, and turned red.
“No,” he croaked. “You’re not late for anything. I only wanted to compare lists. Cato lent me the car if you want to hit the stores before our flight.”
I backed up and waved him in. “Sure. Go ahead into the kitchen and make some coffee. I’m going to take a quick shower.” I put a deliberate sway into my hips as I walked down the hall. I felt his gaze burning straight through me and was grateful my blushing face pointed away.
When I stepped into the shower a few minutes later though, I felt less thrilled. What did that mean, that he was physically attracted to me, but didn’t want to be with me?
It means nothing good. It means he likes my body, but not me.
That kindled my irritation and I dug my fingers furiously into my soapy scalp. The steamy air started to swirl around me in the shower, spinning with my anger and my magic. He wanted me, fine. I would show him what he was missing.
AN hour later I felt more calm. We had a full cart at the sporting goods store. We’d grabbed spare sturdy clothes and thick socks, food, waterproof matches, a tent, sleeping bags, and fishing hooks. Julian found one of those survival knives, too, that would make a spark if the matches failed. We needed to get back to the duplex if we were going to say goodbye to Cato and Bard before their flight.
We hurried through the line and then loaded the car with our purchases. Then Julian had an epiphany and we both ran inside again. We needed real backpacks to carry all of this gear.
When we finally returned to the house, Cato and Bard were loading their bags into a rideshare to head to the airport. They’d already shipped their weapons ahead to Theo’s family in the Keys. I fell into Bard’s arms and let him hold me tightly. He kissed my forehead and said softly, “Be careful.”
I resisted the urge to cling to him.
I nodded and kissed his cheek. “You too. I’ll see you soon.”
Bard grasped Julian’s shoulder and muttered something to him. I stepped to Cato and put my arm around his shoulders loosely. Recently, he’d been flinching away from my open signs of affection and I wanted to respect his boundaries.
My heart thumped hard though when he pulled me in for a hug. “Don’t worry, Astrid,” was all he said, and then he was in the car and they were driving away.
Their two sunny blond heads were briefly visible in the back seat of the car, bent toward each other. I sent a quick prayer to Mesyats that they would stay safe until I saw them again.
Checking the time, I saw we had only an hour before we needed to meet Very’s friend with the plane. I helped Julian carry everything into the house and then left him to organize our two packs and the weapons bag while I made sandwiches.
Very’s dad, Luke, would drive down and close up the house for us, taking home the food in the fridge and dumping the trash.
I made sure I had my phone charger and toothbrush and then I was ready. I locked up both apartments and left the keys in the Subaru glove compartment. Luke had a spare key.
Our rideshare pulled up and then we were on our way to Lake Hood to meet the floatplane.
“I’ve never been on a floatplane before,” I confessed to Julian. “I’m a little nervous. How will it get going fast enough?”
Julian smiled at me reassuringly. “I’ve never been on one either. But I don’t think you should worry. If something went wrong, with your powers and mine, I think we’d be able to solve any problem.”
I nodded, relieved. That was true. I could easily keep the plane in the sky if we lost power or something like that. I could even make an air shield that would cocoon us in an impenetrable bubble, though it only lasted for about 30 seconds.
Julian had super strength, so if we became trapped underwater, he could free us by ripping the plane apart. I tried to think of other eventualities, my hands clenching and unclenching, until Julian grabbed them. He placed them by my sides and winked at me.
Flustered, I turned to look out my window. Lake Hood was located right next to Anchorage’s main airport and, in the summer, it bustled with floatplane traffic. I’d come out here a few times with my brothers to eat lunch and watch the planes taking off and landing. Supposedly the lake airport was busy in the winter, too, with planes using the long strip of ice; I hoped I was able to see it.
Caleb’s plane looked small and the pilot himself was young, but clean-cut and affable. He greeted us easily and helped Julian move the bags from the Uber to the belly of the plane tied up at the dock.
When we were on board, he gave us headsets to protect our ears and so we could hear each other, and then I braced myself as we took off.
The plane vibrated intensely as we crossed the water, gathering speed. My stomach dropped and then we lifted into the air. Gluing myself to my window, I watched the houses and the lake shrink as we rose higher. The gray buildings of Anchorage vanished quickly as we soared over the huge expanse of inlet water.
I saw white and gray shapes far below us, grabbing Julian’s arm just as Caleb told us to look down and check out the belugas.
I loved the sensation of flying low. I could see the whales and when they disappeared from view, I watched the fishing boats. Then we passed over the mountains. The snow shone white, gray, brown, and blue below us.
We rose higher, the cabin growing cold. Caleb shouted into his headset that these were the northern Aleutians.
The craggy peaks and deep glaciers surrounded us as we dipped and rose with the winds. I felt like I was on top of the world and I couldn’t hold back my grin. The air currents outside were enticingly strong. They called to my magic but I held tightly to my control, not knowing what would happen if I started to play.
Finally, we dropped down into the smaller mountains and foothills. The snow receded and we saw dark blue lakes all around us.
Some of the lakes were perfectly round, which looked strange in the rugged landscape. I pointed a couple of them out to Julian and then Caleb chimed in.
For the past 50 years or so, lakes in Alaska and other arctic regions were exploding due to methane gas, creating round craters in the landscape.
Caleb lectured that, during the last ice age, this whole area was covered by permafrost, or layers of frozen soil and ice. But rising global temperatures were thawing the permafrost for the first time in tens of thousands of years. And when permafrost thaws in a lake bed, it releases a millennia’s-worth of dead plants and animals on the lake floor from their frozen states—then they start to rot.
Tiny microbes eat the dead matter and produce methane gas. In the summer, those methane bubbles rise off the lake surface and up into the atmosphere, but in the winter, they cook under the ice until—boom! The lake explodes.
I exchanged a significant look with Julian. An exploding lake might very well create a portal to Terra Novum, releasing any number of lake monsters into this world.
Finally, we began our descent onto Lake Iliamna. Deep blue-green and shaped like an octopus, the lake had a bulbous head to the west and trailing tentacles to the east. The town we approached, Iliamna, was on the north shore of the lake, about halfway along its body.
Caleb lectured us again as he nosed the plane down toward the water. People first came to the area around Lake Iliamna at the end of the last ice age.
“Mostly everyone speaks English now, but there are still Dena'ina and Yup'ik speakers in the rural areas as well. The town of Iliamna, where we’re heading, is home to Dena'ina, Yup'ik, European American, and people of other ethnic groups.”
The fishing lodge where Caleb worked was fully booked for the summer, but there were some cabins being renovated and not in circulation, so we could use one of those, he told us. We could hike or
take a boat into town, which had a post office and a general store. Mostly though, the area contained fishing lodges, lots and lots of fishing lodges.
An 8-mile gravel road connected Iliamna to the next town on the lake, Newhalen, which was also a fishing tourist hub.
After we landed on the lake and motored up to the dock, Caleb helped us out and we grabbed our bags. The sun was hot overhead and the lake water looked cool and inviting, flashing bright blue in the sunshine.
I listened with half an ear while Caleb talked about the different fish in the lake and Julian asked lots of questions about rods and reels. Our cover was that Julian was unexpectedly in town and wanted to fish, so Very asked around to see if anyone had any last-minute openings. I was glad Julian knew the right questions to ask to sound like a real fisherman. I had no clue.
Caleb led the way to the main lodge, a large, sprawling cabin up on a hill that looked down at the lake, surrounded by towering spruce trees. Tall windows let in the bright sunlight and lit the wooden walls and floors so they glowed a honey brown. Antlers lined the walls and the rustic chairs pointed toward the water. Some were occupied by men drinking beers and telling stories with waving arms and incredulous expressions.
A large dining room ran alongside the main room. The lodge would serve breakfast and dinner every day, and offered bag lunches, too, Caleb said.
It seemed luxurious and simple all at once. I saw mostly older men, though the lodge and guide staff were younger.
Caleb checked us in and then led us around behind the building and down a path into the trees. He told us to make sure we made a lot of noise when we walked back and forth to the lodge; we didn’t want to startle a bear.
Our cabin was small but clean. It had two full beds along opposite walls and a small bathroom with a shower. The linens, covered in salmon and trout prints, were cute, I decided.
Caleb left us to unpack and reminded us dinner was at six.
I left my backpack mostly intact, but pulled out my spare clothes and toiletries. Julian kicked the weapons bag under one of the beds, out of sight.
