by K. Panikian
Julian knew it was his own fault. Of course she wouldn’t want to be around someone who hurt her. He was finding it impossible though, to be in her presence and not confess everything. His feelings. His fears. His desperate hopes.
Resolutely, he turned away from her trim figure and focused on the lake. Ken said that on this stretch between Iliamna and Newhalen, more than five people vanished overboard in the past fifty years. Witnesses reported that the boat would jerk, like it struck something, and then the boat occupant would disappear over the side, never to be seen again.
Pilots had also reported sightings of some kind of strange animal in the waters here—something long, with a bulbous head and an oddly moving tail.
Julian kept his eyes peeled as he motored along. Scanning left and right, and also along the shoreline, he didn’t see anything moving in the water at all.
After a few miles he saw Newhalen ahead. He spun the skiff in a wide arc and headed east again, the boat rocking in its own gentle wake. He did this back and forth trip a handful of times before putting the skiff in neutral. Then he waited, sitting quietly, his senses reaching down into the depths below. His augur powers were almost nil, but sometimes he could See. He strained.
The sound of the water lapping against the skiff’s walls distracted him. It was hot on the aluminum bench. He scanned the surface of the water around him and the sun’s glare pierced his eyes.
Remembering how Very described Seeing the bukavac in Russia, how her senses trailed slowly down into the water until suddenly she felt the demon below her, he tried it. He thought about the surface of the water, how it reflected the azure blue of the sky. He thought about its cool temperature, the way the liquid would feel if he dove in and swam down, how it would be warmer near the surface, and then chillier, and then cold in the depths. He thought about how the bottom was probably full of glacial silt and gravel, little fish, and swaying plants. He waited.
Finally, he blinked. It wasn’t working. He shifted out of neutral and decided to make a few more slow passes. At one point, about halfway between Iliamna and Newhalen, he thought he saw a figure in the trees. He stared hard. Did it have green hair? And then the figure was gone.
Probably a local teenager, he said to himself, or a trick of the light on a thin branch.
Eventually, he gave up. Turning the skiff back toward Iliamna, he hoped Astrid had been more successful digging up local stories.
As he approached the Iliamna docks, he saw her waiting next to a slight woman with short, graying hair. They were watching him and talking. He soaked up the sight of Astrid, her arms crossed in front of her, her legs braced on the rocking dock. Her pale skin glowed in the sunlight and he sucked in a deep breath. He needed to talk to her. His pretension wasn’t working. If he had to be around her any longer without touching her bright hair, her soft, pink lips, or her slim, elegant fingers, he was going to go insane.
All of his reasons to avoid her paled when he stood in her presence, heartsick and afraid.
The other woman turned away and Astrid walked to the boat. She gracefully climbed aboard, giving him a big grin. He could tell she had lots of news.
“Let’s go find a fishing spot,” he told her, “and get something into our cooler so when we return to the lodge, we’ve got a fish to show for our morning out. We can eat and fly fish at the same time.”
“Sure,” she said easily and dropped to the seat, looking out over the lake with a serene expression in her light blue eyes.
Steering the boat around again, Julian aimed for a shallow stream he knew would be a good place to catch spawning fish. He’d noticed the spot earlier, where the stream carried silt into the still lake water and spread out in a fan, before the material dropped to the bottom.
Looking for the ruffled lip where the lake bed dropped, he knew it was the best spot for trout.
He anchored off the fan but still in the current and used a second anchor to keep the boat in position. Pulling open the rod case, he assembled the two fly fishing poles, then handed one to Astrid and picked up the other. He baited the lines with the flies that Ken recommended that morning.
Then standing in the center of the boat, he showed Astrid how to cast the line out and then flick it, back and forth, several times. He left time for the line to sink to the bottom of the fan before slowly winding in the reel so the line furled up through the rippling water.
Astrid watched him interestedly and then stood with her own pole. He showed her again the casting and flicking motions and she copied his movements. She got her line into the fan and they slowly wound up their reels again.
They performed the movements several more times before Astrid asked, “Is this it? We do this over and over until we catch a fish?”
Julian grinned at her. “Basically, yes.”
“Okay, just checking.”
They cast, flicked, and wound in the warm sun.
AN hour later, there were still no fish.
“Okay,” Julian conceded, “maybe this is a bad spot. Do you want to try somewhere else?”
Astrid, who had given up much earlier, looked up from where she was leaning over the edge of the boat and trailing her fingers in the water.
“Not really,” she said. “Can we eat? And I want to tell you what I found out.”
Julian nodded and stowed their rods. Grabbing the two lunch bags from the cooler, he handed one to Astrid, then opened his. Inside, he found a turkey sandwich, an apple, a bottle of water, and a bag of chips.
He was suddenly starving and dug into his sandwich, listening to Astrid making appreciative noises beside him.
Eventually, he felt sated and asked, “Okay, what did you find out? Because I saw absolutely nothing.”
Astrid leaned forward, a smidgeon of mustard on her lip, and relayed everything Josephine told her in an excited voice. When she was done, Julian nodded.
“It sounds like there are two different monsters,” he said. “The lake monster that’s been around since that pond exploded sixty years ago, and another that appeared only two years ago and is targeting fishermen.”
“Yeah, I think so too.” Astrid licked the mustard off her lip and Julian muffled a groan.
“Maybe the lake monster came through in the initial explosion, but the gate is still open, and something else came through a couple of years ago?”
“Yeah,” Julian said slowly, thinking. “So, what do we do? If we assume that pond you saw is the gate, we need to find the key. The whole goal is to get through the portal and find the dragon, not necessarily to kill the lake monster first and solve the missing person mystery.”
Astrid pointed at him. “I agree. But I don’t think we’re getting through the portal without doing both first. The two things are tied to the key, I believe. We should stake out the pond. Eventually, one of the monsters will surface and we can kill it and grab the key.”
Julian nodded. “I think we’re right, but I don’t want to abandon other potentials only for this stagnant pond. Let’s head back to the lodge and talk to Caleb, see if the guides have any gossip about the vanished fishermen over the past two years.”
“Okay.”
“Do you want to try fishing anymore?” Julian asked, stowing their trash in the cooler.
“Not really. But you can, if you want to. I can take a nap. This rocking boat and the sunshine, plus my full stomach… I think I could fall asleep right here on this bench.”
Julian smiled at her and pulled his rod back out. He stood and fished, casting, flicking, and reeling as he watched Astrid nap. At first, she looked uncomfortable, strung out along the bench, but slowly, her limbs relaxed and her head turned to the side. He heard her snore and felt his heart trip. He tucked a towel under her head.
Fishing, he tried to think about what kind of monsters could be in the pond and in the lake. Definitely man-eaters. When his rod jerked in his hand, he almost didn’t notice, he was so intent on his thoughts. Then it jerked again and he reeled it in furiously.
&nbs
p; He must have rocked the boat pretty hard with his motions because Astrid tumbled off her bench onto the floor of the skiff with a crash.
Reeling in a fat rainbow trout, Julian held it aloft just as Astrid blinked up at him from the bottom of the boat, her blue eyes sleepy and unfocused.
He showed her the fish, waving it enthusiastically so that it sprinkled her with lake water, and she sat up, fluttering her hand at him.
“Good job,” she said with a yawn.
He unhooked the fish and dropped it in the bucket, unable to hold back his surprised laugh. He sucked in a deep, satisfied breath. He thought about casting his line again but then checked the time. It was probably time to return to the lodge.
Looking down at Astrid, sprawled on the bench again, Julian felt his heart stutter in his chest again. He dropped beside her and she sat up, startled, as the boat rocked.
“What?” she asked. “Did you see something? Do you have another bite?” She yawned again, right in his face. Her breath smelled like apples.
He kissed her cheek, right next to her lips. He didn’t dare try anything else. Not yet. He needed to talk to her first.
But he couldn’t resist her sunburned, pink skin. He hopped up before she had time to blink and started pulling in the anchors.
After working furiously for a few minutes, he risked a glance at her. She regarded him speculatively, her long legs tucked under her arms, chin on her knees. He shrugged at her helplessly and then turned away again. Sitting by the tiller, he started the motor, steering them back to the lodge.
Chapter 8
Landon steered his skiff through the waters of Lake Iliamna, stewing furiously about his life. He ignored the beautiful, fiery sunset colors, both in the sky and reflected on the lake. The boat motor purred and he thought hard about his choices, or lack thereof.
His girlfriend in Anchorage, Harper, was coming out that weekend to visit him. He hadn’t known she was planning the trip. She’d been busy with her nursing clinics all summer and had already told him she wouldn’t be able to spare the time to come fishing.
But now, suddenly, she had the time and she was coming to visit. He suspected that the rumor mill had finally reached her. All of the guides on the lake were from Anchorage, or Juneau, and the wild nights usually came to roost around August. He hadn’t expected though, with Harper’s busy schedule, that she’d have time to meet up with her girlfriends and listen to the gossip.
His lake hookup, Riley, was not going to handle it well when he told her he had a long-term girlfriend, considering the things he’d said to her at the beginning of the summer about his single status. And if he told Harper not to come, nothing could be more certain to arouse her jealous instincts.
Landon slammed his hand down on the tiller and then leaned into the boat as it rocked in response. All of the other guys had girlfriends that didn’t know anyone else on the lake, so no one knew who was sleeping with whom. But Harper knew everyone, apparently.
He could break up with her, he thought to himself. But when they were in school again together this fall, that would be hard. Harper was seriously hot and built. If he saw her at a party after they broke up, she would not hesitate to torture him. And he would probably end up begging her to take him back. That was unacceptable.
Seriously, they’d been together for two years, and she couldn’t trust him for one summer?
He could brush off Riley. There were only a few weeks left in the summer season. He could go without sex for a few weeks. Probably.
But Riley had such a sweet mouth. She would definitely find another guy in those last weeks of summer. Then he’d be alone in his bunk, listening to one of his buddies hook up with her. Also unacceptable.
Landon slowed his skiff. He was coming into the lodge late, after dropping a client at the Iliamna airstrip, and he’d probably missed dinner. He’d have to settle for leftovers and who liked microwaved fish?
He slammed his hand on the skiff gunwale again and bared his teeth. The smacking sound echoed across the lake.
Hearing a whisper of sound from the shoreline, Landon cut the engine, looking over. A woman stood on the rocky beach, waving at him. She had long dark hair and worea flowy white dress. Her eyes called to him.
Automatically steering toward her, he cut the engine and lifted the outboard out of the water, so the skiff slid onto the gravel beach. Landon hopped onto the sand and walked to the woman. Up close, he could see that her dark hair had a greenish tint. Her hypnotic, dark eyes danced up at him.
Swaying, she closed the distance between them on the beach. In a low, soulful voice she said, “I was hoping you would pass by tonight. I’ve been watching for you.”
Landon stepped nearer to the beautiful woman, his thoughts oddly blank. “I’m here.”
“Yes,” she murmured. They turned and together, pushed the skiff into the lake. She grabbed his hand and then tugged him into the woods. Her hand was cool. The air smelled of decaying things.
Starting to pull back, repulsed, Landon tripped on a root. As soon as his hand was free, Landon felt himself wake up, like from a dream. His eyes cleared and he frowned, looking around.
He turned and there was a beautiful woman beside him. Smiling softly, she brushed her fingers on his chest. Leaning into her touch, Landon sighed. This woman would make him feel better, he knew.
He followed her and when she stopped by a small pond, he cradled her cheek in his hand, his eyes half-lidded and his mouth slack.
“Tell me your secrets,” she whispered to him.
He told her everything. The mess with Harper and Riley; the girl before them who drank too much at the party and then went home with him, and her tears afterward; and even earlier, to his neighbor at home and the Christmas party when their parents stayed out late and he gave her those pills and lured her into the garage.
When he was done reciting his sins, the woman kissed him. She wrapped her slim arms around him, pulling him close. He felt as light as a feather.
He didn’t notice when they fell back into the pond until the water started to close over his head. Starting to struggle, he found himself tangled up in the woman’s dark, green hair.
He tried to grab her arms but she was suddenly very slippery and his hands fell away. The hair dragged him down, down to the bottom of the pond. Water pouring into his mouth, his nose, he shrieked soundlessly in the green and blue glow.
There, as the last air bubbles left his lungs and the small capillaries in his eyes burst, he saw the bones.
Chapter 9
Waking up before Julian the next morning, I rolled over in bed so I could see the shape of him in the next bunk. He slept on his stomach, his arms and legs stretched out like a starfish. He breathed quietly. His face in sleep was relaxed and peaceful.
I didn’t know what to think. He kissed me yesterday. And then we went back to the lodge, had drinks, ate dinner, and stood around the big firepit by the beach for hours, talking to everyone but each other.
I touched my cheek where his lips briefly rested.
I thought about what Josephine said, that he wanted me but he was scared. Was I supposed to coax him along? That didn’t make me feel good.
I would leave it for now, I decided. If he was gathering his courage, he could do it without my help. I still remembered the fire of my embarrassment the last time I threw myself at him.
We’d learned last night from some of the fishing guides at the lodge that there was, in fact, a lot of gossip about the missing people. Apparently none of the missing men were well-liked by the female guides. There were rumors of nonconsensual touches, cheating and sleeping around, and aggression.
If it was a serial killer behind the disappearances, they were targeting a specific type of man. But how did Grace, who by all accounts was a nice person, tie into it?
Or if it was a second portal monster, like we were predicting, why would it target certain hypermasculine personalities like that? Maybe the womanizing was only a coincidence? That type of aggr
essive man was probably more prone to risky behavior already, to going where he shouldn’t, pushing boundaries, and thinking nothing bad would happen to him.
I’d showered last night after we got back from the bonfire. My hair had smelled like smoke, fish, and lake water.
Sneaking out of bed, I slowly got dressed, trying to avoid the creaky planks on the floor of the cabin. I brushed my teeth silently and then carefully eased the front door open, slipping outside. I tore a page out of my sketchbook and wrote a note to Julian, leaving it under a rock on the porch.
CALEB took me to Iliamna a little while later and called out, as he steered his skiff away, “Josephine can phone the lodge when you’re ready to return, and someone will come get you!”
I nodded and waved at him, then headed up the swaying dock.
When I walked into Josephine’s shop, she sat behind the counter reading a paperback, with glasses perched on the end of her nose. She looked up at the bell, smiling, and her black eyes twinkled. She clapped her book down.
“Perfect timing,” she said happily. “I was about to leave without you!” She stood and walked around the counter, then called into the backroom, “I’m heading to the patch! Mind the counter!”
A young woman’s voice agreed and we went out the front door to the four-wheeler again. Josephine handed me my helmet and then strapped a couple of lidded buckets to the back of the machine.
We headed west down the gravel road and then up another unmarked trail, climbing the wooded slope. I looked around interestedly, wondering where we were going. Josephine pulled off the trail and stopped the four-wheeler. We left the helmets and grabbed the two empty buckets. Then Josephine led the way into the undergrowth.
