“That is a beauty,” Ryan says. His blue eyes are practically sticking out of his head when he sees the arrows. “You guys are certified, right?” And I quickly say yes before it becomes an issue.
“Our father was an expert archer,” Kurt says. He holds the brass bow, which looks light as a feather as he weighs it against his palms. “He made this for me.”
Thalia doesn’t join them and instead stays sitting between me and Layla. “You’re not going to try?” I ask.
“I find that it might hurt Ryan’s human ego if I were to best him.” She leans back on her palms. Even knowing what she is, she is a wondrous sight. Her hair is free and flowing around her face with a life of its own. She crosses her legs and wiggles her ankles so that the glitter of her slippers catches the stadium lights. I wonder if she misses her fins. I’ve only changed a few times, and already something deep inside me is urging me to find a river, or even a bathtub, and sink in.
“I very much miss Atticus,” Thalia sighs. “But I like it here. Don’t tell Kurt.”
“He looks like he’s having more fun than he’d like to admit,” Layla says. I follow her eyes to where Kurt is taking aim.
“Kurtomathetis wouldn’t know how to have fun if it were pulling on his fishtails.”
I laugh hard at that. I bet Kurt can hear what we’ve said, because when he lets his arrow go, it misses Principal Quinn’s picture and hits the outer ring.
Ryan gets a bull’s-eye on the picture of Mr. Van Oppen. Thalia shrieks and claps her hands. The other guys go, one by one. Some of them get close, but none of them are as accurate.
Jerry throws his arms up, letting the school’s bow and arrow fall to the ground. “This is whack! I’m going to check on the freshman lunch period, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, all your little boyfriends are waiting,” Angelo calls out after him, and is answered by Jerry’s middle finger. Bertie isn’t too far behind Jerry after he fails for the umpteenth time at getting his arrow to go anywhere other than the grass.
“Know what?” Layla goes, pushing herself up, her arm brushing against mine and sending pinpricks down my spine. “I’m gonna go play with sharp objects too.” She runs up to Kurt, who shows her how to stand, his hand carefully guiding her hands into position. He whispers something to her, and she smiles. She lets go and hits Ms. Pippen right at the center of her third eye. Layla jumps up and down and throws her arms around Kurt’s neck.
“She’s lovely, you know.” Thalia nods at her.
“Who?”
“You know who. Layla. Duh?”
“Yeah, well.” I grab a handful of the fake grass and pull hard on it. “This whole Maddy thing isn’t going to make me look like Champion of the Year in her eyes.”
“If I’ve learned anything by watching human interaction, it’s that they’re always angry at the person they feel they love. It’s easier to feel anger than love. Love makes people sick. Anger just consumes you so you think you’re not feeling anything.”
“What about mermaid love?”
“Mer-kin, maybe all immortals, don’t necessarily fall in love. Forever is awfully long, and the oceans are vast. You never know who will, how do you say, rock your boat?”
“Maybe that’s why I have the reputation of being a man-slut.”
“Surely, it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re also a sixteen-year-old foot-fin.”
She cups her hands around her mouth and hollers when Ryan gets another bull’s-eye. He drops his bow and arrow. He runs over to us, gets down on his knees, and kisses Thalia on her sweet full mouth. At first she’s surprised. Hell, I’m surprised. So is everyone who’s looking at them from the bleachers. A camera flash goes off somewhere. Layla giggles behind her hands, and some of the guys whistle with their fingers. All except for Kurt, who shakes his head disapprovingly.
Thalia rests her hands around Ryan’s face, bringing him in, and neither of them seems to notice the crowds. I want to look away, but it’s not like anyone’s been kissing me lately. I glance at Layla to see if maybe she’s looking at me, but her face is tilted to the sky, where a gray patch of clouds is floating over us. When I relax my eyes, the clouds look like grizzly bears. I shut my eyes to get Elias’s face out of my head.
Just then Ryan stumbles out of their kiss. “Cool. Okay. Good.” He jogs back to the targets with a new strut.
“Tristan.” Thalia bites her bottom lip. “Will you make me a promise?”
“What is it?”
“Will you let me stay? If you’re king? Would you let me stay here like Aunt Maia did? I could never ask anyone else.”
A king keeps his promises, my grandfather told me. I guess I should be careful of the promises I make.
A fat drop of rain hits me right in the eye. The knot in my stomach that started in homeroom is growing with the darkening gray clouds. I point at the sky. “I thought that wasn’t supposed to happen anymore.”
She stands with her hands over her eyes like visors. “It isn’t. Something is wrong.” She breathes in long and deep. “Do you smell it?”
I smell damp air. Mist rises around us. Clouds roll in front of the sun, and everything inside me turns. Just like before the first storm, the first wave.
Angelo is the first to run past me, yelling something about his hair and how he’ll see us losers back in the lunchroom. Ryan holds out his hands and cries out with excitement. It’s something that comes from deep inside him, as if he’s waking up for the first time.
The sky turns black, the wind pushing the clouds fast across the sky. The only light comes from the stadium lights and the lightning cracking open the sky. Car alarms go off all along the block. For a moment, it feels like the earth is shaking around us, but it’s actually the metal fence around the field that’s shaking.
I grab Layla by the shoulders. “Please go inside. Please.”
“What’s wrong? What’s happening?”
Thalia’s glamour is fading slightly, or maybe she’s just green with sickness as her yellow-green eyes widen at what they see. She points at the other end of the field. “There!”
Three of the ugliest creatures I’ve ever seen are ripping the fence open. Damp air mingles with the scent of sea sludge, like a manhole just threw them up into the street. The tallest one has the head of a hammerhead shark on the body of a human. Yellow eyes glow on either side of his head. His gills open at the touch of rain, and a smile like crushed glass grins right at me. Beside him is a creature that is blue from head to webbed feet. His elbows end in long red spikes, and his mouth opens to rows of canines. The smallest one of the three is round with the head of a blowfish whose cheeks constantly puff in and out.
Kurt takes aim with his arrow and shoots before I can even blink. The creatures are fast, and Kurt only grazes the blue one in the arm. They jump high and scatter around us.
“Layla, please do as I say!” I fumble to unzip my backpack for my dagger.
“No!” Kurt shouts over me.
“What do you mean no?”
“They’ll follow her. Chase her. They’re fast, whatever they are.”
“You mean you don’t know?”
The round one shows himself in front of us. He breathes hard and puffs his body out. Shit.
“Get behind the targets!”
I pull Layla down, shielding her with my body behind the wooden target. The needles hit like darts into the wood.
“Lord Sea, stay down,” Kurt says. “Thalia, aim!”
She reaches for a bow, stands quickly, and lets the arrow fly.
Ryan has his back against the target. “What the hell! What the hell are they?”
I peek around the target ring. They’re just standing in the shadows waiting, like this is a game.
“Ryan,” Kurt says as he kneels and pulls his arrow into place. “You can hit them. Go on. On my count. One.”
“Two.”
Thalia’s hands tremble as they search her backpack. She pulls out two slender daggers and throws one
to Layla, who catches it in midair.
“She can’t fight.” My voice is frantic, and I hardly recognize it. This is not how a champion should sound.
“She has to.”
Layla pulls the dagger out of the sheath and holds it up, her knuckles with a vise grip on it. She nods surely. This isn’t like fencing during spring recess. This is something else, something we’ve never faced before.
“Three!” Kurt and Ryan shoot. The creatures spread out instantly, howling as Ryan’s arrow pierces the hammerhead in the arm. The creature howls in pain, but just for a moment, before pulling the arrow out with one tug, dripping black blood and red flesh.
“Holy shit!” Ryan says, holding his chest as if to keep his heart from coming out.
I want to tell him it’ll be okay, but even I don’t know that. As Kurt yells something over the thunder, the creatures charge right at us. I shove Layla out of the way, so the blue creature pushes the target on top of me. The ground is muddy and wet. I slip when I try to push the wooden target off me. The blue one does it for me. He pulls the red spikes out of his skin and stabs at the grass around me. I kick his gut with the full force of my legs, roll over, and reach for my dagger.
Up close, his eyes are dirty yellow. His permanent smile reveals bloody gums. He raises his fists in the air and brings them down hard on the ground, shaking the field right under me. I swing and catch him on the side, and he winces. The barnacles around his neck suck at the air like suction cups. Layla runs around us, and as he reaches out with his spikes, she brings the dagger down through his back.
The creature’s body shakes, and black blood dribbles out of his mouth. The body goes limp over me and falls slack on the ground. I take his red spikes and stab him through the chest to make sure he stays there.
“Where are the other two?” I push myself off the ground.
More car alarms go off after another blast of thunder. The few students who didn’t make it inside are screaming behind the bleachers. Up inside the school, crowds are gathered at the windows.
Kurt and Ryan hold their arrows at the ready. The five of us stand in the middle of the field. The other two are still out there. I breathe in air heavy with their stink.
“There!” I turn and the guys let their arrows fly up at the fence where the hammerhead has climbed. He ducks to the right and jumps on the ground and charges at me. For all their strength and speed, they’re really uncoordinated and stupid. His yellow eyes are focused on me and only me. I punch him with all my strength; my knuckles come away bloody from the sharp scales of his cheekbones. I slash my dagger out with both hands, but he jumps back from every swing.
Kurt’s voice thunders over the car alarms, the screams, and the clapping thunder. “Tristan, get down!”
I throw myself on the ground as he takes one clean shot. The creature falls backward with Kurt’s arrow pierced right through his throat. A guttural wail sounds through the field. Layla runs up to me and helps me stand. She takes my hand and examines it where my knuckles are cut open. “It’s just a surface scrape.”
Ryan stands over the blue guy’s body. He taps it with his foot. It doesn’t move. He bends down and uses the tip of an arrow to prod at the still body. “What are these things?” He jumps back as the body convulses and then starts to decompose into the grass, stinking of rotting fish.
“Ugh, that’s disgusting.”
“Let’s get back inside,” I say, holding my hand out for Layla to grab. She raises the dagger in the air so the rain will wash away the slick, black blood on the edges. Kurt’s violet eyes are luminous in the darkness. I wonder if mine look the same way. I can tell he’s still listening for the other creature, because I am too.
Thalia stands nervously just inside the gate leading back inside the building. Her voice is small as her eyes flicker around the field. She pushes her wet hair away from her eyes. “Come, Ryan.”
He cups his hands at the sky and lets the rain pool in them, then washes the black blood off with it. He walks toward the entrance with his blue eyes focused on Thalia. His face registers shock as Kurt raises his bow and arrow at him. Kurt’s face is stone. Ryan holds his hands up in the air.
“What are you doing?” I yell at Kurt. But then I see what he’s doing. The arrow is pointed past Ryan to where the third creature, the blowfish, stands a few feet behind our friend.
“Ryan,” Kurt says. He raises his arrow a little higher. “Don’t. Move.”
I don’t know what I can do with just a dagger. If I throw it at the creature, I could very well miss and stab my friend. I do know that none of these creatures want my friends. They want me.
And before I can say duck, before I can even raise my dagger, the creature puffs out his face and snaps his neck in my direction.
I raise my hands to cover my face, and my entire body is a scream as Layla jumps in front of me, arms wrapped around my neck, mouth open in a pained gasp as the needles pierce her back.
The rain beats hard against my neck.
Layla’s eyes are wide and staring right at me. She’s still standing. I’m afraid to hold her too tightly.
Behind us the creature falls, an arrow pierced though his throat. Layla’s knees bend. She says my name. The thunder is loud, and the rain is like pellets against the ground, but I know she says my name. Her weight goes slack, and I keep my hands under her arms to try to keep her up.
“Help me.” I don’t know if I’ve actually said it.
Their footsteps splash against the ground. Thalia is at my side, helping me lay Layla facedown on the ground.
“Do something,” I say. I look up at Kurt, who stands over me. Doing nothing. He could’ve shot sooner. Why did he hesitate? Why did I just stand there?
“There’s too much poison,” he says helplessly.
I take my dagger and, as gently as I can, rip the thin cotton of her T-shirt. The needles go right through it, and I can’t take the shirt off without hurting her. I drop my blade on the ground. Run my hands through my hair. Press against my skull as if I can make all of this go away. Thalia is pulling out the spikes and sobbing at the same time. Layla’s back is like a dark board of tiny red dots where blood pools out and is washed away just as quickly by the rain.
My knees are raw from kneeling on the turf. I hold her hand in mine, but there’s no pressure, no weight. My body is cold. My skin is numb in the rain.
“That’s all of it,” Thalia says, holding out a handful of black needles. They’re slick and black and don’t look like much.
“Wake up,” I whisper in Layla’s ear. I flip her over in my arms so that I can look at her again. I never used to understand what people meant when they said they felt small against the rest of the world. But I do now. Her body is motionless in my arms. Her lips are purple. Her eyelids are wet. She looks the same way she did when she was sleeping in my chambers on the island, when we’d fall asleep in my living room when we were littler, when we’d lie out on the beach at noon and I’d wear my black sunglasses so she wouldn’t see that I was looking at her. Something inside me breaks over and over again, and I don’t know how to stop it.
“Tristan.”
The rain stops. The clouds push away. I can feel the warmth of the sun against my skin. When I open my eyes, it’s still dark out. The light isn’t coming from the sky; it comes from Layla. The necklace my grandfather gave her glows under her shirt. No harm can come to you by me or mine, he’d said.
Her lips move again. “Tristan.”
She smiles at me, and I try not to hug her too hard. I’m about to say something, anything, when a rough voice cuts through the field and yells, “Hands in the air!”
At the entrance of the field are maybe half a dozen cops. The creatures have completely washed away. The targets are all split into pieces; there’s a huge hole at the gate and arrows all over the grass.
The officer repeats himself, and this time they all cock their guns.
An EMT drapes an itchy blanket around my shoulders. I’m shirtless
with a bandage around my ribs, where apparently two of them are broken.
The rain has stopped, except for the thin sheet of mist that clings low to the ground. The EMT hands me a cup of black coffee. I shake my head at the bitter hotness that burns my tongue.
Detective Donovan has his hands in his leather jacket, nodding periodically as the hysterical girls give him their versions of what happened. Regular, end-of-the-year fun. Three monsters break through the fence. The girls giving their witness accounts point at me. Detective Donovan comes over to me, finally.
“Hurts?” He nods at my bandaged hand.
“No,” I lie, and squeeze it for show.
“Are you up to giving a statement?”
“Like the girls said,” I tell him. “We were hanging out on the field. These guys just came through the fence. Attacked. We tried to fight them off, and they went away.”
“Guys?” The question lingers as he chews his gum. “The other students say they were creatures. That they looked like sharks and”—he stops himself, because he might just be too professional to even utter this—“creatures from the blue lagoon.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s the black lagoon,” I say, regretting my smart mouth. “I think they had masks on.”
“The girls say that they melted into the rain.”
I shake my head, thankful that Ryan had been smart enough to put our weapons away for us, thankful that Layla was alive in my arms. She’d just left with her parents, wearing my shirt because we had to rip hers. “It happened so fast. They ran away after they heard the sirens.”
I can smell Detective Donovan’s doubt and his irritation, like dirt in my mouth.
“You kids involved in some kind of gang activity?”
“No, sir.”
“You don’t go here, do you, son?” He turns to Kurt. Thalia sits beside her brother. The blanket slips from her shoulders and onto the floor. No one moves to pick it up.
The Vicious Deep Page 18
