Ice Crypt (Mermaids of Eriana Kwai Book 2) (10 page)

I spent the morning scrubbing slime from the side of the house, fighting spider webs and overgrown Ravendust bushes. Despite what my parents had said, my mother was obviously punishing me. Ravendust, unique to Eriana Kwai, had tar-black leaves that stained skin, and roots so thick I was sure even a mermaid would have a hard time pulling them up.

The afternoon’s plans loomed ahead. I had to be crazy to risk facing mermaids again. But I had to explore the shoreline. Searching the safe, comfortable library had gotten us nowhere.

With each thrust of the wire brush, I thought of all of the people I owed this to. Warriors who didn’t need to die. Others who could still be saved. Eyrin. Linoya. Holly. Shaena. Adette. Anyo. Nilus. Lysi.

Lysi.

Lysi.

I scrubbed harder, sweat beading on my face. I kept going until my dead crewmates, the girls in training and their families, Lysi and her family—even those I didn’t know by name—were all a part of the rhythm, filling me with purpose.

By the time I made it around the perimeter, my arms were ready to give out. I hauled myself to my feet with a groan like a bear trying to knock a tree over.

Overhead, a sliver of sun peeked through the clouds. Noon. Annith and Tanuu would be waiting for me any moment.

I’d just washed my hands—a several-minute ordeal—when someone knocked on the door.

I opened it to see Blacktail, ears sticking out from a high ponytail, a typically solemn expression on her face.

“Heard you got caught stealing.”

I blinked. “Hi, Blacktail.”

She crossed her arms. “Why did you want weapons?”

I glanced over my shoulder. My parents were still cleaning the shed. Waving her inside, I shut the door softly behind us. “How did you know?”

“My father’s the constable.”

“Right.”

“So what’s going on?”

I hesitated. “Are Annith and I going to be punished?”

“Don’t be stupid. Dani never got punished.”

I let out a breath. “That’s what my parents said, too.”

Blacktail waited, arms crossed.

“This isn’t really … I can’t explain it,” I said.

“I want to help.”

I studied her earnest face.

“You can’t, Blacktail. I’m sorry. This is dangerous.”

“I gathered, or you wouldn’t need iron weapons. Come on. I’ll be useful.”

I considered. Blacktail was smart, good with a crossbow, and the only other Massacre survivor I trusted. I might have trusted Fern, but she was friends with Blondie, and Blondie had been in allegiance with Dani on the Massacre.

“I kept my iron dagger,” said Blacktail, motioning to the hidden waistband of her jeans. “Told them I’d lost it.”

“Why do you want to help so badly?”

“I don’t think the Massacres should continue, either. Whatever plan you have, it has to be better than sending girls out to deal with … that.”

I chewed my lip. Her skill and the iron dagger would be useful on the beach. Besides, she had stuck with me on the Massacre during times when I didn’t even have Annith.

“All right,” I said. “Yes. We could use your help.”

I invited her into the kitchen, cautioning her to keep our conversation low so my parents wouldn’t hear.

“I’m meeting Annith and Tanuu in …” I glanced at the old clock on the wall. “… ten minutes.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Your boyfriend is coming?”

I busied myself making a sandwich. “He helped us break into the training base.”

“It’s not a good idea,” she whispered. “If a mermaid comes at us, he’s most at risk.”

I shook my head. “He’s not going to sit back while three girls go out and put themselves in danger.”

“We’re capable!”

“It’s not about that. It’s chivalry. That’s Tanuu. Want a sandwich?”

She shook her head.

“Tomato and basil on bannock,” I said, waving it under her nose. “If you close your eyes it almost tastes like pizza.”

Her eyes widened. “Where’d you get basil?”

“Our garden. The tomato is still a little green, but it’s good.”

“Sold. Thanks.”

I sliced a biscuit lengthwise. “Someday I want to learn to cook properly. For now, it’s fake pizza.”

“Better than my lunches. I’ll puke if I see another dandelion leaf salad.”

Sandwiches in hand, we left the house. I shouted goodbye to my parents from across the yard and disappeared before they could say anything.

We retrieved the two crossbows and ammo from my tree fort, and set off down the hill. We stuck to the bush in case a neighbour came up the road and saw us with a bunch of weapons.

As I explained our plan to find the Host, Blacktail asked the same unanswerable questions as Tanuu.

“To sum up, we know nothing about it,” I said.

“Wish I had something helpful for you,” said Blacktail.

“You think the shoreline is a good place to start looking?”

She thought for a moment. “We might find something on Skaaw Beach or in a cliff face. Is it low tide?”

“Yes.”

We arrived to find Annith and Tanuu already waiting at the side of the road.

“Blacktail!” said Annith.

“What’s she doing here?” said Tanuu.

I raised my eyebrows, wondering where the rudeness came from.

Blacktail grinned at Annith, ignoring Tanuu. “If it isn’t the other lawbreaker.”

Annith groaned. “Does the whole island know?”

“Not sure about the rest of the island, but I have my sources.”

Tanuu scoffed.

The three of us turned to him.

“Oh, please,” said Blacktail with uncharacteristic iciness. “You’re still on about that?”

“My father could’ve lost his hunting license.”

“But he didn’t.”

“What if he had? My family aren’t the only ones that woulda starved—”

“He should have thought of that before he trespassed.”

I stepped between them. “Guys! Cool it.”

They recoiled in alarm, and I realised I was brandishing a crossbow. I dropped it.

“Blacktail’s going to help us,” I said. “Let’s forget about whatever issues we have, and … and focus on what matters.”

Blacktail and Tanuu eyed daggers at each other across my outstretched hands, but they nodded stiffly.

I glanced to Annith, who mirrored my bewilderment. I didn’t know Blacktail and Tanuu had ever spoken, never mind had a beef with each other.

After a silence, Annith said, “What’ve we got for weapons?”

The others dropped their weapons next to mine, forming a pile. We had two crossbows, ammo, Blacktail’s dagger, and the poker from Tanuu’s fireplace.

“Who gets the good crossbow?” I said.

I looked up to find the three of them staring at me.

“You, obviously,” said Annith, picking up the defective crossbow.

 Blacktail slid the dagger back through her belt, nodding. “You’re the best shot.”

“Plus,” said Tanuu, brandishing the fire iron like a sword, “I have a better chance of fending off a demon with an old-fashioned beating stick. My aim with a crossbow sucks.”

“That inspires confidence,” said Blacktail.

Tanuu glared at her. “I have a good swing. I play baseball.”

“Baseball won’t help when a mermaid tries to lure you.”

“If you’re trying to get me to volunteer to stay back—”

“You don’t have the proper training. Besides, men are vulnerable to the allure. You shouldn’t be coming.”

“He’s not going to listen, Blacktail,” I said. “Persistence is his most endearing quality.”

She huffed. “If he gets hauled into the water, it’s on you.”

“Fair enough,” said Tanuu. He thrust the fire iron into the air. “To the beach!”

Annith and I slung the crossbows over our chests and stuffed ammo in our pockets. My pants sagged under the weight.

I led us downhill towards the beach, peeling away from the main trail.

Behind me, Blacktail moved in silence, her small body gliding through the deer path. “Any hunches about what the Host actually is?”

“I bet it’s a giant seahorse,” said Tanuu. “And Adaro wants to ride it into battle.”

“That,” said Blacktail, “is the stupidest thing I have ever heard.”

“Well, what do you think it is?”

She considered for a minute and then said, “A kraken.”

“Ew, it better not be,” said Annith. “Can you imagine octopus suckers the size of your face?”

I had, plenty of times. I hoped the Host was nothing like that.

“It could be a spirit. Like the spirit of Eriana,” said Blacktail.

I shook my head. “Adaro called it a pet. It must be a living creature.”

But it was an interesting theory, a break from the various animals I’d been imagining. How much did Adaro know? Could the Host actually be something inanimate?

We came to a ravine, where a fallen hemlock acted as a bridge. Ferns crowded the foot of the log. I pushed them away with the crossbow, clearing a path for us to cross on our hands and feet like monkeys.

“Maybe it’s a giant anglerfish,” said Tanuu.

“Gross,” said Annith. “Stop being so pessimistic. It could be something beautiful, like a water fairy.”

The sound of the ocean met my ears. Light poured in ahead, indicating the edge of the forest. I stomped through some saplings towards it, grateful I’d worn shoes this time.

We emerged to find a thick layer of driftwood.

I stopped. A salty breeze blew wisps of hair around my face. I’d been too distracted by the conversation to note why the path to the beach felt so automatic.

There was the tide pool where Lysi and I used to tackle each other—and beyond it, the place where Lysi had been shot by the crossbow now slung across Annith’s chest.

My throat tightened. How many times had Lysi and I met on this beach? Would we ever meet here again?

Tanuu was staring at the grounded fishing boat. “Yikes.”

Out of habit, I had averted my eyes from the ghostly sight. Mermaids had killed the sailors on board and the boat washed onto our shores, never to be touched again.

Annith must have seen something in my expression, because her gaze never left the side of my face.

“We’ll go this way,” I said, stepping through the driftwood. “We can check the cliff face on the way to Skaaw.”

Blacktail craned her neck. “We’re below your house?”

“Yes. That’s east. Haida Gwaii is over there.”

I pointed across the empty water with an iron bolt, where the Canadian land mass would have been visible if we were up higher and the sky wasn’t so cloudy.

The others scanned the cliff face, eyes following every crack in the stone. I removed the crossbow from my chest, cranked the lever, and dropped a bolt against the shaft.

“Keep your eyes open for anything out of place. Anything that looks like it could be manmade, or—”

“A giant neon arrow that says
This Way to the Host
,” said Tanuu.

We started along the pebbled beach, staying as far from the shoreline as we could. We searched as we walked, heads swivelling between the cliff face and the water.

Outside the dense forest, the waves were the only sound. I listened to the way they roared towards us then trickled back. Every pebble had an influence on the water, giving each wave a unique song.

Blacktail frowned at the rocky face towering over us. “It’s grim down here.”

“Something about the water,” said Annith. “It’s so …”

“Empty,” said Tanuu.

I said nothing. With the entire underwater world stretching before us, existing so far beyond what our eyes could see, I felt anything but empty.

“I’ve been having nightmares since we got back,” said Annith. “This sound is always the background.”

I’d also been having nightmares. But the ocean was never the villain.

We trekked across the beach until my hips protested from the slanted surface and my ears rang from the wind. After an hour, we arrived at a stretch piled with too much driftwood to climb over. Behind it, a steep slope led up to the tall, bald trees that had been pushed backwards from constant wind. Getting around the driftwood meant either climbing the bank, or edging dangerously close to the water. We opted for the bank.

Finding no secret cave entrances, we rounded the next bend in the shoreline, where the cliff rose again. The beach narrowed. Our path became a slab of solid rock no wider than an arm span.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” said Annith.

Both light and dark lines decorated the cliff face—millions of years of layers reminding me how ancient the island was. It gave me hope that at least one secret had yet to be discovered.

At least thirty eagles flew in slow circles above the cliff top. I scanned the water with a tightened grip on my crossbow.

“Keep your weapon between you and the water,” said Blacktail.

Tanuu was the only one carrying his weapon in the wrong hand. He switched his grip on the fire iron. “If the cliff attacks me, I’m blaming you.”

We hopped over a stream between two boulders, continuing along the narrow passage in single file, our backs to the cliff.

“Good thing we waited for low tide,” said Tanuu. “This path would be—ARGH!”

A wave broke against the cliff, Tanuu catching the worst of the spray.

Annith wiped salt from her eyes. “More of those will be coming.”

Water bubbled out of several fissures in the cliff. I followed a deep one with my eyes, upwards until I couldn’t see it anymore. It seemed likely that one of these fissures could open to a cave—but how would we get to it? Would we need to scale the cliff, or lower ourselves from the top?

Tanuu followed my gaze, and then poked his fire iron into the gap. It went in halfway before hitting solid rock. “Nope.”

“Look out!” said Blacktail.

I whirled around with my crossbow ready. She’d crouched, iron dagger over her head like a harpoon. I followed her gaze with my weapon, but the water was empty.

“I saw hair,” she said, breathless. “Light. Reddish.”

“Sure it wasn’t seaweed?” said Tanuu.

Blacktail snarled like a dog. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“She probably sees our iron,” said Annith.

We stayed facing the water for a minute, weapons up. Nothing surfaced.

Blacktail stood. “Let’s keep going. I don’t like this. We’re trapped between a rock and a dead place.”