Lies Beneath (8 page)

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breath as my lungs would allow and exhaled all the emotion out of my body. “Take my hand,” I said. “I’ll help you down.” Lily looked at it hesitantly, then slowly slipped her hand into mine. It was unexpectedly warm. I wrapped my fingers around hers, which sent a strange electricity of its own shooting up my arm. I glanced at Lily, but she didn’t seem to feel it.

“Watch your step,” I said. She found her footing and we edged our way down, about eight feet, to an iron- colored rock that jutted out into the lake, about ten feet above the water level. The rock was pockmarked with natural indentations that were full of old rainwater now warm from days of sun. Microscopic insects skated across the surface of the pools.

“Oh, this is so cool,” she said. “It’s so wild . . . and primal. . . .”
“Definitely wild,” I said, “but it gets cooler. Lie down and look over the edge. There are sand martins roosting in holes in the sandstone.”
I wasn’t trying to be hypnotic in any way, yet she followed my lead. Was she responding to me or the scenery? She gripped the edge of the rock with her fingertips and brought her chin past its edge.
“I can’t see anything,” she said.
“You can’t?” I lay down beside her, my shoulders extending past the edge of the rock, and curled around the edge to see. “You probably have to lean out more.” Lily pushed herself out farther and bent her head. She wriggled forward a little more, and then there was an intake of breath and her back muscles tensed. Before I realized what was happening,

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she was toppling over the edge and falling into the freezing water below.

I looked up, and Maris stood over me, peering down into the concentric circles that marked the spot where Lily had disappeared.

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11

CHANGING PLANS

“W hat the hell?”
I jumped to my feet. “You pushed her?” I looked desperately around for something to reach down to Lily. But there was nothing long enough. Panic gripped my thighs. “What do I do?”

“Do?” Maris looked at me with incredulity. “What are you talking about? You were looking to make a rescue . . . so rescue her.”

“Geez, Maris. In the freaking water? Are you insane? We had a plan. Sophie is our girl, remember?”
The lake was onyx, with patches of flinty gray where the

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sun hit it. We peered over the edge of the cliff, looking down into the black chops. Directly below us, the water churned into a butter- colored froth against the cliff edge.

Lily came up with an audible gasp. I could feel the cold piercing her skin. She reached behind her head with one shaking hand and came away with blood. Maris and I took a big step back from the edge so she wouldn’t see us.

“H- help! S- s- someone! Calder!” Lily called.

My muscles tightened at the sound of my name on her lips. “I can’t get in the water with her.” Maris knew that. I growled with frustration, “I haven’t had the chance to build up any tolerance to the lake yet. I won’t be able to hold back the change.”

“Fine. We’ll wait it out.” Maris looked up at the clouds. “She’ll be dead in a few minutes anyway.” Maris sat down on the rock. “Maybe this will be even better. You can carry both of his children home— one dead, the other clinging to life.” She seemed to play the scene out in her mind, and I could see she liked it.

A trawler sped by, close to shore but not seeing the girl in the water. It created an onslaught of waves that battered Lily against the jagged edge of the rock. She was pinned to it, then sucked back, only to be slammed into the rock again. Another wave lifted her up and smashed her right cheek against the cliff.

There was nothing for her to grab. There was nothing to put her foot on. Clouds roiled overhead.
A half second later my phone was at my ear. “Pavati, has Tallulah done anything yet?” I exhaled. “Well, don’t. . . . You heard me. We’ve got a big problem.
I’ve
got a big problem,” I

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corrected. “Just bring the little girl straight home. I’ll explain later. . . . Pavati? Are you listening to me?”

There was a “Yes” on the other end just as my phone beeped. Out of minutes. I chucked it into the woods.
There were no more screams from the water. I peered over the edge. Lily was vertical in the water, her arms extended, head tipped back. Her face went under, then resurfaced, only to dip under the waterline again. She exhaled and inhaled quickly with each resurfacing.
“Oh, man, I can’t believe I’m doing this.” I said, stripping off my clothes.
“You’re going in, then?” Maris asked, her voice bored.
“What choice do I have?”
We could both hear the “He- he- heh” of Lily’s desperate intakes and exhales. She couldn’t get the oxygen necessary for an effective plea. She didn’t have much time. I desperately hoped there would be no one else on the path this close to a storm. The last thing I needed was spectators.
I stood naked at the edge of the cliff and closed my eyes, my lips rolled inward. I wasn’t sure what I was waiting for— maybe something to convince me this was the stupidest thing I’d ever done. I’d never transformed in the water near a human I intended to release. As far as I knew, none of us had. If this was going to work, she couldn’t see me, and Lake Superior was notoriously clear.
The anticipatory tingling crept through my body, starting in my toes, then spreading upward and inward. It rode roughshod over my carefully cultivated self- control until my internal organs rammed around like bumper cars at the fair. The electrical flow was so strong, my hair stood up on my head.

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“Get it together, Calder,” Maris said as she examined her fingernails. “You hit the water with that many volts and you’re going to zap every fish within a hundred feet. It’ll be fish floats all over the place, and it probably won’t help the girl, either.”

I took one last look over the edge. Lily was gone. I exhaled, blowing all the electricity out of me and into the air. It fizzed in the humidity. When I felt only a dull numbness, I dove.
A strangely smooth feeling came over me as I soared through the air. When I hit the black water, it was with such precision that it was like being threaded through a needle.
Down, down, at least three fathoms, until my hands touched sand. I opened my eyes and swam back toward the rock. I thrashed as the change happened, then beat my tail even more to stir up the sandy bottom. If I couldn’t resist the change, at least I could make it more difficult for her to see me, but clouding the water made it harder for
me
to find
her.
I followed her scent, turning in a circle, my head meeting my tail. I crisscrossed my arms in front of me, feeling for something that didn’t belong.
When I struck something long but soft— not a branch, but an arm— I turned her around to face me. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slack. Pallid yellow particles floated in the water that filled her mouth. She was already gone.
I rocketed toward the surface, leaping twelve feet out of the water and landing on the rock better than any trick whale at SeaWorld.
Maris looked over without expression.
Grit from the rock stuck to Lily’s face and bare shoulders.

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I pressed my lips to hers and blew. Nothing happened. I blew again. And then again. She gagged and choked, then spewed a fountain of water. My silver tail thrashed violently against the rock. Maris stepped over me and threw her jacket over Lily’s face. She didn’t need to see the monster convulsing beside her.

I rolled onto my back as my heart beat out a syncopated, lurching rhythm. Gritting my teeth while my skin tightened and ripped, I groaned in agony, trembling like an epileptic and sucking blood off my lip, as my tail split and morphed into human legs.

Maris didn’t watch as I stood up and yanked on my pants. She stood coolly over the girl who was still motionless on the rock.

“Lily.” I whipped the jacket off her face and shook her. “Are you okay? Oh, man. Lily.”
Her skin was as pale and translucent as her ivory tank top. A red line trickled from a gash on her cheekbone, and her lips, slightly parted, were the color of lilacs. Grains of sand clung to her eyelashes. She could have been a rag doll, flopping around in my shaking hands.
“Lily,” I called again. I rolled her onto her side. Her tank top rode up, exposing the tattoo on the small of her back: five words in elegant black script—
No Coward Soul Is Mine.
She gasped, dragging in another ragged breath. “I- I’m o- okay,” she said. Her body shook in spasms.
“You’re not.” I balled up my shirt and scrubbed her arms with it, trying to rub color back into her skin. I didn’t want to touch her directly. Not yet.
“S- sorry,” she said. What was she apologizing for? Was

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she delirious? Had I waited too long? Had she lost some brain cells?

I kept scrubbing the warmth back into her limbs. I barely noticed Maris stalking away.
“H- h- how?” Her jaw convulsed and her teeth chattered so hard I feared they might shatter. She rolled onto one side.
“Don’t get up,” I said, ignoring the tightening sensation that was still going on inside me.
She sat up and vomited over the edge of the rock. That was just what I needed to calm myself down. I laughed so loud I startled her.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” I said as I lifted Lily from the rock and climbed up the embankment. Cradled in my arms, she dipped her head into my shoulder. It was nearly the same rescue scene I’d planned for her younger sister. The sky darkened like ink spreading through a shirt pocket as the first raindrops hit my bare shoulders. Lily’s face was soft and relaxed. I curled my body around her to shield her from the rain and strummed her cheek with my thumb. I worried over the blue tinge that still lingered around her lips. I took a breath and realized I’d been holding it.
Slowly the house came into view. Jason Hancock was in the yard, helping the Pettit man throw tools into his truck. When Hancock saw me, he pushed off Pettit’s chest and came running. I stole one more look into Lily’s face. If Maris had any idea how I was feeling, she’d be all over my ass like a shark on a seal.

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12

I MAKE HER NERVOUS

T wo days later I followed Lily to the Blue Moon Café and sat on the park bench across the street, waiting for her to come out, shoving french fries in my mouth as if they were linked together. I checked my watch. She’d been in there for twenty minutes. My knee bounced up and down.
Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go. What are you doing in there?
She wasn’t sitting at a table— I could tell that much— but she was taking too long to be ordering coffee to go. I glanced at my watch again.

A girl slid onto the bench beside me and smiled. My lips twitched in response. She was wearing a bikini top and
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soccer shorts, bobbing a flip- flop sandal that dangled from her foot.

When I didn’t say anything, she stuck out her hand. “Katie,” she said.
Sometimes I really wished we didn’t have this effect on humans. It could be more irritating than flattering, and right now her timing sucked.
“Calder,” I said, licking the salt off my fingers and shaking her hand. She made her hand go light and limp in mine.
“I don’t remember seeing you around here before, Calder,” she said. It was almost a purr, and I turned to look at her more closely. She didn’t take her hand back, so I had to let go first.
“My family has a sailboat down in the marina,” she said. “She’s called
Ragtime.
You should come by and check her out sometime. Maybe go for a sail?”
“I don’t know,” I said, fighting back a smirk. “I’m not much of a water person.”
“Well, maybe a movie?”
This was getting ridiculous; I wasn’t even turning on the juice.
Lily stepped out of the Blue Moon and stopped on the sidewalk, facing us. She looked at me, her gray eyes wide, and then at the girl beside me. Her mouth popped open in a small o.
“Sorry,” I said, not looking the Katie girl in the face. “Gotta go.”
I stood up, tossed the fry box in the garbage, and jogged across the street. Lily looked around nervously and pulled at what appeared to be a pair of striped socks she was wearing

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on her arms. As I got closer, I saw she had cut holes in the socks for her hands; she clutched a piece of paper in her right.

“Well, you’ve clearly recovered,” I said, keeping my tone low, my cadence slow, in that comforting way I knew put humans at ease. I locked my eyes on hers but was only able to hold her gaze for a second.

“Um. Yeah. I took a dozen hot showers, y’know? And Mom about drowned me in chamomile tea.”
I smiled and tried to think of something clever to say. My mind turned to pudding.
“I’m not sure I really thanked you properly the other day,” she said, looking at her shoes.
Is she purposefully avoiding eye contact?
“Oh, sure you did. You said something that sounded like it anyway. You were kind of mumbling the whole way back.”
She looked up at me then. “Did you really carry me home?”
I blinked. “No big deal.”
She shook her head and stared past my shoulder. “It was just the weirdest thing ever. One minute I was on the rock, and the next minute I thought I was going to drown, and then it was like I was flying.”
“I’m not surprised,” I said. Panic seared my veins, and I instinctively took a step back as the first little hairs rose off the back of my neck. “You hit your head really hard on that rock. Did you have to get stitches?”
She didn’t seem to be listening to me.
“It was just so bizarre.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. It sounded like she’d been repeating that line to herself for quite a while. Even now I wasn’t sure she was

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talking to me. “It was just like . . . Never mind.” She shook her head again.

“No, tell me. You’ve made me curious.” Terrified was more like it. Did she know she’d been pushed?
“Well, this is going to sound weird, but, there aren’t, like, any dolphins in Lake Superior, are there?”
I forced my face to stay controlled. “Dolphins? Now you’re just being crazy. This is a freshwater lake. It was probably just the cold affecting your brain.”
“I know, it’s just that I . . .”
“So, what’s the paper you got there?” I asked, pointing to the most convenient distraction I could find.
She looked down at her hand as if she’d forgotten she was holding something. She pulled one of the socks up over her elbow.
“Oh. This. I need to get a job.”
“Don’t you have to start your new school on Monday?”
“No. It’s so late in the year, my mom arranged to homeschool us for the last couple months. This way I get to graduate with my class back home.”
“So how’s it going?”
“Just got started, but okay, I guess. I’ve got to do a comparative essay on Keats’s ‘Ode on a
Grecian Urn’
versus Yeats’s
‘Sailing to Byzantium,’
but Mom’s given me a little more time because of my near drowning and all.”
“The advantages of having a parent as a teacher.”
“Were you homeschooled?” she asked.
I shrugged. “I guess you could call it that. I had a very . . .
practical
upbringing.”
“Exactly. That’s what I’ve been saying. All you really need