Surrendering (Swans Landing) Page 10

  Dylan’s face lost all color and his scowl melted away. “Where?”

  I pointed north. “Near the pier. They just surfaced. They have my mom.”

  Dylan raced across the sand without a word. I followed, climbing the dunes that separated the beach from the shops along this side of Heron Avenue. Dylan raced up the staircase that led to Moody’s Variety Store while I sprinted across the street, turning corners until I reached the blue house up on stilts.

  Bursting through the door, I called out as loud as I could, “They’re here!”

  Callum and Sailor appeared immediately, their faces both ghostly white. “Domnall?” Callum asked.

  I nodded. “They came ashore near the pier. They’re here.”

  “What do we do?” Sailor asked.

  “You stay here,” Callum told her. “I’ll go. Maybe I can talk to them.”

  “I’m not staying behind!” Sailor exclaimed, shooting Callum a scowl. “If you go, I go.”

  I didn’t have time to listen to them argue. I found my bag of clothes and peeled off the tattered jeans before pulling on a new pair. I understood now why the Hether Blether finfolk all wore robes.

  I left the two of them arguing in the doorway while I raced back down the stairs. I cut through yards, jumping over fences and bushes and dodging dogs to reach Mara’s house.

  I pounded on her front door. “Mara! They’re here!”

  The door swung open, but it was Lake and not Mara who looked out at me. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all in at least two days, and his face was covered with thick brown stubble.

  “Where?” he asked calmly.

  “The pier,” I said.

  Lake nodded, his face grim. He pushed past me and hurried down the stairs, running when he reached the ground.

  “What’s going on?” Mara appeared in the doorway, her eyes wide.

  “They’re here,” I told her.

  Her mouth dropped open. “We’re out of time?”

  I nodded. “And they have my mom.”

  Mara swallowed and then held her shoulders back. She stepped outside, reaching for my hand and entwining her fingers with mine. “Let’s go,” she said.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The finfolk crested the dunes as we reached Heron Avenue. Lake, Mara, Dylan’s parents, and I stood in a group on one side of the road. Behind them, another crowd approached. Dylan and Mr. Moody led the way with a few other finfolk and humans.

  A jolt went through me when I saw my mother standing among Domnall’s people. She looked even more lost and confused than usual, though no one was singing. What tricks did they know to create lasting effects on the human mind without the song?

  Mara must have felt me tense, because she reached for my hand and squeezed tight.

  “We do not wish to fight anyone,” Domnall said, examining us and then the group behind him. He held his arms out, palms up, as if to show that he had no weapons. But he was dangerous even without being armed. “We have come in peace.”

  “Peace?” asked a voice behind me. I turned as Callum limped his way toward us, Sailor at his side. He stared at Domnall, his mouth curled into a snarl. “You’ve come to invade a land that doesn’t belong to you. That is not my definition of peace.”

  “We have come,” Domnall spoke in a louder voice, his shoulders back, “to reunite our people with those who are lost. We have come to strengthen the finfolk population, to offer you hope in a world controlled by humans.”

  “No, thanks,” Lake said, crossing his arms. “We like our world the way it is.”

  “Only because you know nothing else,” Domnall told him. “Your ancestors took away your chance to be with your own kind. They left their people behind, but we are offering you a choice. A chance to be whole, to be who you are meant to be, in a place where you are free to do it.”

  “And what exactly do you call freedom, Domnall?” Callum asked. He gestured at his leg, where the end of the metal leg stuck out from the bottom of his pants. “Cutting off limbs? That’s your freedom? Restricting people to a single place? Instilling fear and hatred of the outside world?”

  Domnall’s eyes narrowed as he looked back at Callum. “You, dear brother, are a traitor to us. Your punishment is your own doing. As for the rest of your claims, everything I do is for the protection of my people. The human world has tainted us! It has introduced illness, of both mind and body. It has made us weak. United, we can be strong again. We can ensure that the race of our people continues for generations to come. That is what I offer you now. Hope. A future.”

  “And what about those of us who are human?” Mr. Richter asked. “Where do we fit into your new world?”

  Domnall sneered. “Humans are of no concern to me.”

  Mr. Moody raised his shotgun, the barrel pointed steadily at Domnall. “There ain’t no one here who wants your future, sir, so I suggest you get off our island.”

  Domnall turned to face Mr. Moody, looking unconcerned about the weapon pointed his way. He opened his mouth and the notes of the finfolk song filled the air. I clamped my hands over my ears, though it wouldn’t block it out.

  Mr. Moody’s arms trembled and he blinked. He stared at something in front of him, lowering the gun. “Gale,” he said, his voice trembling.

  “That’s enough!” Lake dashed forward, his face twisted in pain. He lunged at Domnall, but Artair and another guard stepped in his path, holding him back. It was enough to distract Domnall though, and the song faded, leaving Mr. Moody and the other humans shaking their heads.

  “Very well,” Domnall roared, his face red. “If you will not join us peacefully, we will find ways to convince you.” He waved a hand toward Lake. “Take away his ability to change.”

  “No!” I shouted, stepping forward. Mara looked at me in confusion, but her eyes were wide. We hadn’t explained one of the other things the finfolk could do with the song: use it to stop someone from changing to finfolk form. Domnall had had it done to Callum years ago. As he had explained to Sailor and me, it was a difficult process and took a lot of energy, a lot more than healing someone did. It was only done in extreme circumstances.

  “You have no right, Domnall,” Callum said through clenched teeth.

  “I have every right,” Domnall replied. “As I have reminded you before, you are not king, Callum. You gave up your claim.”

  He turned back to Artair. “Do it.”

  Artair looked at us and then at Domnall. He shifted from one foot to the other.

  “Why do you hesitate?” Domnall snapped.

  Artair took a deep breath. “I do not think—”

  “You are not here to think! You are here to follow orders!”

  Artair’s hesitation gave Lake the opportunity to launch himself backward against the man, ramming his shoulder into Artair’s chest. Artair stumbled backward, gasping. Other guards reached for Lake, but he ducked and twisted out of the way, racing toward us.

  “Go!” he shouted. He grabbed Mara’s arm, never pausing as he passed. I stumbled after them, my hand still clenched in hers. “Go!” Lake called over his shoulder. “Everyone, now!”

  I didn’t hesitate. I turned and ran, trying to keep up with Mara and Lake. Mara looked back at me just once, her eyes wide. She stumbled a bit over the sand, then turned back to run with her father.

  Lake was fast, probably almost as fast as he could be in the water. He leaped over small brush as he raced down the street away from the beach and Domnall. I hadn’t paid attention to everyone else, but I hoped they had managed to get away too.

  Footsteps pounded on the asphalt behind me. I glanced over my shoulder just long enough to see that it was one of Domnall’s men. Domnall must have ordered his guard to try to catch as many of us as they could. Wind roared in my ears as I ran, but I could hear the faint sound of the finfolk song. My feet moved on their own, slowing just slightly. Gold sparks burst at the edges of my vision.

  “Josh! Keep running!”

  I blinked, shaking my head. Mara�
��s voice brought me back from the haze that had settled over my mind. She and Lake were getting farther away, but still close enough that the guard behind me might be able to catch them.

  He couldn’t find out where they were going. I couldn’t let Domnall know where to look for Mara.

  I veered off to the right, dashing in between shops. Just as I’d hoped, the guard turned too, following me. It was a very risky move, giving him the chance to get me alone, but at least Mara could get away.

  I dodged between shops and then homes, jumping over bushes and a kid’s red wagon. The guard was still a few feet behind me, but I had the advantage. I had grown up in Swans Landing, and I knew every inch of it.

  Gritting my teeth, I pushed myself harder. I had to get ahead enough to hide. The shops and homes along Heron Avenue changed into open grassland and dunes the farther north I ran. I could see the black and white lighthouse rising ahead and then the ferry dock near it. There was no ferry docked in the harbor, since it hadn’t come at all that day.

  I reached the fence that marked the parking lot of the harbor with still a good distance between myself and the finfolk guard. I glanced back just long enough to see how much time I had. Seconds, maybe, if I was lucky.

  I dashed across the gravel parking lot toward the dock. Jumping over the metal bars that served as a gate, I ran to the edge of the wooden dock and then jumped into the water, as quickly and fluidly as I could. It occurred to me as I sank below the surface that I was ruining yet another pair of jeans.

  The change took over me and I fell deep below the surface, trying not to thrash too much or let out any air bubbles that would let the guard know where I was. He could change too, so he could jump in after me if he wanted, but I hoped that maybe he would go back to Domnall instead.

  Once my change was done, I didn’t dare go near the surface. Instead, I stayed as close to the sandy bottom as I could. I floated just inches above the sand, not daring to move even an inch for a long time. I didn’t know how much time passed, but it felt like an eternity. Every fish that swam my way made my heart lurch, certain that it was the finfolk guard coming after me.

  But the water remained still and I was alone. When I felt brave enough, I slowly swam west toward the sound side of the island. I paused long enough to study the murky water around me, but there was so sign that anyone else was following.

  Finally, I let out the breath I’d been holding.

  * * *

  “Any luck?” Lake asked as Mr. Richter sat down at the island counter in Miss Gale’s kitchen.

  Mr. Richter sighed. “I’ve called as many people as I could reach. Most of them didn’t seem too worried about my warnings. Harry Connors hung up on me.”

  Lake rubbed a hand over his face, sighing. “I don’t know what else we can do. We’re trying to help and they won’t even listen to us.”

  Mara and I exchanged a worried look. There weren’t many year round residents of Swans Landing, a few hundred, but there were enough that the people who weren’t here with us could have been in more danger than they realized. I had made my way to the sound side of the island an hour ago and came ashore near Miss Gale’s house. The finfolk guard who had followed me to the ferry dock was nowhere to be seen, but I still had raced for safety as quickly as I could.

  A small crowd had gathered at Miss Gale’s. We had taped up all the windows in the house, covering them with black trash bags and blankets, and stuffed towels against all the doors that led outside, trying to block out any sounds, any bit of song that the finfolk out there might try to use to lure us out. Mara had already called her friend Claire and warned her to keep her doors locked and her family inside. I hoped that maybe the rest of the humans on the island would make it through the night.

  I slid my glass of salt water across the counter, staring at the liquid inside. Domnall had my mom. I hated to think what he might be doing to her.

  But a part of me—a small, tiny part—wondered if I should leave her to her fate with the finfolk. She killed my father. She had lied to me, let me believe that someone else was responsible for his death. But it had been her. She had always known the truth.

  And yet, she was my mother. There was a kind, sensitive woman somewhere inside her. I had glimpsed it a few times throughout my life, when she would bandage up my scrapes and sing me to sleep.

  “So what’s the plan?” Mara asked. “How do we defeat them?”

  “We can’t,” Callum said. He sat on the couch behind us, with Sailor at his side. Dylan leaned against the refrigerator, avoiding looking at them.

  “What?” Mr. Moody asked in his low growl.

  “They know more than you do,” Callum said. “They know how to use the songs in ways that the finfolk here don’t.” He looked at Mara, Lake, Dylan, and then me. “You’re also part human, and that makes you weak.”

  “But aren’t they part human too?” I asked. “You said some of the finfolk in Hether Blether had human blood.”

  Callum nodded. “Right. But Domnall would know not to bring along people that have weakened blood. He wouldn’t want his guard to be susceptible to the song’s influence like humans are. So the people he brought with him are most likely all pure finfolk. None of them reacted to the song, did they?”

  The rest of us exchanged uneasy looks. Domnall’s group was small, no more than twenty men and women, but if they could use the songs against us, we didn’t have much of a chance.

  “There has to be a way,” I said.

  “Unless you can turn all of you into full-blooded finfolk, there isn’t,” Callum said. “You’ll be vulnerable to even the weakest finfolk song with your human blood.”

  There were some finfolk in Swans Landing who had so little human blood in them that they considered themselves fully finfolk. People like Miss Gale, whose last human ancestor was many generations before her. But still, she had the human genes and she was vulnerable to the song’s effects too. We all were.

  “The key.”

  Our heads snapped toward the hall where Coral stood. Her white nightgown fluttered around her feet and her skin was as pale as the cloth, making her look like a ghost. She twisted her fingers around each other as she took another step into the room.

  “Coral,” Lake said gently, “you should go to sleep.”

  But Coral didn’t look at him. She stared at me, her blue eyes wide. “The key,” she said again, in a whisper. Frantic lines formed between her eyes. “You have to use the key. Remember?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know what you mean. What about the key? What did my dad tell you?”

  But she looked agitated and turned, pacing the room in her bare feet. “It’s the only way,” she said to herself. “I brought it back, just like he told me to. He knows what to do.”

  Sailor stood and rushed to her mother’s side, slipping her arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay, Mama,” Sailor said. She ran a hand over her mother’s hair and led her back into the hall.

  The rest of us sat silently after they’d left. Mr. Moody cleared his throat, then he rose from his seat and disappeared into the hall after them.

  * * *

  I rolled the finfolk key over in my hands, rubbing my thumb across the rough surface. I bounced it between one hand and the other, inspecting every part of the twisted metal.

  But it didn’t tell me anything I didn’t know before. If my dad had told Coral something about this key, it wasn’t anything obvious. I need answers, Dad, I thought. Tell me something.

  “Hey.” Mara sat down next to me on the floor where I had set up my makeshift bed. With so many people now staying at the Mooring house, I had given up the couch to Mr. Moody. But it didn’t seem like anyone would be getting much sleep that night. The adults were all still up, keeping watch from the tiny attic window. Dylan’s little brother Reed was passed out on the love seat while everyone else was scattered throughout the house.

  “Hey,” I greeted her.

  Mara snuggled close to me, slipping her arm through mine.
“Figured anything out?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with this.”

  “Is there anything in your dad’s papers?” Mara asked.

  “Not that I’ve found yet.” I motioned to the stack in my lap. “I still have a lot of reading to do.”

  I sighed and closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the wall behind me. I was tired, but it was more of a mental fatigue than physical. My body felt too wired and jumpy for sleep.

  “You okay?” Mara asked.

  I opened my eyes, surveying the room. We were alone, as alone as we could be in a crowded house. No one was close enough to overhear us if we talked quietly.

  “Something happened right before the finfolk showed up,” I said. I looked down at my clenched hands on top of the notebook in my lap. “My mom told me something about the night my dad died.”

  “What is it?” Mara asked gently.

  I sucked in a shaking breath. “She said she followed him to the pier that night. All the finfolk were in the water because it was song night. She saw him there, waiting for Coral to join him. My mom…” I paused, the words getting stuck in my throat. I swallowed and tried again. “My mom pushed my dad off the pier.”

  “Your mom…” Mara left the sentence unfinished, her face twisted into disbelief.

  I nodded. “My mom killed my dad. You’ve heard what people have said. The water was rough that night, too rough for a human. He hit the pilings and drowned. His body washed up onshore the next morning.”

  “But why?” Mara asked, pressing herself closer to me. “Why should she do that?”

  “She said it was to protect me,” I told her. “To keep me from growing up with a father who chose to leave his family. But I don’t know what to believe anymore. All this time, I thought that the finfolk part of me was the dangerous part, the one I should be afraid of. But maybe the human part is the cruelest. Maybe that’s the one I should fear.”

  “You’re not your parents, Josh,” Mara said. “What they did doesn’t make you a bad person. Being finfolk or human doesn’t make you evil. One isn’t better than the other. They’re both you.”