frantically surveying the breaking waves against the shallow beach of the alcove.
“What?” I saw hoarsely. My throat is raw and singed.
I expected to see that monster beaching itself like a whale to get a good grip on me, to toss me out to sea where it would then proceed to knock the stuffing out of me with its powerful tail.
“In the fog!”
Skewering the brume with my focus, I can just make out that ship, out to sea, with its lights on.
The lanterns filter through the mist like demonic fairy lights, hell red and bobbing unsteadily like headbangers at Satan's masquerade ball.
“So what. It's just a ship,” I gasp, still lightheaded.
“It wasn't there two seconds ago.”
“You couldn't see it two seconds ago because visibility is so poor. You can be such a drama queen. It nearly ran me over out there!”
The ocean is like an iceberg in July and for the first time in memory I am cold. “We need to go home,” I state, precariously forcing myself to stand on fragile strength. My legs quiver unsteadily beneath me, my gut palpitating through my innards, betraying my terror at what I was subjected to down there.
Jowendrhan stands with me, his touch warm and reassuring, “This place is cursed. There are secrets here no one should investigate.”
I nod, shutting down the heat of my glare, my breath stagnating when I think again of the disfigured soul which gripped my flesh in meathook hands.
Closing my eyes, I let Jowendrhan move us back to the house hidden in the forest covering the slope behind Chapman's Peak.
Ignoring Jo, I walk straight to the bathroom we share, stepping into the shower and turning the water on full blast, needling my chilled soul with hot comfort.
“So are we going surfing in the morning?” calls to me from the other side of the steam shroud.
“If you want,” I grumble tiredly, leaning on my arms and staring at the mosaic beneath my feet.
Blistering water runs a salve down my body, freeing me of the lingering tentacles of the macabre.
“Seithe...” comes much closer, right outside the steamy glass of the shower.
“What?” My courage is dissolving with the hot water. Tears are flooding up and running out of my eyes.
I'm so exhausted I feel liquescent, melting into the falling spray.
“Your hair is white.”
What!?
Chapter 14
Jowendrhan:
Seithe bolts out of the shower, halting in front of the mirror which he wipes a clear path through with his wet hand. His nose is bleeding, but he doesn't even seem to be aware of it.
His irises flare hot chrome when he sees his hair, rubbing the palm of his right hand over it.
It sticks up in wet piques and he looks like an old man gone silver overnight.
“Will it change back?” I ask him.
He shrugs, glowering at his image.
The two of us share mom's warm honeyed skin, and it just makes the chalky shade of his hair stand out in stark relief.
“Tell me what happened. Did you see them?” I ask, while he tilts his head back to staunch the bleed, wiping at his nose.
Staring at his bizarre image again, he mumbles, “I can tell you this much, if you ever want to teach someone the value of their life just hold them underwater until their organs start to spasm. They'll quickly appreciate a simple thing like breathing.”
“But we only need to breathe every five minutes. How long were you down for?”
“Too long,” is all he can manage before his voice cracks.
He looks like he's about to throw up.
“Jowendrhan, leave us,” orders from the door, and my pulse plummets as I peg to face our uncle.
Uh oh!
Nodding, I appirate into my bedroom, sitting nervously on the end of my bed, fearing for the trouble Seithe's about to get into, straining to listen.
*
Seithe:
“You can't deprive yourself of air for that long without suffering consequences,” he says in a flat deep voice, indicating my face.
“I have white hair because of oxygen deprivation?”
“Your nose is bleeding,” he says, strolling into the
“What?” I saw hoarsely. My throat is raw and singed.
I expected to see that monster beaching itself like a whale to get a good grip on me, to toss me out to sea where it would then proceed to knock the stuffing out of me with its powerful tail.
“In the fog!”
Skewering the brume with my focus, I can just make out that ship, out to sea, with its lights on.
The lanterns filter through the mist like demonic fairy lights, hell red and bobbing unsteadily like headbangers at Satan's masquerade ball.
“So what. It's just a ship,” I gasp, still lightheaded.
“It wasn't there two seconds ago.”
“You couldn't see it two seconds ago because visibility is so poor. You can be such a drama queen. It nearly ran me over out there!”
The ocean is like an iceberg in July and for the first time in memory I am cold. “We need to go home,” I state, precariously forcing myself to stand on fragile strength. My legs quiver unsteadily beneath me, my gut palpitating through my innards, betraying my terror at what I was subjected to down there.
Jowendrhan stands with me, his touch warm and reassuring, “This place is cursed. There are secrets here no one should investigate.”
I nod, shutting down the heat of my glare, my breath stagnating when I think again of the disfigured soul which gripped my flesh in meathook hands.
Closing my eyes, I let Jowendrhan move us back to the house hidden in the forest covering the slope behind Chapman's Peak.
Ignoring Jo, I walk straight to the bathroom we share, stepping into the shower and turning the water on full blast, needling my chilled soul with hot comfort.
“So are we going surfing in the morning?” calls to me from the other side of the steam shroud.
“If you want,” I grumble tiredly, leaning on my arms and staring at the mosaic beneath my feet.
Blistering water runs a salve down my body, freeing me of the lingering tentacles of the macabre.
“Seithe...” comes much closer, right outside the steamy glass of the shower.
“What?” My courage is dissolving with the hot water. Tears are flooding up and running out of my eyes.
I'm so exhausted I feel liquescent, melting into the falling spray.
“Your hair is white.”
What!?
Chapter 14
Jowendrhan:
Seithe bolts out of the shower, halting in front of the mirror which he wipes a clear path through with his wet hand. His nose is bleeding, but he doesn't even seem to be aware of it.
His irises flare hot chrome when he sees his hair, rubbing the palm of his right hand over it.
It sticks up in wet piques and he looks like an old man gone silver overnight.
“Will it change back?” I ask him.
He shrugs, glowering at his image.
The two of us share mom's warm honeyed skin, and it just makes the chalky shade of his hair stand out in stark relief.
“Tell me what happened. Did you see them?” I ask, while he tilts his head back to staunch the bleed, wiping at his nose.
Staring at his bizarre image again, he mumbles, “I can tell you this much, if you ever want to teach someone the value of their life just hold them underwater until their organs start to spasm. They'll quickly appreciate a simple thing like breathing.”
“But we only need to breathe every five minutes. How long were you down for?”
“Too long,” is all he can manage before his voice cracks.
He looks like he's about to throw up.
“Jowendrhan, leave us,” orders from the door, and my pulse plummets as I peg to face our uncle.
Uh oh!
Nodding, I appirate into my bedroom, sitting nervously on the end of my bed, fearing for the trouble Seithe's about to get into, straining to listen.
*
Seithe:
“You can't deprive yourself of air for that long without suffering consequences,” he says in a flat deep voice, indicating my face.
“I have white hair because of oxygen deprivation?”
“Your nose is bleeding,” he says, strolling into the
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