Secondhand Charm by Julie Berry

his mouth on his wet sleeve. “What’re you smiling at?”
    Color flooded back into his face. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and surveyed the scene.
    “How’d I get here?” he said. “How’d it get to be morning?”
    His voice was still weak. Trying not to attract his attention, I inched myself nearer to his feet to see where the serpent bit him. I couldn’t spot a blemish on either foot.
    “Let’s get you over to the fire the others built,” I said. “You need heat.”
    I helped hoist him up onto his feet, and we walked slowly across the beach to where the bonfire blazed. The others there made space for him without comment. The ring of people around the fire was deep, filled with sober-faced sailors and ship’s passengers. What a sorry-looking, bedraggled lot we were.
    “How many missing?” I asked Freddie Bell.
    He rubbed his forehead with his wrist. “That’s the odd thing, miss,” he said. “Everybody’s accounted for, besides them two that left.”
    “Meaning, you’ve found the bodies?”
    He gestured toward the beach. “You see any bodies, miss?”
    I followed his pointing hand. No, I didn’t see any bodies. Not one.
    “Got at least a dozen people here swearing they had died, and came back,” he said. “Some say something in the water rescued ’em. A big fish, or nearly.”
    I gazed into the flames. Around me the ring of bedraggled survivors buzzed with conversation. Even children traveling with their guardians had survived the storm.
    “When that ship hit the rock, our prospects were grim,” the captain proclaimed. “What we’ve witnessed is nothing less than a miracle.”
    “But what about the beast?” asked a woman. “If there really is such an ungodly beast as you say, send the harpoons after it. These shores aren’t safe with such a creature in the waters.”
    “You have an odd notion of safety, madam,” the captain said. “If what people say is true, without the beast few of us would be alive now.”
    Shouts rang out from over the bluffs. A pair of fishermen appeared over the headlands and hollered down to our party. Several survivors ran to learn how far we were from help. They followed the fishermen back to their village to petition for assistance.
    I retreated from the ring of survivors and pretended to gather more driftwood. When I was sure no one was watching me, I ran back to the jagged rocks. I’d just begun to feel dry, nevertheless I plunged into the waves until I was thigh deep in the water.
    I wanted to call to my leviathan, but I didn’t know how, nor what name to use, nor how I could begin to repent of my blindness.
    “Leviathan?” I whispered. “Beast?”
    Small waves lapped against me, yet I was so worn and weak that they nearly toppled me.
    I treaded deeper in until my waist was submerged, my whole body shuddering with cold.
    “Le- vi -a-than,” I sang softly, bending my mouth low over the water. “Please come.”
    I pressed farther on till only my shoulders cleared the water, and only then if I stood on tiptoe. Waves crashed over my head, and I held my breath to meet them.
    “ ’Ere! Miss! Don’t do that!” a voice bellowed from across the beach. “She’s gone mad! Trying to go back and finish her death. Somebody stop her!”
    “No, don’t!” I cried. But a pack of men broke away from the fire and raced toward me. I panicked, and flung myself forward.
    Now I couldn’t touch bottom. I had one breath left. I used it to send my thoughts out into the deep. Please, leviathan, forgive me, I said. Please pardon my foolishness. Thank you so much for saving them. For saving Aidan.
    Hands grabbed my shoulders and yanked me from the water. They hefted and handed me ashore like a barrel of molasses and set me down on the sand.
    “What in the name of Pete were you thinking, girl?” a harsh voice shouted in my ear.
    “Go easy on the child,” said another, older voice. “She was one of the first ones, running around helping everyone else. She’s worn