The House in the Cerulean Sea(101)

Arthur said, “I won’t have you in any danger, Linus. It would be best if you—”

“I can handle myself,” Linus said with a sniff. “I may not look like much, but I assure you I’m more than I appear. I can be quite stern when I need to be. And I’m a representative of the government. In my experience, people listen to authority.” This was only somewhat true, but Linus kept that little detail to himself.

Arthur sagged. “You silly, brave man. I know what you are. But if you would just—”

“Then it’s settled,” Linus said. “Let’s go. I don’t like cold sticky buns, so the sooner we deal with this and can return, the better.” He started for the doorway, but stopped when a thought crossed his mind. “How are we to cross if the ferry is on the other side?”

“Catch.”

He turned in time to see Zoe toss a set of keys toward him. He fumbled with them, but managed to keep them from falling to the floor. He frowned when he saw it was the keys to her ridiculous car. “While I appreciate the effort, I don’t see how this will help us. There is quite a bit of water between us and the village, and unless your car is a submersible, then I don’t know how this will be of any use.”

“It’s better if I don’t tell you,” she said. “It’ll only make you worry.”

“Oh dear,” Linus said faintly. “I don’t know if I like the sound of that.”

She stood on her tiptoes, kissing Arthur on the cheek. “If they see you…”

Arthur shook his head. “Then they do. It’s time to step from the shadows and into the light. Past time, I think.” He glanced at Linus. “Someone wise taught me that.”

They left her standing in the sunlit kitchen, sticky buns warming in the oven.



* * *



The car bounced down the road, Linus’s foot pressing as hard on the gas pedal as he dared. His heart was racing, and his mouth was dry, but there was a sharp clarity to his vision. The trees seemed greener, the flowers that lined the road more brilliant. He glanced in the side mirror in time to see the forest closing off behind them with a low groan, covering the road with thick branches. If one didn’t know what to look for, there appeared to be no way through.

Arthur sat in the passenger seat, hands folded in his lap. His eyes were closed. He was breathing slowly in through his nose and out through his mouth.

They reached the dock at the edge of the island without incident. The sea was calm, the whitecapped waves small as they fell upon the shore. In the distance, across the channel, Linus could see the ferry still docked at the village. He brought the car to a stop, the brakes squeaking.

Arthur opened his eyes.

“What now?” Linus asked nervously, sweaty hands flexing on the steering wheel. “Unless this car is a submersible, I don’t see how we can cross. And if it is, I must tell you I have no experience piloting such a vehicle, and we’ll most likely drown at the bottom of the sea.”

Arthur chuckled. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that. Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Linus said. “Of course I do. How could I not?”

Arthur looked over at him. “Then drive, my dear Linus. Drive and see what that trust has gotten you.”

Linus looked ahead through the windshield.

He took a deep breath.

He lifted his foot off the brake.

The car began to roll forward.

He pressed his foot down on the gas.

The car picked up speed.

His knuckles turned white as they left the last bit of road and hit the white sand of the beach. His throat closed as the ocean filled the windshield. “Arthur—”

Arthur said, “Have faith. I would never let anything happen to you.” He reached over and put his hand on Linus’s leg, squeezing tightly.

Linus didn’t slow.

He didn’t stop.

The roar of the ocean filled his ears as the dry sand turned wet and the first spray of saltwater misted against his face. Before he could shout in warning, the sea crackled in front of them, the water vibrating and shifting as if something just underneath the surface was rising. He closed his eyes tightly, sure they were about to have wave after wave rush over them, pulling them under.

The car rattled around them, the steering wheel jerking in his hand. He prayed to whoever was listening for guidance.

“Open your eyes,” Arthur whispered.

“I would really rather not,” he said through gritted teeth. “Staring death in the face is vastly overrated.”

“Good thing we’re not dying, then. At least not today.”

Linus opened his eyes.

He was stunned when he saw they were on the sea. He twisted his head to look back, only to see the shore shrinking behind them. He gasped, struggling to breathe. “What on earth?”

He turned forward again. A white crystalline road lay before them, materializing from the ocean. He peered over the side of his door, looking down. The road beneath them was almost double the width of the car, snapping and crackling, but holding.

“Salt,” Arthur said, and Linus could hear the amusement in his voice. “It’s the salt from the ocean. It’ll hold.”

“How is this possible?” Linus asked in wonder. Then, “Zoe.”