The House in the Cerulean Sea(102)
Arthur nodded. “She is capable of a great many things, more than even I know. I’ve only ever seen her do this once before. We decided long ago to make use of the ferry, to keep the people of the village at ease. It’s better to deal with Merle when we have to, instead of inciting fear by a car crossing the water.”
Linus choked on a hysterical laugh. “Oh, of course. Just a road made from the salt of the ocean. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“You didn’t know it was a possibility,” Arthur said quietly. “But those of us who dream of impossible things know just how far we can go when pushed to do so.”
“Well, then,” Linus said faintly. “Let’s see how they like us being pushed, shall we?”
He pressed the gas pedal as hard as he could.
The car roared forward along the salt road.
* * *
They could see a group of people standing on the docks near the ferry. Some had their arms raised in the air, hands curled into fists. Their shouts were drowned out by the sounds of the car and sea, but their mouths were twisted, their eyes narrowed. Some carried signs that looked hastily made, bearing such legends as I SAW SOMETHING, I AM SAYING SOMETHING and I AM ANTI-ANTICHRIST and, absurdly, I DIDN’T HAVE ANYTHING CLEVER TO WRITE.
Their shouts died down when they saw the car approaching. Linus couldn’t fault them for the looks of shock on their faces. He was sure that if he were standing on the shore, watching a car driving along the surface of the ocean, he’d probably wear the same expression.
The salt road ended at the beach near the docks. He brought the car to a halt on the sand, turning it off. The engine ticked.
Silence fell.
Then, at the front, the man from the ice cream shop (Norman, Linus thought with mild disdain) shouted, “They’re using magic!”
The crowd began to roar in earnest once more.
Helen was standing at the front of the crowd on the dock as if to block them from gaining access to the ferry. She looked furious, her face smudged with dirt. Merle stood next to her, arms across his chest, a scowl on his face.
Linus and Arthur exited the vehicle, slamming the doors shut behind them. Linus was relieved to see the crowd wasn’t as large as it first appeared. There were perhaps a dozen people, including Helen and Merle. He wasn’t surprised to see Marty from the record shop in the crowd, wearing a neck brace. He held a sign that said YES, I WAS INJURED BY THE SCION OF THE DEVIL. ASK ME HOW! Next to him was the man from the post office. Linus wasn’t surprised. He never liked that fellow all that much to begin with.
The shouts died once more as Linus and Arthur climbed the steps next to the dock, though they didn’t die out completely.
“What is the meaning of this?” Linus demanded as he reached the dock. “My name is Linus Baker, and I am in the employ of the Department in Charge of Magical Youth. Yes, that’s correct. A government official. And when a government official wants answers, said answers had best be given as quickly as possible.”
“They tried to swarm my ferry,” Merle said, eyeing the crowd and Arthur with distaste in equal measure. “Said they wanted to get to the island. I wouldn’t let them.”
“Thank you, Merle,” Linus said, surprised at the ferryman’s thoughtfulness. “I wouldn’t have expected—”
“They refused to pay me,” Merle snapped. “I don’t do nothin’ for free.”
Linus bit his tongue.
“You shouldn’t have come,” Helen told Arthur. “I have this under control. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you or the children.” She glared at her nephew, who tried to slink back farther into the crowd. “Some people don’t know when to keep their mouths shut. Oh, you can try and hide, Martin Smythe, but I see you. I see you very well. I see all of you. And I have a long, long memory.”
“I’m sure you have this well in hand,” Arthur said, voice even. “But it always helps to have people by your side.”
Linus stepped forward. The sun was bright, causing him to sweat profusely. He glared at the group of people before him. He’d never been the intimidating sort, much to his consternation, but he wasn’t about to allow these people to do whatever had gotten stuck in their heads. “What is the meaning of this?”
He felt a savage glee when the crowd took a step back as one.
“Well? You seemed to have a voice just fine until we arrived. Anyone? Surely someone is willing to speak.”
It was Norman who did. Linus wasn’t surprised. “We want them gone,” he growled. “The children. The orphanage. The island. All of it.”
Linus stared at him. “And how do you expect to rid yourselves of an entire island?”
Norman flushed with anger. “That’s—you see—that’s not the point.”
Linus threw up his hands. “Then what, pray tell, is the point?”
Norman spluttered before saying, “The Antichrist child. He almost killed Marty!”
The crowd rumbled behind him in agreement.
Norman nodded furiously. “Yes, that’s right. There Marty was, minding his own business when that—that thing came into town and threatened his life! Threw the poor sod against the wall like it was nothing. He’s permanently injured. The fact that he’s even walking is a miracle!”