To Best the Boys(59)
Sam actually hoots, and Lute and I laugh, and even Beryll’s high-pitched scream quickly turns to one of thrill and pride. And for a moment—for this moment, with Lute’s warmth and spirit entwined around mine—I think it’s something I could live in forever. It reminds me of watching Mum and Da play at the seaside—the laughter, their salt-swept hair, and long days of Mum’s adoring smile. I chuckle and my eyes well with tears from the lashing wind and the painful swell such memories bring.
I refocus on Sam’s joyful hollering, which has just turned to deep shouts from Seleni to look out for what’s ahead—where the boat confiscated by the three boys appears to be stuck in a whirlpool. We watch them try to adjust the sails, but the water current is too strong, and within minutes they are spinning helplessly and yelling at each other to do something.
We pass by and have just reached what I guess to be the midway point when Lute tips his head to mine and his lips brush my ear. “I have to confess I wasn’t actually sure this would work.”
I tilt my head to the side and try to look at him. “Then why’d you agree to it?”
His chuckle falls soft in my ear. “Die alone, or die with a risky girl strapped in my arms? Seemed like a good way to go.”
I laugh and make a comment about him being the cushion if we go down, so really only one of us will die. Then I’m pointing ahead of us—to the first boat that went out. They’re so close to the shore they could walk, but two sirens have caught the boat and are trying to board.
I keep hold of the ropes tied around my chest and lean forward ever so slightly. I’ve never seen the ocean ghouls this close before, and a chill skitters down my spine. They’re a combination of beautiful and terrifying. Half fish, half women, their scales shimmer like blue skies in the light. But their hair and eyes look like sparse, decaying corpses. “Is that how they all are?” I yell.
He nods and sets his lips to my ear. “Legends say they were women sacrificed to the sea, the lord of which saved them by turning them into fish. Their human forms continue to decay while their lower halves are immortal. They’ve sought revenge on humans ever since.”
I nod and watch the boys in the boat tighten their sails and yank free from the fish-women long enough to run the vessel up onto dry land.
“Vincent’s boat just made it too!” Beryll’s yell is faint, and I scan to the left to see the three Upper boys lunge out of it and promptly disappear into the forest.
“Where to?” Sam calls.
A canopy of thick, low greenery spans in front of us, like a meadow of trees. Lute tugs one of the ropes and the wind yanks us up higher, giving us a better view of the forested island and keeping us from slamming into the branches we’re fast approaching.
Sam and Beryll do the same, and a minute later a stone structure comes into view. It looks like a white, spiraled bull’s-eye right in the forest’s center. “Aim there,” Lute calls to the others, to which Seleni nods vigorously, then points at the two groups of boys below who appear to be heading for it too. They’re running like wild animals through the foliage, and I can barely make out their shouts to each other to “stick to the path.”
“We’re coming in too fast,” Beryll hollers, and my stomach lurches because he’s right. For all the launching we practiced, we didn’t prepare to land.
“Aim for the path ahead of where they’re running—there’s a clearing around it,” Lute calls back. “Pull your arms together and start tugging the left side down, like trimming your sails. Get as close to the ground as you can, and hopefully you’ll catch it on a branch! Or you’ll get killed,” he adds, for only me to hear.
Before I have time to holler back that nothing about that sounds like a safe idea, Lute’s already showing Beryll how to do it by example. My lungs lodge in my throat as he drops us right above the trees, and a clearing suddenly appears. Lute’s muscles are straining against my back as he’s leaning forward, his veins rippling along his arms.
He says, “Start running on the count of three.” And then I am running, and he is running, and we are no longer running on air but stumbling and hitting the ground in what feels like something between experiencing an earthquake and having a house fall on you.
We skid to a stop and I lose the will to move for the rest of my short life.
Until Lute tugs the knots loose on the ropes and slides them free so he can roll off of me. His face is inches from mine when he grins. “I keep forgetting you cut your hair.”
My hand flies up, but my hat is gone. It must’ve blown off over the water, or more likely during the landing. I try to cover my head with my hands and scramble around to search for the thing, but it’s no use. It’s gone.
Lute watches me with a glut of amusement. “I would’ve mentioned it over the water, but I like it. It suits you.”
“That’s nice.” I scoff. “Except now everyone else will know too.”
He looks toward where Sam and Seleni are hobbling to their feet and trying to untangle themselves from the ropes after the death landing. Sam keeps yelping.
“I think they already do.” Lute nods to Beryll, who’s got one hand on his nose, which appears to be broken, and the other shielding his brow from the sun as he stares at Seleni. Blood is pouring down his chin and onto his bare chest, and he keeps frowning and tilting his head as Seleni attempts to adjust her clothing. Her hat is missing, and her hair’s come loose in wild puffs around her face, much like a cat stuck in a windstorm.