CHAPTER 32

Kana, Line, and Marin walked across the old seabed until they arrived at the statue of the hag. The statue itself was nearly eight feet tall, and it stood atop a ten-foot pedestal. It was an old woman, with long hair and a hollowed-out face. Two similar statues stood a few hundred yards away in either direction. All three statues had their backs to the island.

Kana walked right up to the pedestal to examine the algaeen crusted writing on the hag’s long shield. He read it out loud:

THE HOUSES MUST BE WITHOUT STAIN.

LEAVE THEM AS THEY WERE.

COVER YOUR SCENT.

FLEE THE NIGHT OR WE WILL COME FOR YOU.

Kana looked back at Marin and Line. “Warnings,” he said. “Probably for anyone who comes to the island riding the Morning Tide.”

“Leave them as they were,” repeated Marin. “I guess that accounts for all the crazy rituals—closing this door, not closing that door, SNOUT here, TEETH there . . .”

“The last line is clear enough,” said Line. “And we’re breaking that rule right now.”

All three stood there, shoulder to shoulder, staring at the stone hag and the words carved on her shield. Line thought about the last sentence: Flee the Night or we will come for you. His mind felt feverish. We will come for you. Was this a useful fact, or was it something he should ignore? He felt troubled, and the trembling in his stomach spread to his arms and fingers.

“We should go,” said Line. “It’s a long way to the mouth of the Coil, and I’m guessing those things will keep hunting us.”

They walked on, heading southeast along the coast, toward Shiprock Point. The only sound was the scraping of their boots against the mud and sand of the seabed. Kana led, and was so agile that he forgot to slow down for Marin and Line. At one point, Line slipped and then fell on a seaweed-covered rock. Marin grabbed his arm to help pull him up. Just then, Kana called out. His voice sounded distant. They couldn’t see him, but he reappeared only a minute later.

“You won’t believe this,” he began, but stopped when he saw the drawn faces in front of him. “What happened?”

“We’re fine,” said Marin. She dug her hands into her oilskin. It seemed to be getting colder by the hour. “What did you see?”

“The tide rolling back uncovered something incredible. Come—I’ll show you.” Kana looked excited in a childlike way. His reaction made Marin even more curious.

Kana led them for another twenty minutes, until they arrived at a rock outcropping that offered a better view. In the distance—perhaps two or three miles away—two stone towers rose from the sea floor. Halfway up, the towers were connected by a bridge. At the base of the towers was a stone structure that looked like a sturdy fortress. The towers were slender and round, but their tops were the most intriguing feature of all. Instead of ending in a spike or turret, as castle towers often did in storybooks, each tower ended in a garden, complete with rocks, trees, and grass. Because the seabed descended quickly as it fell away from the island, at this distance, the tops of the towers were actually at eye level.

Line rubbed his face with his hands, partly to wipe away the strain of walking fast, partly because he couldn’t believe what he saw. He grabbed onto Kana’s shoulder. “I never would have guessed—never.”

Kana nodded in agreement.

“This is crazy,” said Line. “But I think . . .” He shook his head. “No—can’t be.”

“What?”

Line stared some more. He looked at the towers, then back to the island, as if trying to solve a puzzle. “Are those the Dwarf Oak Islands? The tops of the towers, I mean. I think I recognize those trees. I’ve sailed around them before.”

“The Dwarf Oak Islands,” said Marin slowly, as recognition dawned on her. “That’s where the mayor said the citadel was supposed to be. In a way, he was right. The citadel is underneath the islands.”

Line looked at the towers with a frown. “You think our people built that?”

Marin studied the towers again, taking in their sheer size. “No way,” she said. “How could they? Those towers are huge—it must have taken years to build them. And they’d be underwater during Day. The creatures must have built them. It’s the only explanation.”

“Then maybe we shouldn’t be going toward it,” said Line. “They don’t seem to like us in their buildings.”

“But we have to go in that direction,” said Kana. He pointed to the forested shoreline beyond the towers. “It’s the only way to get around Shiprock Point and make it to the mouth of the Coil.”

“I guess . . . ,” said Line, but he didn’t sound convinced.

Suddenly, Kana spun around and looked behind them—back toward the cliffs.

“What?” Line asked, turning around and seeing nothing but seabed.

Kana paused and stood absolutely still. His posture reminded Marin of a feral cat hunting birds. When he finally relaxed, he shook his head. “Nothing—just keeping an eye out.”

It didn’t matter what he said. The mere fact of him turning and looking back was enough to rekindle the panic they’d felt climbing down the cliff. Kana took off at a brisk pace, while Marin and Line struggled to keep up with him. An hour passed, and Line began to slow. He and Marin paused while Kana scouted ahead.

“I wish Kana hadn’t run off,” Marin said, pushing the hair out of her eyes and gazing into the distance. “I don’t care what he’s doing. We should be sticking together.”

“Funny—isn’t that what Kana said when you wanted to go to the vegetable stand on your own?” observed Line with a smile.

Marin stood several inches deep in a swirl of rocks, mud, and seaweed. “I guess.” She lifted her head to look up at Line. “Do you think he’s all right? I haven’t seen him eat in . . . well . . . a long time.”

Line stepped toward Marin and drew her close. Her cheek pressed against the softness between his collarbone and neck. “He’s fine,” Line said. “He’s in better shape than either of us. Did you see him when we were trying to hold that door shut, back at the mayor’s house? It started to swing open and he pushed it back. Practically by himself.”

“I hope you’re right,” said Marin. She didn’t sound convinced.

They continued to pick their way across a treacherous assortment of slippery, seaweed-covered rocks. In the distance, thunder rumbled every few minutes. It was odd to walk here. It smelled and felt like the sea, but—other than a few pools of stagnant water where starfish lingered—there was no seawater to be found. An hour passed, then another, and Kana still did not return.

At one point, Marin noticed that Line had started cradling his injured arm. He noticed her glance and rolled his eyes. “I’m fine,” he said. “Stop worrying.”

“But what about your arm?”

Line moved it gingerly. “Better, I think. Or, at the very least, not worse.”

She looked at him, trying to decide whether to believe what he said. “Good,” she said at last. “Still, we should get more lekar when we catch up with Kana.” She looked around, half expecting to see Kana right next to them.

“He’s just scouting ahead,” said Line. “He’ll circle back. This is what he does—just like when we hunted for mushrooms.” Then he chuckled darkly. “And if he’s gone—well, can you really blame him for leaving us?”

“Not funny,” said Marin.

“Sorry,” said Line. “I’m just saying, he’d be on the boats right now if you hadn’t tried to rescue me.”

“You’re right,” said Marin dryly. “We should have left you.”

They continued through puddles of vanished ocean. Soon they could smell brine. They were close to the retreating shoreline.

“Sometimes I think you’ve been too good to me,” said Line. He sounded distant, contemplative. He was looking away, as if he were talking to himself.

“Please don’t say that,” she said, grabbing his hand.

“Why shouldn’t I say that?” asked Line.

She quickened her pace, putting several feet between them. “Just don’t.”

Line sped up, stepping quickly over the slippery rocks, trying to catch her. “All I had to do was get on the boat with my brother,” he continued. “That was it. And I messed it up. And if you hadn’t come back for me . . .”

“Don’t,” said Marin, looking down at her feet. She didn’t dare make eye contact with him. “Maybe . . . maybe I’m not as good a person as you think.” As she said this, she slipped her hand into her coat pocket and clasped the necklace with her cold, numb fingers.

Line raised his hands, palms toward the sky. “What does that mean?”

“Well, it’s just that . . . ,” she started, and then stopped, as if simply grasping for the right words.

Line took a step toward her. “I don’t understand.”

“Lower your expectations,” she said finally. “That’s all.”