It was just past midnight, the soft drizzle of the unabated storm sending a quiet but constant echo of pitter-patter throughout the ship's quarters. Low clouds hung over the yacht like a dome of wet cotton, rebounding all sound, creating the strange sensation of being indoors. On the deck of the ship, the world was grim.

Dad had felt certain that the adrenaline rush of the evening would keep him awake for hours. He sat in a lawn chair on the topmost deck, peering into the night with a feeling like he was all alone in the world. Although he would not quite admit it to himself, he knew that somewhere inside of him he was terrified that the Shadow Ka would return before morning, before we had the time and energy to devise a plan of defense. There were just so many of them.

While we all slept below, Dad sat at his post, guardian of the fortress.

Twenty minutes later, defying his fear, he fell asleep.

Rusty and I shared a cabin, a simple room with a window, two small beds, a dresser and a closet. The gentle rocking of the boat had been pure misery for my stomach the first couple of weeks, but now it had become a soothing sensation, and mixed with the gentle rain, better than any sleeping pill.

I was in the depths of slumber, having some bizarre dream about Superman asking me to take over for him while he went to visit his in-laws in Africa, when something woke me up.

The sounds of the chains were descending upon us once again.

The clanging thud of them clattering along the outside of my cabin was like dragging a string of bones across glass. The Ka were back, and they were up to something with those chains. Fear washed the sleep away like a high-powered fire hose on a single mote of dust. Half a second after I heard the grating sound of the chains, I was standing at the small round window, wide-awake. Condensation made it impossible to see anything but liquid drops of crystal, and I turned to run out the door.

After a quick shove to wake Rusty up, I made for the hallway and the short stairs that led up to the main deck.

Up above, everything had gone bonkers.

The lights were out, so it was difficult to see anything but dark shapes and shifting shadows from the scant moonlight seeping through the overcast sky like an old werewolf movie. But the piercing sound of throaty roars and dragging chain links left no doubt that the Shadow Ka were back. And they were very busy.

It was impossible to tell what they were doing, but they had an obvious air of intent. The chains. What was the deal with the chains?

No one else was around, and I wondered who had been on watch. Dad should have awakened the next person by then, but I didn't see him or anyone else. I was torn. Should I begin defending us from the Ka, start shooting Ice at them like a crazed Jack Frost, or should I gather everyone and come up with a quick plan? Conflicting thoughts and confusion ran through my head, and I just sat there for several seconds.

A Ka screamed near my head. The sound of a chain whipping through the air, and a gust of wind brushed my hair as the Ka flew past me. It didn't bother messing with me, knowing about the Shield. It landed several feet from me, and I could just see the outline of the human shape with wings attached, a long chain hanging around its neck. It looked at me and screamed again.

Then it started wrapping the long chain around something, I couldn't tell what. At first I panicked, thinking it was my dad, but it wasn't a person. I looked around, straining my eyes. The Ka were everywhere, some flapping their wings, hovering to the sides of the ship, many more all over the ship itself. All of them were doing things with their chains, wrapping them, twisting them, tying them.

I yelled out, asking if anyone else was up there. No answer.

I ran back down the stairs. Rusty was standing at the doorway to our small cabin, looking terrified.

“Jimmy, what's happening? What are they doing out there?”

“I don't know. They're wrapping their chains around things, fastening and securing them. It doesn't make any sense.”

“Is anyone else up there?” he asked.

“Not that I can tell. Stay here, I'll try to get everybody together.”

Rusty went and sat down on his bed, his face full of worry.

I had just turned to run to the next door when Rusty yelped, a wail of surprise. I halted and popped my head back in our room.

“Look!” Rusty yelled. He pointed at our small window, the one that looked out on the ocean, with no railings or walkways below it.

Dad was out there, staring at us.

Then he was gone.