“He used to keep the rowboat tied here sometimes. The mangroves protect it from storms. He must have moved it when the regression began.” Montgomery waded into the water, navigating through the tight trees. Mud sucked his boots down. The water was soon up to his waist, and then he disappeared through the watery tangle of trees.
Edward and I stood alone on the shore, an uneasy silence between us. Ever since he’d killed Antigonus, a shadow had settled over Edward. He’d drugged my father so easily. It was the island, slowly corrupting his heart, as it was corrupting everything. We had to leave before it turned us into things we weren’t.
Get off this island, I told myself. Then sort out the messes of our lives.
The water rippled in graceful arcs that spread across the tidal inlet and lapped at our feet. After a few minutes Montgomery returned, pulling a blue-and-white-painted boat through the water. It looked too cheerful for a bleak, savage island. He beached it in the soft silt. “Climb in. We’ll row to the dock and tie it there. It’s too heavy to carry overland.”
Edward helped hold the boat. I bunched my skirt and climbed in, trying to steady myself. My foot slipped, and warm seawater flooded my boot. Edward climbed in with considerably more grace. Montgomery tugged us free of the shore and pulled the boat through the tunnel of trees until the water was at his waist, then his chest, and finally his shoulders. We broke from the trees.
Oh, the open sea. Freedom felt so close. I wanted to tell Montgomery to just keep going, farther out to sea, to never turn back to the island.
Edward was watching me keenly. “We won’t last a day without shade and water,” he said, dashing my hopes.
Montgomery hoisted himself into the boat, water pouring off his massive shoulders. He wiped his face and picked up an oar. The other one he tossed to Edward.
“Hug the coast,” he said, pointing ahead. “The beach is on the other side of the mangroves.”
The tide tried to drag the boat away from the island, but Edward and Montgomery kept it steady. From outside, the forest of mangroves looked dense and impenetrable. Every few breaths, I heard the roots clicking, reminding us they were living parts of the island.
“We should leave tonight,” Montgomery said. His face was hard, making it impossible to tell what he was feeling. “Edward, pack as much food as you can in the rucksacks and fill the waterskins. Juliet, go through your mother’s things. We’ll need parasols. Shawls. Anything to keep off the sun. And take everything you think is valuable. We might have to buy our passage back to London.”
“Assuming we find a ship,” Edward said.
Montgomery studied the sky. “The full moon was last night. The Polynesian traders might still be out. Their course takes them five miles from the island. The tide will bring us just south of their shipping lane. We’ll have to row a few degrees north to cross their course.”
I was starting to feel faint. My insides clenched, threatening to bring up bile from my empty stomach. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something would go wrong.
Montgomery rested a hand over mine. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I know the way. We’ll find a ship.”
The mangroves clicked louder. A shadow passed overhead, giving me a sudden shiver. The wind made the water shimmer as if something swam just below the surface.
We rounded a bend and saw the long dock stretching out ahead. I let out a tight breath. Soon the whole beach was in sight.
Tonight, I promised myself. It felt as unreal as a dream. My mind wouldn’t let me dare to believe it, but my heart pumped wildly.
Edward’s oar hit something hard in the water. He jerked it, but it was stuck. I frowned. We were too far out to graze anything along the ocean bottom. “It’s caught on something.”
“Maybe a coral reef,” I said. “Or a shipwreck.” I glanced at Montgomery, but his attention wasn’t on the oar. He was scanning the beach, body tensed, eyes narrowed like a hunter’s.
“What do you see?” I asked, feeling creeping tendrils of fear crawl up my back.
He shook his head, just a quick jerk. “Nothing.”
But he didn’t tear his eyes away. I sat straighter, gripping the sides of the rowboat. Suddenly we felt as small as a bobbing toy in the endless ocean.
Edward leaned over the side, fingers disappearing into the water as he felt for whatever had caught the oar. The boat rocked, suddenly unbalanced by his movements. I clutched the sides harder, as panic made my toes curl.
Montgomery tilted his head, his eyes still riveted on the shore. “Stop, Edward. Get your hand out of the water. Now.”
Edward started to pull back, but something quick and hard rammed the boat from underneath.
I yelped. The sudden jolt pitched me into the bottom of the boat, scraping my wrists against the rough boards.
Montgomery had braced himself to keep from falling. “Edward, get your blasted arm out of the water!” he growled.
“I can’t!” Edward was shoulder deep in the water, causing the boat to pitch at a dangerous angle. His gold-flecked eyes were focused on me, unreadable. “Something’s got me.”
“What is it?” I said, not daring to lean and pitch the boat farther.
Edward clenched his jaw to keep the panic at bay. “A hand.”
THIRTY-NINE