I work the kids the way Fathom works me, strictly and impatiently. They are not prepared for my change in attitude. A few cry. Tess actually curses me out, and the others stand by, bewildered, but it starts to get results. Finn makes a sudden and shocking improvement. He might even be better than me. Pierre and Harrison make great leaps too. Still, William, Dallas, Priscilla, the three sisters Tess, Emma, and Jane, and a few others are having troubles. Chloe, who I am particularly tough on, manages to do something remarkable, creating a butterfly from the pool water. It rises over the surface and flutters around the room, only to splash down like rain all around us.
“A butterfly?” Doyle says, unimpressed. “It sounds like you’ve got two problems, Lyric. You’ve got kids who aren’t inspired and kids who are inspired by the wrong things.”
I wave my arm around at his park, with its perfect trees and grass and the seesaw and tire swings.
“This place isn’t helping them. You’ve built a fantasy world to keep them happy, and it’s messing with their heads.”
Spangler watches our argument.
“Please explain,” he says, snatching his tablet and typing away furiously.
“This place is too safe and happy. It’s phony, and to use these weapons, the kids need to feel something powerful and real and not . . . not sanitized. Georgia is one of the best we’ve got because her father’s death gave her something to feel. It was raw and tragic, and she’s channeled it into her ability. Listen, they’re all going to come along, but we need more time to find the things that burn inside them.”
“They need to feel something,” Spangler says, letting me know he understands.
As he and Doyle leave, I see Fathom enter for our training session. I had completely forgotten about it, so focused was I on getting the kids ready. I honestly don’t think I have it in me to be around him, even if he is trying to prepare me for war.
He walks over to the pool and undresses, and he’s ready to leap in when I stop him.
“Not today,” I say.
“There is not much time,” he argues.
“I know. I . . . I just can’t do this. I can’t be around you. I don’t understand how your mind works and . . . and when I look at you, I only think about our night and I don’t want to think about that anymore. I’m so over all of this.”
“Your anger with me is misplaced, Lyric Walker,” he snaps.
“Your buddy Spangler cut Arcade’s hand off, Fathom. He has tortured your people. He’s tormented my family, and he’s sending me to die. You’re helping him. I think my anger is placed pretty well.”
I hear the door bang open and watch Arcade stalk into the room. Two guards run after her with cattle prods. Bex is with them, as is my mother.
“Lyric, run!” Bex shouts.
I have to admit, I didn’t see this coming. I knew she was angry with me, but I assumed we had mutual enemies.
“Arcade, I’m sorry,” I say, but she doesn’t listen. Instead, she leaps from one end of the room to the other, crashing down on top of me. I had no idea she could do something so incredible, and I’m completely unprepared. I tumble back into the grass and stare up at her growling face.
“You have insulted me, Lyric Walker.”
“Arcade, stop,” my mother demands. “I am a Daughter of Sirena and your elder. You will stop this fighting at once.”
“My offense will be answered,” Arcade cries.
Her Kala spring from her arms, and she cries out in pain. The damage to her hand is affecting their release, but now that they’re out, she races at me, swinging her arms, trying to cut me in half.
“I have paid a high price since meeting you, bottom feeder. I promise you now that you will pay in kind.”
“Arcade, stop it!” Bex shouts, but the Triton ignores her.
She springs into the air faster than I can react and comes down on me again. Her arms rise high, the edges of her blades locked on my neck, and then she brings them down. There is a crash and an explosion of sparks. Fathom has extended his own blades and has blocked her from chopping off my head.
“No,” he says firmly. “I am responsible for your offense. I alone will bear your vengeance.”
Arcade leaps to her feet. The fury is replaced by a cool contempt.
“Do you love this thing?” she asks him, waving at me.
He takes a deep breath and nods.
“How deeply?”
“We mated,” he says.
“Lyric!” my mother cries angrily.
I’m too afraid of how Arcade is going to respond to be horrified, but she takes the news calmly.
“You are right, Fathom. It was you who have offended me. We are betrothed. We are selfsame.”
“You don’t love me,” he says to her. “Both our hearts belong to others, Daughter of Triton. I ask for you to release me from the bonds of our parents so that we can find the happiness we both want.”
“Wait! Don’t include me in this,” I snap, crawling to my feet. “I don’t want him.”
Raging Sea (Undertow, #2)
Michael Buckley's books
- Undertow
- The Sisters Grimm (Book Eight: The Inside Story)
- The Problem Child (The Sisters Grimm, Book 3)
- The Fairy-Tale Detectives (The Sisters Grimm, Book 1)
- Sisters Grimm 05 Magic and Other Misdemeanors
- Once Upon a Crime (The Sisters Grimm, Book 4)
- The Unusual Suspects (The Sisters Grimm, Book 2)
- The Council of Mirrors