We paddle out of the harbor on choppy waves. Phaestion’s face is beaming. He seems ready to conquer anything. All I feel is the sickening twist of fear. I rev the blast engine, and the sonic pulse propels us through the high waves of the open sea. Phaestion leaps onto the bow. He holds his stance with superhuman balance even as the boat crashes into the breaks. We’re quickly drenched with sea foam. Phaestion howls with delight.
“I’ll take us around to the north side of the isle!” I shout over the engine. “Once we get within earshot, I’ll have to cut the power or risk scaring them off.”
We round the island underneath the great cliffs. I spot the nook high up where Nadia and I have spent so much time. I turn off the engine.
“Are they here?” Phaestion asks. “I don’t see them.”
I hold my finger to my lips, indicating the need for quiet. We slowly paddle to an outcropping of rocks a few kilometers from the isle. A cloud passes overhead and swaths us in shadow.
“Phaestion?”
“What?”
“The weather’s shifting,” I say with trepidation.
He fires me a look of annoyance.
The boat slides closer to the rocks. We can see them now—three sirens. Their pearlescent bodies shimmer against the green of the sea. One of them throws her hair back in a rainbow shower of anemone tendrils. The filaments dance with an array of color. They’re beautiful. Remarkably human and alien all at once. The sound of their call feels magnetic, pulling us toward the rocks.
“Wow!” Phaestion exhales.
The sirens’ heads snap up. Their hair flares with violent bursts of color. Their slitted eyes narrow, and their calls turn to shrieks as they spot us. They dive into the water, their shimmering bodies visible just below the waves.
“They’re getting away!” Phaestion cries.
He grabs an oar and snaps it like a twig against his knee, creating a sharp wooden stave from one fragment. Thunder crashes, and the sky spills forth a deluge.
“By the twisted star, what are you doing?” I shout above the maelstrom.
He poises the stave above his head.
No! Something inside me screams. I hurl myself at him, tackling him just as he throws the spear. It torpedoes into the water wide of its target.
“What did you do that for?” He throws me off him.
“Why would you try to kill it?” I fire back.
The argument is cut short as the water beneath us roils. The boat rocks like a seesaw, water overflowing everywhere.
“We’re tipping!” I shout.
Phaestion presses his limbs to the sides of the boat for stability. “Just hang on!”
It’s no use. I’m flung into the air.
“Edmon!”
It’s the last thing I hear before I smash into a curling wave. Through darkness, I struggle for the surface. Brine fills my nose and mouth. I flail my limbs, then realize I’m swimming in the wrong direction, down rather than up.
Idiot!
My lungs are on fire. Something whooshes nearby. I risk opening my eyes. It’s a siren, her iridescent scales glowing. The filaments of her hair flare out like the snakes of a medusa’s mane. She opens her mouth, revealing row upon row of vicious needle teeth. I scream, stupidly releasing all the oxygen from my lungs. Her webbed hands outstretch to grab me.
Suddenly, I’m swept aside. The current carries me in its clutches. Something huge circles below me. The siren shrieks and swims away faster than I ever thought possible, then disappears as if swallowed.
A gigantic green eye opens before me. My head feels dizzy. Blackness clouds my vision. Water fills my mouth.
Hands grab hold of me. I’m pulled up away from the eye. Next thing I know, I’m vomiting seawater into the boat. Phaestion pounds my back.
“What happened?” I cough out.
“I dove in to rescue you,” he says over the torrent.
“The siren, the eye,” I sputter. “There’s something down there!”
An explosion rips the surface of the ocean. A geyser soars into the air, flinging the boat across the waves. A hideous shriek thrums through my entire body as a colossal eel-like creature bursts from the water then dives back down.
“By the twisted star!” My voice is hushed by the awesome sight.
“A leviathan!” Phaestion echoes.
He grabs an oar and paddles furiously. I jump to the blast engine and pull the rev cord. Nothing. I pull again. Damn the ancestors!
“Hurry!” Phaestion screams.
“It won’t turn!”
The creature circles beneath us then bursts forth from the depths again. His dragon’s head breaks the surface, and his great green eyes open. The large pupils dilate with something more than primitive intelligence.
Phaestion brandishes the remaining oar like a sword. His normally sure and steady hands shake wildly.
The creature opens its maw, displaying an incredible array of enormous razorlike incisors. Its shriek knocks us from our feet to the back of the boat. The leviathan bobs and weaves its massive head, following us, a predator toying with its food.
Phaestion stands, but I motion for him to stay back. I don’t know why, but I feel something. This creature won’t harm us, I realize.
The monster’s eyes flash. His nostrils flare. I am sucked toward his inhalation.
He’s smelling us!
The creature snorts like a massive “humph.”
I smell the odor of a thousand fermented sea creatures in his breath. Still, I stand my ground in spite of my terror. The rain ceases. The only sounds are the creaking boat, the waves, the breathing of two boys, and a monster. I raise my hand in some sort of greeting.
“What are you doing?” hisses Phaestion.
I have no idea.
I step forward, my hand centimeters from the enormous snout. Giant tendrils extend from its nostrils like the elongated mustaches of some ancient guru. Thunder crashes, and rain falls once more. The creature shrieks. I’m blown flat on my back as it dives beneath the sea. The splash is tremendous. It smashes against the deck of the boat with incredible force.
“Hang on!” Phaestion grabs me.
We plaster ourselves to the deck as we’re hit by a massive wave. It propels us with terrifying speed toward the cliffs.
“We’re going to hit!” I shout.
“What do we do?” Phaestion screams.
“Toss me the oar!” I plunge it into the sea like a rudder, trying to turn us.
“It’s not working!” Phaestion shouts.
I paddle with all my might against the current, silently cursing my companion for destroying our other oar.
“Brace for impact!” Phaestion screams, echoing dialogue from every space opera aquagraphic we’ve ever seen.
The cliffs rush to meet us. I keep paddling furiously, my arms on fire. Here it comes! Miraculously, our pace slows, and at the last second, the wave dissipates. I reach out with the oar and stab against the rocks, jamming us away from impact as much as I can. We bump into the cliffs with nary a sound. I collapse back in the boat, angry, relieved, and exhausted.
I hear laughter building slowly, and I look up to see Phaestion flop against the hull, giggling with delight. I stare at him as he laughs and laughs and laughs.
Crazy bastard! This is all his fault!
My knuckles whiten on the oar. I stand and glower at him. I raise the oar, ready to smash it on his fiery head. He looks up, points, and howls even harder.
Lightning crashes. I slip and fall on my rear. “Ow,” I moan.
Phaestion hoots with joy, and now I can’t help but giggle, too.
We’re alive. Against all odds, we’re alive.