“But—”
“The Sisters,” he says simply, his eyes tense with fear. I give him a nod, to let him know that I understand, and he takes my hand and begins to pull me along.
The Sisters. Those horrible monsters that turned the sea pink with the meal they made of that boy. The Sisters, with their corpselike skin and tangled masses of seaweed hair.
A dark shape moves along the ocean floor.
“Swim!” he demands, and this time I’m able to make my body obey. But there’s laughter hanging in the air above us. I don’t need to look up to know that it’s Pan, floating safely above the deadly waves, waiting for us to leave the cover of the smoke. Mocking the pointlessness of our situation with his dark glee.
Rowan sees I’m lagging and he reaches for me, tugging me through the water as something cold and large moves beneath the waves.
“It’s not much farther,” Rowan calls, helping to tug me through the currents. The mouth of the cove is still about fifty yards off—a distance that seems endless to my aching arms and exhausted legs.
We’ll never make it without Pan or the Sisters catching us first. And even if we do, then what? All that waits beyond is the open sea.
But Rowan hasn’t given in, and neither will I. The water churns, and the cold bubbles rising from below turn the sea around us icy. But we swim on, him pulling me every so often, refusing to stop.
“Rowan!” I scream. Through the choppy waves, I see the massive creature.
I flail with a sudden spasm of terror, and my uneven strokes can’t keep my head above the waves. I come up again, sputtering for breath, trying to make my arms and legs work together to keep me afloat.
I thought the Sisters were terrifying before, but I didn’t understand. Not really.
The creature rising from the depths below is covered in a mossy layer of algae and speckled with bright patches of white. Barnacles, I think at first. But I’m wrong. They’re bones. Strings of skulls drape across the huge body of the beast, a horrible necklace of its trophies.
Both Rowan and I struggle against the pull of the water, which sucks us toward the creature as it rises from the deep. The opening of the cove is closer now—maybe thirty yards away. But the Sisters are closer too.
I can’t make sense of what I’m seeing, though—this can’t be the Sisters. As the creature rises, its great body coming to the surface, I realize that what I thought had been three mermaids is actually one enormous creature with three torsos and three heads. Its tangled masses of hair hang limp from its three large misshapen faces as it breaks through the surface of the water. Its body is the size of a whale, and it has tentacles that flail about, slapping at the water as it continues to rise up, up above the waves.
One of the giant tentacles rises, high above us.
This is the end, I think. After everything I’ve been through, this is how I will die.
The creature brings its massive tentacle down again, using it as leverage to turn in the water. Away from us.
Toward Pan.
“For the love of all that’s holy, I need you to swim, Gwendolyn.” Rowan’s voice comes to me like a dream as I gulp water and air and try to make sense of what I’m seeing. They are not attacking us. Perhaps they didn’t see us, or maybe they just don’t care, but the Sisters have risen out of the water, a dark mountain of tangling limbs and horrible faces, and they are attacking Pan.
Rowan pulls me along through the water, and this time I don’t hesitate. I force my legs to kick a few times more. I force my arms to crawl after him through the water, and we make it out of the cove—out to sea—before Pan can stop us.
On the count of three, they ran, each crouching low to the ground. As they went, the earth shook, like demons from below were rising to join the battle. The sky was alive, and bullets buzzed like hornets past the boy’s head. It was madness. And in the madness, the boy lost track of his brother. . . .
Chapter 29
BY THE TIME WE REACH A Rocky beach, We are both so completely exhausted that we collapse without any thought of Pan following us. Or anything else, really.
Some time later I wake with Rowan sitting close-by. His legs are pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them, like he’s trying to hold himself together. His eyes are taking in the sun as it sets over the endless sea, and his face is drawn and pale against the white slash of his scar. I have a feeling he’s thinking of Will. Of all the boys he lost today.
He chose me, I think.