Undertow (Whyborne & Griffin #8.5)(10)



So much for my stupid dreams of being kissed. No one was going to kiss me.

Persephone had never mentioned Irene to me. And Irene had never said anything about knowing the ketoi. Of course, I hadn’t either—if our positions were reversed, no doubt she would have been equally shocked to find a summoning stone in my possession.

It didn’t matter Persephone hadn’t mentioned Irene to me, or me to Irene. What mattered was that if Persephone knew Irene was missing, she’d want to help find her.

Mr. Quinn had been right. I had to ask the sea for help.





Chapter 4





I sat on the stairs until I was certain everyone else was abed. Of course, Mrs. Yagoda chose that night to gossip with one of the neighbors, and it was nearly midnight by the time I heard her close and lock the door. She rattled around the kitchen for a time, then finally retreated to her own room. I waited for another half hour, giving her enough time to fall asleep, before creeping down the stairs.

I went as quietly as I could. If Mrs. Yagoda caught me coming downstairs fully dressed at this hour, she’d know I meant to sneak out. She had very stringent ideas about the behavior of young ladies, and instituted a strict curfew. If she caught me breaking it, I’d be turned out for certain.

Her restrictions had never really bothered me before. Other boarders had come and gone, as they met beaus and got married. A few young men had asked me to dinner or the theater, but never the one I wanted, so I’d declined all invitations.

I wished I might take Persephone to dinner. Then again, given her mania for waffles, perhaps breakfast would be better. I tried to imagine her at a café, sipping coffee and eating waffles with her rows of shark’s teeth.

I had the knife from beneath my pillow and removed a lantern from the sitting room. The door creaked when I eased it open. I froze, listening intently, but no sounds came from the direction of Mrs. Yagoda’s bedroom. Breathing a sigh of relief, I slipped out and shut it behind me.

I pulled my coat more tightly around me and kept my hand on the knife in my pocket. Though I meant to steer far clear of the more unsavory parts of town, I was still a woman alone at night on the street. Dr. Putnam-Barnett’s advice came back to me: “Aim for the eye or the groin. Putting a blade in either of those is guaranteed to dissuade even the most determined man.”

After an hour’s walk, I finally reached a stretch of beach on the outskirts of Widdershins. The waves rolled and heaved beneath the waning moon. Little flashes of bluish light sparked in them, as though stars had fallen into the sea and become trapped there.

Papa’s bones lay beneath similar waves, somewhere in the cold waters of the Bering Sea. And those of Oliver’s father, and the rest of the crew. Only wood and sail, along with a few sealed trunks had been recovered from the wreck of the Bedlam. The logbook hadn’t been among them, but Oliver received First Mate Young’s diary and a few belongings washed up inside one of the trunks.

I hated to think how their last moments must have been filled with pain and fear, the power of the storm overwhelming the ship despite all their efforts to keep her afloat.

I shook my head and slipped my hand into my pocket. I’d brought my summoning stone as well as Irene’s. I should use mine…but perhaps Irene’s would get Persephone’s attention faster.

The black stone lay heavy in my hand. It was magic—it had to be. But other than the strange symbols carved into the surface, it seemed like just an ordinary rock to my senses.

I threw the stone with all my strength. It vanished into the night, even the splash of its landing concealed by the growl of the waves.

I shuffled from foot to foot. How long would it take Persephone to respond?

The breeze off the sea sapped the heat from my bones. I went to sit on a low rock, my arms folded around me for warmth. The sea ballad Papa had so loved came back to me, and I began to first hum, then sing softly.





“Then three times ‘round went our gallant ship,

And three times ‘round went she,

And the third time that she went ‘round

She sank to the bottom of the sea.”





Another voice joined mine unexpectedly, far stronger and surer than my questionable singing. Looking up, I saw Persephone striding through the surf toward me, grinning as she sang:





“Oh the ocean waves may roll,

And the stormy winds may blow,

While we poor sailors go skipping aloft

And the land lubbers lay down below, below, below

And the land lubbers lay down below.”





The water shimmered on her orca skin, and her golden jewelry glittered in the moonlight. My mouth went dry at the sight. I rose to my feet, my heart quickened, and I hastily patted my hair into place.

“Is that what you are, Maggie?” she asked, laughing. She caught me around the waist and spun me; I let out a yelp of shock. “A land lubber?”

I grabbed my hat to keep it from flying off. I wanted to stay angry with her, for not telling me about Irene. But now that we were face-to-face again, it was hard to hold onto indignation. “First I’m a cuttlefish, now a land lubber?”

“Cuttlefish are better,” she said, and set me back on my feet. “Such cute little tentacles. I’m glad you used the stone.”

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