Chapter 13

In the morning,I find Dad still in his recliner. I want to smack myself for forgetting I left him there. "Dad," I whisper in his ear. "Wake up."

His eyes blink open, bleary and bloodshot. "Hi, honey. Think you can get me an aspirin or something? I've got a splitting headache. I tried to get up last night, but I was too woozy."

Crap. Hadn't Liam predicted my dad would have a headache? Did he cause it somehow? I'd like to press Dad about yesterday's storm and my conviction that the negative impacts of climate change are already underway, but I'm too drained and he doesn't seem up to it. "I'm sorry. I can make some special tea Liam gave me for you. He says it will help you feel better."

"Liam," Dad mutters. "The boy has a way with plants."

Understatement of the century and another topic I prefer to avoid. If I tell him about Liam, then I'd have to admit he may be at least partially right about this island and the strange pull it has on me.

Dad drinks his tea, then shuffles to his room, and I try not to think about how depleted he seems. How lacking in vitality, a shell of his former self. Years have passed, I remind myself. And he's been through so much trauma.

I return to the balcony with a bowl of cereal and my wide-brimmed sun hat, thoughts of Liam invading my senses—the wet hair shading those brilliant eyes, that wicked warm smile. Then I remember what his sister said about how all the Landsider girls are drawn to him. The insistent menace behind her words. The girl means business and I'm not taking the bait, no matter how bright those silver eyes burn.

Instead, I think about what Liam said about listening to the island, to the thrum pulsing through my fingers and toes.

Overtaken by the sudden urge to thrust my hands into the soil, to pull up dead plants so the living ones can reclaim the little patch of ground, I hurry down to Dad's garden.

I sit in the sawgrass, yanking at dried stalks, the sandy soil cool to my touch. My repetitive efforts are mesmerizing, the buzz in my fingers smoothing to a steady hum. The sun bakes my back, the waves whispering in the distance. I close my eyes, slip my hands deeper into the soil, and wait, like a doctor listening to a patient breathe until, finally, the dancing plants I hallucinated on the ridge near the garden ease themselves into my thoughts.

The ocean's murmur grows distant. My head pulses like I'm drawing energy from deep inside the earth. I soak in the sensation, my mind blank and for once, free of questions.

I've had this sensation in my canyon garden. All these years, I thought it was Dad's memory tree drawing me there. But it was this feeling. And here on Salttain, it's magnified tenfold.

Liam's right. The island is calling to me.

What does it want? Did Tyler know this would happen? Or just hope it would?

ThenI smell it. A strange fragrance, at once rancid and sweet, yet delicate and inviting. Eyes still closed, I gather in the scent and let it envelop me.

In the fragrant silence, an image forms in my mind. A pale seedling pushes up from the ground, then a sprout, until a lone stem crowned with a cloud of white blossoms rises.

The magnificent plant leans toward me. I'm about to pluck one of the blossoms when the image shrivels and my ears fill with grinding discord. I open my eyes to find Randy Lambert watching me, a big smile on his face.

"Oh!" I hop to my feet and brush myself off, cheeks burning.

"I sure do have a knack for sneaking up on you when you're finding some quiet time. Sorry for startling you yet again, sweetheart."

"Oh, it's fine! I was weeding Dad's garden. It took a bad hit from the storm."

Randy scans the garden bed and nods. "Yep. Storm season round here can be brutal. But, like always, we pull together and get through. Just figured I'd stop by and check in on your da. See if either of you needs anything."

"Thank you. We're fine. He's resting now. But he seems to be okay. I'll tell him you dropped by."

His sea-glass blue eyes sparkle warmly, and I find myself adding, "Would you like to come in for some tea?"

"No thanks, dear. There's too much to do. In fact, I wanted to see if you both needed a ride to the benefit beach luau the Sea House is hosting tonight for the nearby islands. Coast Guard reports the outliers got hit even worse than the bigger ones, so we're going to try to raise some money. There's live music. And no one knows how to dance like we do on Salttain."

"Tonight?" I scrub at my unruly hair. "I'd love to go. But I'll have to see what shape Dad is in when he wakes up. Liam gave me some berries to help him."

At the mention of Liam's name, a fleeting shadow passes over Randy's smile. But it's gone so quickly, I'm almost certain I've imagined it. "Liam does have a very special knowledge of the indigenous plants on our little island," Randy says, his smile at full strength. "It's quite kind of him to share it with you."

I twirl a strand of hair, confused. His words are polite enough—so why do I think he's lying? "Yeah, it was. I can get Dad if you want."

"No need," Randy says. "Call later and I'll swing by to pick you up. We get going pretty late, after sundown. I sure hope you both can make it. Our beach parties are something else."

* * *

Dad sitsin the front seat of Randy Lambert's pickup as we pull up to the party, laughing with him like they're old drinking buddies. He's fully recovered, no sign of his head injury or the sickly state he was in this morning. Apparently, Liam's tea lived up to his claims.

On the beach, scattered bonfires illuminate the laughing faces of partygoers. Lights from the anchored boats dot the black ocean like fireflies. A massive canopy sprawls on the sand, garlands of fragrant flowers curling up its side poles. Beneath the canopy, worn carpets form the dance floor where people clap and stomp to traditional bagpipe and fiddle music.

I scan the bonfires that pepper the beach, searching despite myself. When there's no sign of Liam, my heart sinks a little. Instead, we encounter the already-drunk Lambert brothers, Wade and Brody, holding beers and laughing with a group of friends.

Beside them, Liam's twin, Aurora, resplendent in a flowing aqua dress, long black hair loose, is clearly not finding things as hilarious as her companions. She looks as if she's about to bolt when Wade grabs her by the wrist and jerks her back. The crowd laughs. Aurora breaks free and storms off. She doesn't seem to be much fonder of the Lambert boys than I am.

Eventually the drunk brothers notice our arrival and rush over, piling on Randy like they haven't seen their father in years. They greet Dad and me enthusiastically. I find myself flanked by Wade and Brody, who seem determined to appoint themselves as my bodyguards, as Randy steers Dad toward a group of men drinking around one of the larger bonfires.

"Leave the old men to their business. Come with us and you'll get the full Salttain experience," says Wade, tugging at my arm.

I glance after my dad, uneasy. I haven't seen him drink more than a glass of wine since I got here, but still wonder if this is the right situation to test his willpower.

Well, I'm not my father's guardian. And even though the brothers are tipsy and unruly, I'm curious. I let them bring me to the main tent where a string band and bagpiper, accompanied by three drummers, play wild, fierce tunes that tug at my soul.

Shoes line the perimeter of the pavilion. The barefoot crowd clears the dance floor and a red-headed girl in a flowing dress prances out, her athletic bends and turns at once balletic and lethal. They remind me of capoeira, the Brazilian art of fighting Tyler and I once took a class in.

The crowd parts again. Aurora, her hair wild, glides onto the dance floor, mirroring the girl's moves. The drums beat harder. The crowd claps to the rhythm, which escalates along with the dancers' undulations.

The dance transitions into a choreographed fight, legs kicking out in savage blows. Aurora lands one graceful high kick to the girl's temple and she crumples. The watchers roar.

"What the heck?" I say to Wade. "Did she knock that girl out?"

Wade and Brody's gazes are pinned on Aurora. "The hellcat is unbeatable," Wade says, eyes gleaming.

Only on Salttain. "This happens a lot?"

Brody smiles. "Aurora is the reigning Saranga champion on the archipelago."

"Saranga?"

"It's our form of ritual fighting. No woman has ever been able to beat Aurora," Brody says. "Damn if I wouldn't like to be the first man," he adds.

I frown. The unconscious girl lies where she's fallen. "Isn't anyone going to help her?"

"Our traditions are sacred," Wade hisses, still not peeling his eyes from Aurora.

"Your traditions?" I hug myself, bemused. The weirdness of this place goes well beyond the surface. I'm the outsider here, a Landsider.

I crane my neck to see if Liam's here yet. At least with him, I feel seen. But among these islanders, I'm an intruder.

Finally, to my relief, the unconscious girl staggers to her feet and stumbles away. An older woman with long white-blond hair and black eyes, an inverted image of Aurora, joins her on the dance floor, and the two begin a different kind of dance. People clap as they step, leaping and kicking high to the pounding drumbeat. They are breathtaking and glorious, their intricate footwork in perfect unison.

"Who's that with Aurora?" I whisper to Wade.

"Lila O'Donnell," he says, with reverence. "Liam and Aurora's mother. She was the reigning Saranga champion before she finally retired."

The crowd shuffles and there's Liam, looking as if he's been shoved onto the dance floor. He's cleaned up for the occasion, dark hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. He wears loose-fitting muslin pants and a short-sleeved tunic of the same fabric. There's something about him all dressed up that makes my chest tighten. He looks shy. Vulnerable.

The second the thought crosses my mind, I push it away. I'm not in the Liam O'Donnell sympathy business. So what if, for once, he doesn't want to be the center of attention? He's an enigmatic ass—when he's not busy saving my life or healing my dad with magic berries.

But that doesn't mean I can't appreciate his aesthetic potential.

At first, Liam stands perfectly still, his mother and sister dancing around him. People catcall and throw flowers plucked from the garland that twines the tent poles. The band picks up the pace. The drums beat harder.

Then, as if he's on strings, Liam begins to dance, a spinning, kicking, high-stepping marionette. The spectators clap in rhythm as the trio performs, arms at their sides, feet stomping in complex movements, totally in sync.

The crowd mobs the floor in a writhing mass. Wade tries to coax me out with him, but then a vexed-looking Aurora pushes her way through the bodies. As she tries to wriggle past, Wade takes her by the arm and they dance inexplicably away, leaving me alone.

I watch them, baffled. Aurora's contempt for Wade is as clear as daylight, yet there she is, dancing with him.

A different girl than the one I saw Liam with yesterday before the storm hit, with tawny skin and bright green eyes, skips onto the floor and joins him, as skillful and lithe as his mother and sister. The two of them come together in a single spinning mass.

Yep—Liam O'Donnell's a player, all right.

I watch the dancers and try to feign enjoyment, but the casual violence of the girl-on-girl brawl from before has set me on edge. The air's too heavy. My legs are leaden, but my fingers burn with that now-familiar sensation.

I suddenly feel very far from home—and, watching Liam and the girl kick and twirl in the movements of this strange dance, very lonely. The memory of sparring with Tyler all those years ago slips through and sinks its claws into my chest. I imagine us together, his arms around me, the surf blowing strands of gold hair into his eyes.

He was supposed to be here. To be kissing me under the stars. If he were, maybe he'd be able to help make sense of this place. Tyler was from here, yet no one except Randy seems to remember him, even the kids around our age.

Maybe he did meet my dad, but I can't imagine Tyler knew he was still alive all this time. His big regret must've been not telling me they knew each other. And I bet he kept that a secret because he didn't want to make me feel bad. He knew how rarely I got to see Dad myself.

Tyler would never have lied to me about something that important. He just wanted me with him. The ache of my loss gnaws deep, the careless brutality of these people like salt in a wound.

I edge back from the crush of bodies. Beyond the light of the scattered bonfires, the sand is velvet-soft and cool on my bare feet. At the water's edge, breakers crash to the beach in an endless cycle of advance and retreat.

The island expects something of me. Even Liam seems to expect something of me.

I have no idea what that is, but something tells me it's not a climate assessment.

Wind tousles my hair, cold seafoam nipping my toes. I try to lose myself in the drift of music and scattered lights beyond the waves, but the rolling breakers remind me of how the sea tore Tyler from my arms, then devoured him. His attempts to save me were his last act on this earth.

Hot tears scald my cheeks. Sure, I've got my dad back, but we're mostly strangers to each other. With Tyler gone, I'm a stranger here. A stranger even in the town I come from.

A stranger everywhere.

I wade into the waves, my dress a flower unfolding in slow motion. The current pulls me out, then carries me back to shore, again and again.

Even the ocean won't take me.

Fighting the rolling waves that will neither pull me out to sea or let me return to shore, I'm startled by the stirring of water near my legs. A head emerges and I'm about to scream when I realize it's Liam, still in his clothes.

"Nice night for a swim."

"Don't you own a bathing suit?" I snap, glad the saltwater spray conceals my tears. First his disappearing act off the bluff last night. Now this. "Are you stalking me?"

He ignores both questions. "You should get out of the water. You'll get hypothermia."

As if to prove his point, my teeth start to chatter. "Aren't you cold?" I say, more aggravated than ever.

"I'm used to it. Your da saw you walk into the waves and asked me to get you. There's a dangerous rip current if you go out too far. C'mon." He offers me his hand.

I'm freezing, but I don't want to go back to the party—if only to avoid proving him right. "I like it in here."

He rolls his eyes. "Look, my skiff's anchored right over there. I've got a wool blanket. How about I row you back to the dock?"

It's a short swim to the skiff, but I'm trembling all over and winded when Liam slides a strong arm under me and pulls me up into the little boat. I wrap the scratchy blanket around myself, my wet dress clinging to me. "That was pretty dumb," I admit between shudders. "I don't know what got into me."

"This island has a way of getting into your blood," Liam says with a smile. In his soaked shirt and pants, he still shows no sign of being cold. If Tyler had had Liam's affinity for water, maybe he'd still be alive. He'd be the one beside me in this boat.

Waves rock the skiff like a cradle, as if the ocean itself wants to soothe me. Scores of small boats surround us, their lights reflected in the water. "Where do all these other boats come from? How many islands are there?" I ask, in an effort to distract myself from thinking about Tyler.

I half-expect Liam to evade the question, but he answers readily enough. "There are lots of them scattered around. The whole archipelago is uncharted by design, except for our local maps. The people living on them go back for generations."

"What about your family?"

Liam gazes out to the horizon, his expression wistful. "My family has always spent our summers here."

Something about the sadness in his voice tugs at my heart. "And when you're not here…?"

He shrugs, not saying a word.

My irritation returns full throttle. "This game you're playing," I blurt. "I've had enough of it."

Liam turns back to me, eyes shadowed in the milky light. "Tell me your secrets and I'll tell you mine."

My fists clench. Rattled, I struggle to hold back the tears. "I don't know what you're driving at! I already told you my story."

Liam's eyes go diamond hard, his mouth pressing into a thin line. "Do you wonder why your father schemed to get you here, even though your mother did everything imaginable to keep you away?"

Shock reverberates through me. "How do you know anything about my mother? Unless you're lying about Tyler. Unless you do know him."

Liam shakes his head and chuckles. I want to smack the grin right off his face. "I don't. But I told you, the island speaks to me. The point is, your father needs you to be here. Desperately."

My heart pounds. "Is this how you have your fun? Messing with ignorant Landsiders? Stop playing head games with me. Please."

Liam's eyes go soft. "This island has great beauty alongside a deep darkness. And no matter how much science you throw at it, you can't change that. But," he adds, "I'll help you help your da. If you help me help Evan."

I try—and fail—to stifle a sob. "I can't fix what's wrong with a guy who fakes his own death and lets his daughter think he's dead for five years. And Evan just seems lonely and depressed."

Liam looks past me, out to sea. "It's much worse than that, for both of them."

I'm ready to dive back in the cold water to get away from this confounding boy. "What can I do for Evan? Be his friend? Let him paint me? If you care so much, why were you so rude to him? And why are you trying to scare me about my father? Things are messed up enough for me." I lean over the edge, poised to jump.

Liam takes a firm hold of my arm. "I'm not trying to scare you," he says, his voice a breath against my ear.

"Right now, you're pissing me off." I wrench my arm free and wobble, but Liam catches me before I tip overboard and sits me down on the boat's floor.

"Please listen," he says, his voice rough.

"Then just spit it out already!"

He squats beside me, eyeing me warily, as if he expects me to try to jump again. "There's a plant with special healing properties that grows on this island called the salttain weed. It's what gives the island its name. My family has a tiny stash of the dried stuff on hand for emergencies, but it's nearly gone."

Exasperation overwhelms me. This island boy has probably conned Landsider girls countless times and then laughed about it with his evil sister. "Another magical plant? Why don't you go forage for it yourself? Not that a plant can fix what's wrong with Evan. His rich mother should get him to a shrink."

"Evan's problem can't be helped by traditional medicine. Neither can your da's. I need you to help me find some."

Wow. All he's missing are some Tarot cards and a crystal ball. "Give me a break. I've had enough of the hocus-pocus stuff on this island. You're all delusional. Plus, last I looked, you're the plantmaster around here. Besides, I'm freezing and I really need to get out of this boat."

"Rosalie. Please. It's hard for me…to ask for things." The look in his eyes is pleading, almost desperate. If this is an act, he's damn good at his craft.

"Where is this magical mystery plant, anyway? Since I've been here, you've given me berries that healed my leg, tea that made my dad's headache go away, and made a raft from giant leaves. Why would you need my help? And what else is supposedly wrong with my dad besides being a coward and an asshole?"

"I've been looking. No one's found any in decades," Liam says softly, ignoring my last question. "If anyone did, it was stolen. Poachers used to cut down batches of it, then sell it on the black market. People died for it. Until it vanished."

I sink into a slouch. I'm not about to admit that I had a vision of a strange stalk rising from the earth of my father's garden. Or that I hallucinated a whole field of them.

"You feel it, don't you?" he says, leaning in closer.

I try to hide how being this close to him makes my cheeks flush. My bones vibrate with longing, as if I'm tuned to the island's frequency. No. To his frequency. "What makes you think I can help you find a mythical plant? I'm not a witch! Even as a botanist, I'm a rank amateur."

Liam's eyes brighten with wild energy. "The plant is sentient. It can evade harvesters. But if the right person comes along, it will show itself."

Riiiiight. "I bet that's what you tell all the girls who visit Salttain."

"No. And despite what my sister would lead you to believe, I don't make a sport of seducing Landsider girls. Besides, she scares them all off."

I can't imagine why. "So, what makes me any different than the others? Not that you're seducing me, of course."

"This island has awakened something in you," he says, sounding perfectly serious. "And I want—no, I need to help Evan. It's true we used to be friends, but that's not the reason."

Despite my doubts, my fingers tingle with an ache that's almost an itch. "And you think I can help because I found that garden you still won't admit exists? Is there some of this mystery plant in there?"

Liam glares at me. "Help me and I promise to help you."

"I didn't say I need your help. Evan seems nice enough. And he should be able to come out during daylight. He's not really a vampire, is he?"

"Please don't mock me," Liam says. "Look. I'm taking you back now. I can't…we can't be out here together."

"Why would anyone care?"

"That's just how it is," he snaps.

"Why?" I press.

He turns to face me so abruptly, the boat rocks. "Let it go."

"I'm asking you a simple question."

"I guess you're used to getting what you want," he spits out with surprising venom.

The words hit like a blunt object. I'm shocked by the anger behind them. "Nice. That's a hell of a way to talk to someone you're trying to convince to help you."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. It's just…" Liam's voice trails off. He looks almost sad, and despite myself, I'm having a hard time hanging on to my anger.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're infuriating?" I mutter.

"Everyone who talks to me," he says with a grin that quickly vanishes. "Look, Evan is—he's tried to kill himself, okay? And it might sound crazy, but this plant is the only thing that can stop him. I know you don't understand this now, but it can help you, too. It can help your da."

Crap. "Why would he do that? And would you please stop playing games with me? What's wrong with my dad?"

"It's been touch and go with Evan ever since his father died. Landsider therapy hasn't helped. As for your da, he'll need to tell you himself. It's not my place. So will you do it? Will you help me find this plant?"

"I–I will. But how do I find it? I haven't the vaguest idea," I say, though I'm pretty sure that I do. Two can play the lying game. "Is it in Aunt Millie's book? Did you send that to me?"

Liam looks me in the eye, his face stony and cold. He's about to respond when Wade comes splashing into the water. "Hey party poopers! Come out of there before the punch goes dry!"

We row to shore, then walk back to the beach a few paces apart. I'm still baffled by Liam's request. How could he know I've been hallucinating plants? And why does he believe an outsider like me can help, when he's the one who can create flowers that glow like streetlights?

This place is beyond weird, in a way that science can't explain. But who says I can"t use the scientific method to crack the mystery of Salttain Island? I never met a hypothetical problem I didn't at least try to solve, and I've never met one more vexing than the enigma that is Liam O'Donnell.