Chapter 26

Red-eyed,hair disheveled, Mrs. Bailey answers the door herself. She greets Randy warmly and pulls me into an embrace so tight I'm afraid my bones will crack.

"Despite what I said before, I'm glad you came, Rosalie. Nothing seems to give Evan comfort. But he keeps begging for you."

From the corner of my eye, I see Randy wink. I shudder, unsure how he'll convince this woman who worships science, medicine, and the power of machines to relinquish the care of her dying son to me. One week ago, if I were in her position, I wouldn't have either.

We follow Mrs. Bailey through darkened halls to Evan's room. The once-sunny space is now lit only by the dim glow of a bedside lamp and blinking medical apparatus. Evan's eyes are closed, recessed into the sunken hollows of their sockets. Randy whispers into my ear. "Leave Clarice to me. You see to your friend."

As he guides Mrs. Bailey to the corner of the room, I walk hesitantly to Evan's bedside. I have to tamp down my revulsion. The tendrils have thickened, licking Evan's jawline, spidering across his cheeks toward his eyes. One tendril hooks the corner of his mouth.

"Hey, Evan," I manage, stealing a glance at Mrs. Bailey and Randy, who are standing close together, whispering. Mrs. Bailey gestures. Randy implores. It doesn't seem to be going well.

Am I making a terrible mistake?

Evan's eyes blink open, and I stifle a gasp. His pupils are dilated like saucers, the whites bloody. I can almost sense the hardening growths inside of him, choking his organs, devouring the healthy flesh. If only there was time for me to research what this horror is. To piece together the strange hidden mystery of the People of the Hand and how it relates to Evan's malady. But there isn't. And if there was, would I really find answers in the annals of science?

"I just want to be done with this," he says, eyes roving past me. The illness has taken his sight.

I pull in a breath and resist the urge to run from the room. I can't fathom the agony he must be in. Was this what Millicent endured as she turned into a living tree? "Would you like to be outside in the night air again?" I ask, trying to sound more confident than I feel.

"It seems like such a long time ago," he says, with a flicker of a smile.

"I know." I rest a hand on his thin shoulder and flinch. The scales now cover his chest in a rough, bark-like crust.

Maybe Liam's right. Maybe it's kinder to promise solace than dangle false hope. I glance over at Randy again. He gestures earnestly as the filaments of his power enmesh Mrs. Bailey in a cocoon of light. She cries, occasionally looking our way, but then her stiff shoulders slump, as if a burden has been lifted from them.

Whatever uncertainty I have about my mission to save Evan, it's too late to turn back now. The die has been cast.

A moment later, a tearful Mrs. Bailey and Randy approach the bedside, arm in arm. I marvel as a few threads of Randy's persuasion unspool and hover above Evan's bed, then plunge into his temples.

If Randy's abilities are just remnants of the power inherited by the descendants of Atlantis, I shudder to think what the full-strength version could do.

"The boat," Evan says, as if hypnotized, "under the stars. That's where I want to be."

"You've got twenty-four hours, sweetheart," Randy says to me. "Mrs. Bailey agrees that further treatment will only cause Evan unnecessary discomfort and torment. Isn't that right, Clarice?"

Mrs. Bailey cuts me a worried look and nods. "Holding onto him like this has been selfish of me, Rosalie. Cruel," she says. "Thanks to you and our wonderful friend, I've come to my senses. I don't know what this island would do without Randy." Mrs. Bailey swipes at her tears, leans over, and kisses Evan on the forehead.

Evan smiles between short, shallow breaths and says nothing.

I touch his upper arm, one of the few places on his body not encrusted with growths. "Thank you for trusting me."

But his gaze is so unfocused and diffuse, I'm not sure if he hears me.

Filaments of energy coil around mother and child, wrapping them in an invisible web. I can't help but feel complicit. Dirty. Randy's influence is cheating, forcing Mrs. Bailey to go against her own instincts. Hopefully, the outcome will be so miraculous, I can let myself off the hook for asking Randy to tamper with their free will. For allowing myself to be manipulated by forces I'm ill-equipped to understand.

Did my mother know about all of this insanity, this strange legacy of mysterious forces and magic, and choose to keep my mind focused on science instead? Or was she as ignorant as I was?

* * *

It'sa breezy and mild night, the stars a spattering of silver across a velvet sky. We march across the moonlit dunes behind Evan's wheeled gurney like a funeral procession until we reach the boat dock. Once the attendants have secured the gurney and set up a morphine drip and oxygen, Randy shoos them away, flashing me a knowing grin.

I shrug off the creeping sense that I'm totally in over my head. As long as Randy's control of Mrs. Bailey holds, twenty-four hours is more than enough to do what needs to be done—especially if Liam shows up to help. But I wonder if maybe Randy Lambert is playing an entirely different game than I am, with a totally different deck.

Evan tries to speak from behind the oxygen mask. His gaze shifts aimlessly. "Are the stars out?"

A cold knot forms in my throat. "Yes," I say, leaning in close to his ear.

"Poor boy's not long for this world," Randy says, shaking his head. "Damn shame. I kept my part of the bargain. Time for you to keep yours."

I hurry down to the boat shed, leaving Randy to keep an eye on Evan—what choice do I have?—retrieve my remaining batch of salttain, and hand half of it over. Randy examines it, then sniffs, tastes it, and smiles. "It's truly a miracle."

"You didn't believe I had any?"

Randy shrugs. "Wade believed you might. I had nothing to lose for hoping."

He tips his straw hat, hops down to the dock, and mock-salutes. "A pleasure doing business with you, Rosalie Gatell. Godspeed."

Eager to be rid of him, I rev the engine and guide the cruiser out into the open sea.

I have no real idea where I'm going. But I have to trust that the island, imbued with the age-old wisdom of its long-lost mother, Atlantis, does. And that Liam will make an appearance.

The boat chugs along, sluicing through choppy, platinum-splashed waves. Soon, we're accompanied by a cluster of seals that leap and cavort alongside us. And sure enough, moments later, Liam climbs onto the deck, fully clothed and soaking wet. Checking on Evan, he shakes his head and settles onto a seat behind me in the cockpit. "I dressed for the occasion."

"Fetching," I say, stifling a smile. I try not to notice how his sodden t-shirt clings to his chest. "I was hoping you'd join me."

Liam's expression darkens. "How did you manage it?"

I keep my hands on the wheel, eyes fixed on the water. "I'm a woman of great influence."

But Liam doesn't laugh. "When we were kids, Evan's mother practically had him bubble-wrapped before she let him outside to play. What did you do to convince her?"

I try to ignore the growing pit in my stomach and focus on steering the boat. "I got the outcome we wanted, didn't I?"

"At what cost?"

A cold stone lodges in my throat. Silence hangs between us, a wall of ice I'm powerless to melt. Instead, I gesture to the frolicking seals who encircle us. "These guys friends of yours?"

"They think I'm their leader," Liam says, stiffly. "But you know what they say—in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king."

I watch as Liam gets up and walks over to Evan's gurney. Pushing the lank hair from Evan's ashen face, he whispers in his ear. I ache for this tender side of him, the one that he refuses to direct toward me.

When there's no response from Evan, Liam returns to his seat, his expression stony. Blinking back tears, I turn from him. "I couldn't let him die in that room. Take some satisfaction in knowing that even if we fail, Evan will be free."

"None of us are free," Liam says, his tone acid. "It was Randy, wasn't it? Mrs. Bailey would never give her consent without Randy forcing her into it. What you did was wrong."

"We made a deal, Liam. He needed something I had and vice versa."

"Randy doesn't make deals. He cheats and ruins everything in his path." Liam's voice cracks. I swivel to look at him.

"What happened to you, Liam? You never said."

Liam scans the horizon, watching the gulls that flap past as if he expects them to be listening in. His gaze locks on mine, his eyes glass shards.

Then he exhales, sinks onto the nearby bench, and the words pour out, his voice hollow. "Randy was obsessed with Lila, but she wanted nothing to do with him. We were the only people on the island he couldn't control. I'm sure if the Council had consented, he'd have gotten us all death sentences for Lila's supposed infractions. But we're an old family that can trace our origins directly to Atlantis. We have friends—but we also have enemies. By a slim margin, Randy convinced the Council to curse us. Aurora and I were nine. They claimed the sentence was, in fact, a mercy. That allowing us to roam the seas together for six months out of twelve—forever—was for our own safety. Because now Randy can never kill us."

His revelation stuns, then guts me. "Did you say forever? As in, you can't die?"

Liam nods and his voice trembles. "I wish they'd let him finish us off. But whether we're in our seal skins or our human ones, we're immortal. Never aging, never dying, forced to lose everyone we love."

"Oh, Liam," I say, my voice a rasp. I'd take his hand and squeeze it, but I'm sure he'd just pull away. So instead I stand there, gazing out over the waves, until something he just said occurred to me. "Did you say your seal skins?"

Wordless, Liam nods.

This just gets weirder and weirder. "What if someone finds them? Or cuts them up?"

He gives me a small, crooked smile. "Ours are well hidden. But if we can't reunite with our skins, we'll return to the sea in our human form. With our minds gone, we'll swim and forage forever. Rumor has it there're still some lost souls out there on the smaller islands, convinced they're seals, unable to die."

No wonder he was so desperate to heal Aurora. What a horrible fate. "And there's no cure for it?"

Liam's voice is a monotone. "That's why it's called a curse, Rosalie."

I'm speechless. We've crossed over the boundary of reason and science to where just about anything is possible.

But Liam isn't finished. "Randy realized his mistake soon enough. By the time I was fourteen, though I'd only spent half of those five years on land, it was plenty of time to plot how I was going to make him pay."

"I'm so sorry." Frozen with pity, I peer across the waves, not knowing what else to say.

But the floodgates have opened. Liam can't seem to stop. "He retaliated by getting the Council to add to my sentence, to reduce my days on land for punishment. Soon I was down to three months out of twelve. Three months to walk on two legs. Three months to feel the sand under my feet, the dirt in my hands. To make things grow. And three months to take him down."

My tears come unbidden. This was what Randy meant when he insinuated how Liam would pay for any crime. Even a minor violation means fewer days for him to be human. I want to ask him what thoughts he has as a seal. If he's still himself or a creature of the sea. But terror overtakes me. "What's the endgame?" I whisper. "What does Randy want?"

"He's a petty, angry man who breaks toys he can't have, like a spoiled child. He's been in love with my mother since they were kids. She's never wanted any part of him and married someone else," Liam says.

I stare at him, incredulous. "And for that, he had you all turned into seals?"

"Partly. There are legends that a power-mad mage whose raw ambition sank our ancestral home eons ago will return. That Atlantis will rise again." He clears his throat. "I've often wondered if that's Randy, or if he's just an extremely pissed-off guy, infuriated that he still can't break free of her Siren's hold on him. Trust me, if we could drop our Siren power, we'd shed that part of ourselves like our seal skins."

My jaw drops. "Did you say Siren? Like those creepy mythological creatures who lured men to their deaths?"

Liam's knee bobs. A tell. I'm making the Sea King edgy. He pauses and looks out at the water. "It's not like that, Rosalie. We don't lure people. Not on purpose. We just—" He exhales. "Ugh. I've never had to explain this stuff before. It's been passed through my family for generations."

"This is what you didn't want to talk about the other night," I say, realizing.

"I'd rather not talk about it now. But it's not fair to you. You need to know."

He looks me in the eye and my entire body quivers. "We're not unusual for Atlanteans. Being magnetic, having powers of attraction. That's what being a Siren means, not really much else. Back on Atlantis, our powers evolved to attract and repel intruders as needed. We still use them for that purpose. But Randy hates my mother for having such a hold on him."

"So, what you're saying is that you're supernaturally irresistible."

Liam laughs and gestures to a group of seals in the distance. The air is misted, as if we've sailed into a humid weather pattern. "I am to those guys, at least."

I was joking, but if the truth be told, his confession of his family's Siren charms unsettles me. Am I like Randy, captivated by supernatural longing? Will I grow that desperate to be free of Liam's hold on me? And am I attracted to him for himself, or because of some kind of mythological Siren's pull?

No wonder he said he'd feel better if I was repulsed by him. And no wonder he's a magnet for all those girls, local and Landsider. They literally can't help themselves.

"I don't use my Siren gifts to coerce people, if that's what you're thinking." He sounds worried. "Lila doesn't, either—no matter what Randy accuses her of doing. But try telling him that. He hates the way he feels about her. He can't shake it, so of course he blames her for it…and by extension, me and Aurora, as well."

I gaze past the seals, to the choppy waves. Thin skeins of mist drift by and I think about how many times thick fog materialized out of nowhere. Like the night Tyler died. "Do you think he's tracking us?"

Liam shoots me a relieved glance, as if he'd rather talk about Randy than Sirens, too—which is really saying something. "What do you think? I'm one of three people on this island he can't control. It's possible you're the fourth. Do you think he's okay with that?"

Despair washes over me. "But then how do we?—"

"The ancient wards were originally meant to keep Landsiders away from our sacred spaces," Liam says. "Creating and maintaining them is my family's legacy. Right now, the wards are all we have to keep Randy off of our trail and still save Evan. The only place powerful enough to heal Evan is the Garden."

"The one you insisted didn't exist? And now you're going to bring us there?"

"Did you think I'd just let Evan die?"

I'm about to reply when the sound of strangled gagging interrupts us. Even with the oxygen mask strapped to his face, Evan strains for air. I crank up the tank dial to maximum, but it's not enough. "His lungs are failing. We have to do something fast. He's not going to last long enough for us to get him to the Garden."

"There's a warded area close by. We can perform a small healing ritual there before we continue on."

"He's dying right now!"

Liam grips my arm tight, his fingertips pressing into bone. I flinch. "Any ritual you perform outside the wards will summon Randy," he says, his voice rising over the chugging engine. "He isn't interested in saving Evan. Don't you get that? He's using you to lead him to the sacred place my family's managed to keep hidden for centuries."

"What do you mean?"

"He's been trying to find the Garden my whole life," Liam says, exasperated. "And if you act outside of the wards, you're going to lead him to it. He's used your desire to help Evan to manipulate you and you fell right into the trap he set."

I pull in a sharp breath. How could I have missed this? All this time, it's been Randy in the shadows, pulling me toward him, closer and closer.

It's not Tyler who drew me here at all. It was Randy, manipulating him, causing him to act on his behalf.

So many of the people I've known have had a connection to Randy Lambert. He's been behind all of it, pulling the strings.

He is the spider at the center of a web of lies.

And for reasons I don't yet understand, I'm the fly.

"Why? What does he want?"

"Randy would do anything to harness the Garden's power," Liam says, sounding bitter. "But it has ways of keeping itself safe. My grandda and his da before that were its Keepers…in case you've ever wondered about my way with plants."

He gives me a small, resigned smile. "Our Siren problem is our legacy's unwanted side effect for tending the Garden. In order to protect the Garden, we need to control who sees it and who doesn't. The Council tried to strip Lila of the privilege, but only the Garden decides who its Keeper is. It's still under her care."

"That means you're the next one." No wonder he's so passionate about keeping it hidden—and why he freaked out so badly when he realized I'd stumbled on it.

Liam shakes his head. "It's not fair to leave it untended nine months out of twelve. I'm trying to find someone the Garden will accept to take my place." He looks away, but I catch the pain he works so hard to hide. Anger flares inside me. Liam hasn't just lost time on land, he's been cut off from a legacy that is rightfully his.

And if Randy has anything to do with it, that legacy will be harnessed for some nefarious end I can't even begin to fathom. I study the furrow between Liam's brows and suddenly understand how hard it must be for him to trust me. To trust anyone.

"But you agree the Garden is the only place we can truly heal Evan."

"It is," he says softly, then looks away.

I swallow past the burning lump in my throat and scan for signs of mist or thickening fog. But the horizon is now clear, the stars glittering through patches of ragged clouds. We slice through mercury waves, the moon a silver coin. I gun the engine until we reach the shallows, where pointy rocks like dark teeth block our further progress, and drop anchor. Liam straps our paltry portion of salttain to his back, and we manage to get the gurney and oxygen tank to dry land.

Once Liam is satisfied we've located a warded area, we rest Evan on the ground, scoop out shallow holes, and burn the mashed salttain blooms. Pungent smoke rises in swirling tendrils, soothing Evan's breathing well enough for us to discard his oxygen tank. I'm painfully aware of our dwindling supply of salttain, but Liam doesn't want to risk summoning Randy, or worse yet, Wade, who may be lurking in the wilds for an opportunity to strike again. Instead, he scouts ahead for warded places to burn tiny doses of the plant and keep Evan stable enough for the journey.

We cross the terrain, carrying Evan, who's still breathing on his own. Thank goodness he's so light. Even so, Liam's paranoia has me on edge. I imagine Randy or Wade stalking us at every turn.

After a steep climb up a narrow rock trail, we reach a circular clearing. I gasp. Polished stone steps textured by thousands of symbols gleam in the moonlight. It's the amphitheater! And there, in the center of the stepped rock, is the circular walled garden with no entrance.

"You already know this place," Liam says, more of a statement than a question.

"Yes," I say. "You didn't want me to find it."

"Now you know why."

The power that emanates from the stone travels through me like current. Liam gathers some of the vines and stalks that sprout from the walls of the rocky hollow and stacks them in a pile. We settle Evan on the ground and cover him with vines and flowers until only his pale face shows. Resting peacefully, he looks more like a sleeping boy than a dying one.

We both startle at the loud growl that comes from behind. A dirt bike careens across the smooth rock at a ridiculous clip and topples, throwing its rider.

"Holy shit," I say, but Liam has already taken off at a run.

Aurora lies sprawled face down. Liam turns her over. She's bleeding from a gash in her head.

"Found you," she murmurs, eyes unfocused.

"Are you an idiot?" Liam shouts. "Wade could be out there." He tries to help his sister to her feet, but her legs buckle.

"There's trouble," she says, her voice barely audible. "The Coast Guard is asking people about Wade's disappearance. Liam, people are saying there's a warrant out for your arrest."