Brightly (Flicker #2) (22 page)

“You don’t know that.” Clementine pulled away from him and squeezed her hands together, looking pained. “But if you won’t see reason, I guess there’s nothing for it.”

When she first saw the Deception Pass Bridge in daylight, Lee had found it jarring and unnatural, a massive steel spider web that stretched across the pass, dividing sea and sky. Lee and the others had paced up and down the walkways on either side of the bridge, studying the area from above, while cars whizzed over the bridge in both directions.

The bridge had two sections and connected three islands: First, it stretched from Fidalgo Island in the north to tiny Pass Island, which sat in the middle of the water and acted as center support for the bridge. The second section connected Pass Island to Whidbey Island in the south. From end to end, the bridge was more than a quarter mile long.

The view from the bridge was breathtaking, though Lee thought it made the forest look deceptively small, the trees shrunken to matchsticks. When she looked down at the swirling currents far below, Lee caught herself grasping the railing with both hands as she searched the water for any sign of the serpent. On the western side of the bridge, the water stretched to the horizon. On the eastern side, Lee could see the mainland in the distance, lined with trees.

They returned when night fell, climbing down to the hillside beneath the Whidbey Island end of the bridge, not far from where the lattice of steel beams was anchored in the steep rock face. Fog had rolled over the water and swallowed everything north of Pass Island. From where Lee stood, the other half of the bridge disappeared into the fog, stretching into the unknown.

Cars still sped across the bridge, fewer now that it was night, their headlights illuminating the misting rain that had started to fall. Beyond the roadway, all was darkness and fog. Even the water was just a dark glimmer. While her locket sharpened her vision enough that she could make out her surroundings, Lee knew that without it, she would be as good as blind.

“If you want cover,” Alice said, pulling her jacket tighter around herself, “it’s not going to get much better than this.”

“She’s right,” Filo agreed. “I can hardly see a thing in all this fog.”

Henry pulled off his backpack, dropping it by his feet. “Then let’s get started. Stay up here, if you can.”

Jason glanced up at the bridge. “‘Call and it will answer,’” he mused. “What did she mean by that?”

“You’ll see,” Davis told him. There was a note of hopelessness in his voice, like he’d given up on something. Like he’d let something go.

When Henry stepped forward, Clementine grabbed his arm. He looked over his shoulder at her, saying nothing. The rain had darkened her hair; damp blond strands blew across her face. She looked like she wanted to say something—but in the end, she let him go, too.

Henry climbed down to the beach and walked to the water’s edge. He stood there for a long time, looking out across the black water. The rain was falling harder now, drumming among the trees. Lee wished they could afford to wait for the weather to clear, but that could potentially take days—days they simply didn’t have. Henry had insisted that the rain wouldn’t hinder his magic, though, so she tried to be optimistic.

“What’s he doing?” Alice whispered. She was wearing the crystal charm she’d bought at the Goblin Market, Lee noticed. It hung against her chest, casting soft blue light that illuminated her face.

“He’s calling,” Clementine replied simply. “We just can’t hear it.”

“Does he do this often?” Nasser asked. “Summon animals?”

Davis shook his head. “Usually, he doesn’t have to. They find
him
.”

“What do you mean?”

“If he stays in one spot for too long,” Davis said, “animals start coming out of the woodwork. Cats, dogs, birds, deer, moose. Anything and everything. We have to make sure all the windows are closed at night, or we’ll wake up with birds and squirrels in the house.”

“He doesn’t do it on purpose,” Clementine added. “They’re just drawn to him. He can’t completely turn off whatever it is that attracts them. But he can turn it
up
if he wants to. Amplify it. That’s what he’s doing. You’ll see.”

“Well, I can hardly see a thing,” Lee muttered, reaching for Nasser’s hand. When her skin touched his, it was like a grimy film was lifted from her eyes. She never appreciated the power of the Sight more than at nighttime: Nasser, Filo and Alice had eyes that took in much more light than hers, letting them see with incredible clarity, even in conditions like these.

Precious little moonlight broke through the clouds, but while she shared Nasser’s vision, Lee could see Henry clearly, still standing by the water.

Near fog-shrouded Pass Island, the water began to churn, a swirling current that grew larger and faster. Lee remembered the news broadcast she’d seen. Images of kayaks and small boats being dragged under the surface floated up behind her eyes. Goose bumps rose all over her skin that had nothing to do with the cold.

From the center of the whirlpool, white water exploded upward with a great crash—and the serpent burst upward with it, rising and rising, twenty feet of black iridescence, slick and streaming water. Tongues of white mist curled around its long body, most of which seemed to be hidden beneath the surface. The hard ridges and crests of its head made Lee think of dinosaurs, of primordial beasts that belonged to an older world.

The serpent opened its jaws, revealing double rows of jagged teeth, each tooth as big as a steak knife. It
screamed
, the sound like a river raging through Lee’s skull.

The scream hit Lee like a cold, heavy slap; she felt herself recoil automatically, cringing away. She wasn’t alone: When she looked up, she saw that the others had all assumed defensive postures. Even Filo had half-turned away from the water, his shoulders braced and his head ducked. Nasser was squeezing her hand hard.

But Henry didn’t move. He stood perfectly still, his head tilted back, gazing at the serpent that swayed above him.

In the water, the end of the serpent’s tail lashed back and forth. The sea monster threw back its head and gave another cry, this one accompanied by a spray of steaming water that plummeted down like rain.

Around Henry’s feet, the water rippled with a different pattern, pale green sparks skipping over the surface. The wind blew across the water, carrying with it an echo of Henry’s magic and a faint smell like salt water and wood. If she concentrated, Lee could feel the edges of his magic pressing outward. Calling.

When the serpent turned its black eyes on Henry, its long body went very still. A shudder passed over it, and it shook its head with a snort, like it was trying to shake something off. With a shriek, the serpent surged forward, diving toward Henry, but Henry didn’t move. He just raised one hand, palm toward the serpent. The creature stopped short, the end of its nose just inches from Henry’s face.

The serpent dwarfed Henry. Its head alone was longer than his entire body, and Lee could see the massive teeth that crowded its still-open mouth. But it didn’t move. It just stared at Henry, gills quivering.

Slowly and experimentally, Henry laid one hand on the serpent’s head, then the other. It flinched, the motion traveling down its body like a shock of electricity. The serpent twitched and shivered, as if trying to get loose, but Henry kept his hands pressed firmly against its shiny skin. Lee could hear his voice, but she couldn’t make out the words.

The serpent was hissing between its teeth, clouds of mist spraying from its nostrils with each loud huff of breath. The end of its tail slapped the water. Henry raised his voice, and Lee realized he was repeating a phrase, over and over, like a spell, but it was only when he began to shout that she understood.

“You have to go back!” he yelled, over the hissing of the serpent. “You have to go back!
You have to go back!
”

The serpent’s jaw twitched open and its body rippled. Somewhere outside her body, Lee thought she felt something crack: the pressure of Henry’s magic as the serpent broke through it.

The monster screamed, so loud and elemental that Lee felt it in her bones, and jerked its head to the side, breaking free of Henry’s grasp. Then it whipped its head back around and caught Henry in its teeth.

Henry screamed—once, loud, the sound like a wound ripping open, as the serpent retreated into deeper water. It rose, its body unspooling like a snake rising from a basket, Henry dangling from its mouth. The serpent’s head was almost halfway between the water and the underside of the bridge. It was bigger than Henry had estimated by a good twenty feet.

At almost the same moment, Clementine and Filo ran forward, skidding down the hillside to the water’s edge, with the others tumbling after them.

Davis pulled off his backpack and dropped it at his feet. He yanked several objects from the pack: a quiver already filled with arrows that he slung across his back and a compact bow that he unfolded with several quick, practiced motions.

In seconds, Davis nocked an arrow and drew back the bowstring. A scarlet flame bloomed on the arrowhead, defying the rain.

Davis’ aim roved, following the serpent’s movements, the red light dancing in his dark eyes. At last, he loosed the arrow; it streaked through the darkness like a tiny red comet and struck the serpent dead in the eye.

The serpent let out an unearthly scream. When its mouth opened, Henry plummeted. Before he even hit the water, Clementine lunged forward like a girl possessed, diving headlong into the pass.

“Clem!” Davis screamed, his voice raw. “Clem, the current’s too strong!”

But it was too late. Lee could see Clementine’s white-blond hair, a stark contrast to the black water, as she was swept along, fighting the current. Without the benefit of Nasser’s Sight, it took Lee a moment to spot Henry, a dark shape struggling in the darker water, borne along by the powerful current.

With grim determination, Davis nocked another burning arrow. The serpent’s tail was lashing wildly. Smoke spiraled from its ruined eye. Davis released the arrow, this one striking below the creature’s head.

The serpent swiveled its head around until its good eye found Davis. Its jaws opened again and it sprayed a powerful jet of scalding water. Davis barely managed to leap out of the way. Drawing another arrow, he darted halfway up the hillside, away from the others.

Alice pulled off her backpack and held it open. A white glow illuminated the inside, and a dozen origami birds shot out: little scarlet phoenixes. Shimmering strings of magic connected Alice to each bird. Her hands moved in swift, sweeping arcs, guiding the birds like marionettes, and they flew out into the rain.

When the serpent opened its mouth to spray another jet, three of the phoenixes darted between its teeth. Alice clapped her hands, her eyes flashing as the paper burst into brilliant white flame. The serpent screamed, tossing its head, as the other phoenixes circled it. Each one was glowing faintly, alive with energy.

“They won’t last long with all this water,” she yelled to Davis. “Maybe another minute. It’s hard to keep them in the air.”

“Got it,” Davis called back, loosing another arrow.

Near the shore, a smaller splash caught Lee’s eye: Clementine, holding Henry’s head above the water. Somehow, she was towing him back to shore. She looked like some drowned and vengeful spirit, her face and hair shockingly pale, her eyes a merciless blue.

For a second, Lee thought she glimpsed seaweed floating nearby, but when looked again, she saw only water.

Clementine half-carried Henry onto the beach. He was walking, but he leaned heavily on her, coughing up water and stumbling as they made their way onto the hillside.

When Clementine helped Henry lower himself onto the ground, his whole body was shaking and his breath was coming in gasps. His shirt was ripped at the shoulder and chest. Nasser knelt beside him and peeled the fabric back, revealing a semicircle of deep punctures that reached from below his collarbone around to his shoulder blade, each one pumping blood.

“Lee,” Nasser said, shrugging off his backpack.

She didn’t need any more instruction. She yanked the zipper open and pulled out a handful of clean cloths. He applied them to the punctures, pressing firmly. Henry made an agonized noise, but Nasser didn’t let up.

There were more punctures than he could easily cover on his own, so Lee helped apply pressure. In a moment, the cloth was soaked through with rainwater, but she kept pressing. A bright red stain bloomed under her hands, spreading like the petals of a terrible flower. The ground beneath him was dark with rain, and now blood. Henry’s teeth were gritted. His whole body was tense, strung tight, a wire about to snap.

Filo stripped off his jacket and held it over Henry, trying to shield him from the rain. Clementine and Jason did the same, but with the wind blowing hard enough to make each droplet sting as it struck Lee’s face, there was no way to shelter Henry from all of it.

“You need to breathe,” she heard Nasser say. “In through your nose, out through your mouth. Yeah, just like that. Good.”

In the water, the serpent was thrashing. Its tail lashed, striking out at one of the bridge supports, as it sprayed another jet of steaming water at Davis. He rolled out of the way, but Lee heard him shout when the spray caught one of his legs.