Tides Read online

  “Pathetic,” he huffed, flexing his arms and hearing the shirt’s seams rip. He knotted his dreadlocks with a loose strip of cotton he tore from one of the sleeves. He rolled the pant cuffs once more, wishing they weren’t so tight around his calves.

  He watched the humans leave the Center one by one. Mara said they’d leave early today for the idiotic human ceremony she was going to on Star. Ronan clenched his fists. The way humans danced, it was practically sacrilege. They had little grace and no focus, and it seemed they danced only to impress one another. He couldn’t imagine why Mara would want to join them, unless it had something to do with the skinny, weakling human whose clothes he’d borrowed. Maebh’s insisting she go was even harder to accept.

  He wondered if the Elder was enjoying this, knowing Ronan had gotten what he wanted, only to lose his sister’s company during the ceremony. When she told the younglings, he had been flooded with relief. He remembered Mara’s first ceremony, only a few seasons after his own, and the happiness he’d seen on her face after her first change. Ronan wanted her to see that happen to the younglings; he wanted her to finally understand the joy that helping to raise her had brought him. He wanted her to be there when they saw the younglings’ human faces for the first time.

  Unbidden, his mind brought up the image of Aine’s smile when she first shed her skin.

  His fists tightened again. Mara should be at his side tonight, to witness this, to help keep them safe.

  Instead, she was with a human. Ronan had pointed out the irony of it to Maebh, that Mara was the one leaving instead of him. But when a great wave of sadness had flooded into him through their link, he’d stopped speaking.

  Maebh had quietly asked him to prepare the island for the younglings’ arrival. Then she’d turned, covered herself in her skin, and swum to where Mara and the younglings played out beyond Whale Rock.

  What preparing the island meant, he wasn’t sure. They chose Appledore for the ceremony because all the humans would flock to Star that night for the dance, and Appledore offered a rocky inlet that couldn’t be seen from the hotel. It was a harsh shore without soft grasses or sand, but on this first ceremony since Aine’s kidnapping, Ronan put safety before any other concern.

  He found thirteen broken bottles in the tide pools between the rocks. He ripped the other sleeve off Noah’s shirt, wrapped it around his hand, and gathered up the glass shards. They glittered green and brown and sharp. He took the glass to the other side of the island and scattered it on the lawn, where it would have a better chance of slicing open some human foot. It was their trash, after all, and he thought they should pay for their own sins.

  There were small pink crabs in the tide pools too. Ronan picked up one the size of his palm and crushed its shell between his teeth. He sucked out the soft, quivering flesh. He gathered more crabs into one large pool for the younglings to eat after the ceremony. They had been fasting for two days, to make the change easier, and shedding their skins would make them hungrier still. The crabs would be the first food their human mouths would taste.

  Ronan heard voices coming from behind him, near the Center. He abandoned the tide pools, not wanting to draw attention to the ceremony site. As quickly as Noah’s too-tight clothes would let him, he loped away from the shore and up the hill, toward the Thaxter gardens. He often saw humans admiring the flowers, and he hoped his presence would go unnoticed there.

  He walked past the rosebushes, breathing the pollen-fogged air. The colors and textures in this land garden were dry and boring, nothing compared to the kelp forests he roamed underwater. He leaned over to feign interest in a yellow rose, and the humans let him be. They walked past him to the pier and filed into a motorboat that groaned under their weight. They pressed together, laughing, and the boat puttered toward Star.

  Ronan walked cautiously up to the Center itself. He skulked past the front door, peered into windows, and listened for movement inside. He cased the building three times before he could assure himself that it was empty, and by then it was nearly dusk. The sun and its harsh light were fading, and soon the moon would rise. It was almost time.

  Ronan returned to the inlet, still listening for humans. He heard only the whispers of the water and wind, and the faint bustle of preparation coming from Star.

  The ocean doused the last shreds of sunlight. Standing in the blue darkness, Ronan sent Maebh his confidence that the island was ready, that she could bring the younglings here. A few minutes later, he saw a trail of smooth dark heads bobbing toward him through the water.

  After five years of silence and stillness and hiding, the pod would start to grow again. He was ready.

  twenty-five

  LINK

  LO insisted he wear the dark blue button-down shirt, and Noah eventually complied. “Indigo,” she called it. Mom had gotten it for him on his last birthday, but he’d never worn it. Noah liked neutral colors that let him blend in with his surroundings. Or green. Green was okay. But this color was rich and dark, and the fabric wasn’t quite normal—it had a sort of fine-woven sheen to it. It made him stand out. He’d never considered that a particularly good thing.

  I don’t know, he thought, standing in front of the bedroom mirror. He pulled at his cuffs, trying to smooth out the wrinkles in his sleeves. The color made the white T-shirt he wore underneath look very, very white. He knew that just meant he’d spill something on it soon.

  “Hi, Mara,” he said to the mirror. He rolled his eyes at himself. He tugged at his shirt one last time, straightened his shoulders, and left the room.

  The downstairs looked empty, but Noah heard the discomfiting sound of girlish giggles coming from behind the bathroom door. He recognized Lo’s high-pitched titter, which he’d always found so annoying, and the aged softness of Gemm’s voice. The third laugh, low and even, he’d only recently come to appreciate.

  He glanced at his watch. Even prom hadn’t made him this nervous. You’re being stupid. It’s just a party.

  “Are you out there, Noah?” The bathroom door muffled Gemm’s voice.

  “Just waiting on you,” he called back. Had he sounded too impatient? He walked to the sofa and sat down, trying to figure out whether his legs would be crossed or uncrossed if he were actually waiting there patiently.

  Gemm came out first, her gray hair done up in curls and old-fashioned red lipstick on her thinning lips. “I taught them a few tricks,” she said, beaming. She glanced a bit wistfully at her old advertisements on the wall, but she kept smiling.

  Lo followed Gemm. She wore a loose, boxy black dress that made her look like a walking rectangle, and her hair was slicked back in a low bun. She’d contoured her eyes with thick, dark liner.

  Mara appeared next, smoothing her hands over her short hair. Her dress was a deep, liquid green, with a flowing skirt that ended just at her knees. Her cheeks and forehead were tinged with silvery pink, but he couldn’t tell if it was makeup or a blush.

  Gemm winked at her, and Mara sighed and slowly turned around. The back of her dress dipped very low, exposing the smooth curve of her back. Nestled in her hair was a headband of small, creamy pearls.

  Gemm leaned over Noah. “You’re staring,” she whispered.

  He felt his face burn.

  “Did you see her stockings? It’s sort of an inside joke.”

  Mara wore fishnets. She glanced at Gemm and plucked at them with nervous, manicured fingers.

  Noah raked his hands back through his hair, then panicked when he remembered Lo’s careful styling from that afternoon. He looked over at her, and she grinned.

  “It looks better your way,” she said.

  The compliment brought Noah back to himself. “You look nice too.” He took a step toward Mara. “And you look, um, really nice.” Gorgeous, he thought, but he was pretty sure he shouldn’t say it. They had never said this was a date—he didn’t know if selkies even had dates.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Dolores and Lo were so kind, lending me all these things.”
r />   The three of them exchanged smiles. Noah felt a brief surge of jealousy for the easy bond they shared.

  “I can’t see why you won’t wear the sash, Lo,” Mara said. “It looked beautiful.”

  Gemm nodded.

  Lo’s lips trembled, and Noah feared they were in for another hunger-induced tantrum. But she looked from Gemm to Mara, inclined her head, and said quietly, “I guess I could try it again.”

  Mara clapped and went back into the bathroom, returning with a shining length of white silk.

  Gemm took it from her and wrapped it around Lo’s waist, tying it in a cascading bow at the back. She retreated a few steps and smiled.

  It was startling—instead of a fabric box, Lo was wearing a real dress. A pretty dress.

  “Very Audrey Hepburn,” Gemm said. “You look lovely—you all do.”

  Mara sighed. “I wish I could dress like this more,” she said. “I love your clothes, Lo.” She spun around, and her skirt lifted out in a circle.

  Of course the dress must be Lo’s, Noah realized, though he couldn’t remember his sister ever wearing it. He hoped Lo would be glad she and Mara wore the same size. Mara looked so beautiful—maybe it would help her.

  Lo seemed to have the same thought. She stroked the sash at her waist and smiled.

  She glanced up at the clock. “We’d better go,” she said. “It started half an hour ago, I think.”

  Noah had watched the hotel staff preparing for the dance through his bedroom window. The sun was just setting when he came down, and the tent had lit up with the firefly yellow of a thousand tiny string lights. He could hear a subwoofer’s heavy thud carrying all the way across the harbor.

  Lo grinned. “Well?”

  “Don’t let me keep you, lovelies,” said Gemm, hugging each of them in turn.

  They boarded the Minke and puttered over to Star Island. Noah tossed the line to a waiting deckhand and jump-stepped onto the pier.

  Before he could turn around, the deckhand offered to help Lo out of the boat. She looked startled but took his hand with a shy smile.

  Noah offered his own hand to Mara. She shook her head and jumped from the boat to the pier in one fluid movement, sliding her fingers into his only after she found her own footing on land. Noah was still trying to get used to the idea that she took his hand only when she didn’t need it.

  The air glimmered with the last traces of twilight. Noah glanced behind him and saw Lo engaged in a halting, blushing conversation with the deckhand.

  He, on the other hand, couldn’t think of anything to say to Mara. She held his hand, and she smiled at him expectantly, but he couldn’t think of a damn thing to say.

  It was, thankfully, too loud to talk much once they got inside. Pop music blared at them through speakers hung in each corner. A wooden floor covered the mostly level ground, but the dancers still leaned against a slight tilt down toward the shore. The lights glowed with lurid, alien colors: orange, red, purple. Balloons clustered above everyone like a spoonful of caviar.

  Not many people were dancing yet. Most milled around, eating from bowls of pretzels and candy or drinking punch dispensed from a small silver fountain.

  Noah clicked the pieces of his courage together. “Mara—want to dance?” he called over the music. He turned around, but she was gone.

  He panicked, then saw her on the other side of the tent, already dancing. She grabbed Lo’s wrist and pulled her away from the deckhand, twirling her into a quick-spinning whirlpool of shining fabric. They laughed as they circled each other, hands clasped, arms stretched out tight. They looked as if they’d always been friends.

  Noah looked down at his own hands, which felt suddenly empty. He walked over to the table, lifted a glass of punch, and swallowed it down, but he couldn’t shake the empty feeling. He looked for Mara again; she was still with Lo. The two girls kept collapsing with laughter.

  He told himself he should be happy they were having a good time together, but he still turned away. He didn’t realize he’d been chewing his thumbnail until his teeth cut too far and he cringed, clenching his thumb into his fist so it wouldn’t bleed.

  He heard the music change, the dance beat fading into a slow guitar sparkle. He felt a tap on his shoulder.

  He turned and saw Mara, her face still flushed with laughter, her chest moving up and down as she regained her breath. “Hello,” she said.

  He cleared his throat. “Hi.”

  “So.” She touched his hand. “Do you want to dance with me?”

  Noah looked down. He could feel every single cell of his skin where her finger touched it. He looked back up.

  “Well?” Mara’s brows arched into dark crescents.

  He smiled, nodded, and took her hand in his.

  Many of the dancers had retreated to the tent walls, eyeing potential partners warily, so they had the dance floor almost to themselves. Mara stood in front of him, waiting.

  Tentatively, he touched the deep curve of her waist, sliding his other hand into hers.

  Her arm wound around his shoulder. She smiled at him, and they moved into step together.

  Noah took a deep breath. He focused on the music, wondering if his feet could follow the rhythm. The song’s beat was slow and clear. After a few moments he relaxed enough to look into Mara’s eyes, to notice how she felt against him.

  She smelled like water and nighttime air. The front of her dress brushed his shirt, and it took all his willpower to pretend he didn’t feel it. Her hands were cool, her torso warm where it touched his.

  She pressed closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

  He slipped his hand around to the small of her back. His thumb came up just over the edge of her dress, and the soft warmth of her skin met his. He closed his eyes, moving his thumb slowly up and down. He felt her shiver under his hand, and heard her sigh.

  The song ended.

  Then Mara pulled away, and the front of Noah’s body grew cold. She wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  He felt suddenly angry. She was the one who’d pulled him in close, leaned on him while they danced, sighed against his ear. Now she stared at the floor, her head turned away, her eyes down.

  He was sick of her contradictions. They needed to talk.

  “What did I do?” he asked.

  She looked up at him, finally. Her lashes were thick with water.

  She dashed out of the tent.

  Noah stood still for a moment, staring. He shook his head and ran after her.

  Outside, the air was still and hot. The flames of cheap torches flickered around the tent’s edges. He chased her until they’d left most of the light behind.

  She stopped, spun, and faced him. “Why would you do that?”

  Noah gaped. “What?”

  “To me. That.” Her eyes narrowed to black slits.

  He stepped toward her. She backed away.

  “Mara, come on.” He stepped again, and she retreated again. “Mara, please, what did I do?”

  “You—we—” She looked away. “You linked with me. I could read your feelings.”

  Oh, God. Noah didn’t know what linking was, but he definitely didn’t want Mara to know what he’d felt with her in his arms—his thoughts hadn’t exactly been chaste. He cringed, thinking of what she now knew.

  “I’m sorry.” How was it this girl made him apologize so much? “I didn’t mean to do anything, I swear.”

  She turned away, covering her face with her hands. “I didn’t think we could do it. I didn’t know if you could even do it at all.”

  “Do what? Mara, please, explain. What is linking?”

  She placed her hand on his chest. “Don’t you feel it?”

  “No, I—”

  He stopped. He could feel his own heartbeat, but another beat behind it too, not quite in sync, faster than his own. His chest was warm where Mara touched it. He chased his own thoughts from his mind, listening for that other that he could barely sense at the edge of himself.

  He sensed
fear, doubt, heat . . . and entwining everything was a desperate, thrilling connection. They were just like his feelings, but somehow he knew these were not his own.

  “Yes,” he said, amazed. “Yes, I can feel it, a little.” He frowned—when he spoke, his sense of that other in him went away. “Maybe—” He pressed his own hand over hers. He listened to her breath and matched it, inhaling and exhaling when she did. “I’m not sure . . .”

  He stood still, listening, struggling. He could hardly hear the music anymore, but the sound of waves rushed loud in his ears. He closed his eyes, waiting for something he wasn’t sure he’d recognize.

  “Here.” A surge of determination crossed over his heart, and Mara closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his.

  Their heartbeats rushed through his body. His arms circled around her, just so he could keep himself from falling.

  twenty-six

  GONE

  THE kiss was not brief, but it ended sooner than Mara would have liked. Noah pulled back, gentle but firm, his link a tangle of confusion and joy. His pale eyebrows were raised and his mouth was still slightly open, with just the shadow of a smile at its corner.

  When she smiled back, he pulled her in again, and she had to close her eyes, the better to taste the human sweetness of his mouth. She leaned into his kiss and could not help but slip farther into the link.

  Then a rush of fear burned through her, scouring her bones and searing her skin. Her mouth broke away from Noah’s in a scream that at first she did not recognize as her own.

  “What is it?” He reached for her.

  She backed away, her body pleading with her to run toward the shore, to dive and swim and find her pod—find Ronan, whose pain and fear called more strongly through her link than anyone else’s.

  She ran toward the ledge where she always hid her skin, slipped over the wet rocks, and crashed into the water. She felt scrapes sting her limbs, but she ignored them. It was only her humanskin, and soon she would be a seal.