Marley shrugs his shoulders. “No smoke without fire.”
Before I can even realise that I’m doing it, I hold
out my hand and a fierce, crackling flame appears in my palm. Marley curses and leaps away, his eyes glued to it.
“Look, Marley,” I say dryly. “No smoke. Just fire.”
“Since when can you do fire?” he breathes, still staring at the tiny flame.
I close my palm into a fist and the embers die. “I can’t. Not really.”
“That did not look like ‘not really’.”
“I can’t do things off the cuff the way Opal can,” I say, a little too bitterly. “It flares up when I do. But… I don’t know. It’s hard to control.”
I know he has a thousand burning questions, but he’s sensitive enough not to throw them at me right now. I look back out at the water, unnerved as ever by how still it can be. Even thinking about how deep it is makes me shiver.
“There is something in there,” I say. “But it’s not the Loch Ness Monster. It’s not some fairy-tale. None of this has been like the stories.”
I sit down beside him.
“You can see the moon in the water,” Marley says absent-mindedly, while I slide the book back into my tote bag. I glance over to the spot he’s looking at and
I freeze.
“That’s not the moon,” I murmur.
It certainly is a light, but it’s not a reflection. It moves closer, still under the water. I instinctively shuffle backwards, kneeling back on my ankles. Marley leans a little closer, almost hypnotised by the shine.
“It’s eyes,” I say. I can hear my own fear, but it doesn’t seem to bother Marley. “Marley, it’s—”
A pair of eyes glow beneath the water and then a head slowly breaks the surface. It’s a pale, gaunt face, with eyes like saucers full of stars. It looks like a woman, with seaweed hair stuck to her cheeks.
I can make out a tail instead of legs. But she is no mermaid. No scales, no shimmer, no fish tail. Instead of legs, she has an otter’s lower body, brown fur matching her hair.
Her eyes are locked on Marley, as she reaches a webbed hand out slowly.
To my horror, he reaches back.
“No!” I yell, grabbing hold of his shoulders and pulling him away from the water. But the creature has a grip. It reveals sharp, jagged teeth and starts trying to pull him beneath the surface.
I’m about to attempt another fire spell when something interrupts the three of us, something none of us were expecting.
The creature is rushed by what appears to be a hoard of leaves. Harsh winter leaves all flying like a hive of bees. They lambast the creature’s face, causing it to shriek in surprise and let go of Marley’s hand. I don’t hesitate. I yank him backwards, dragging him right up onto the bank.
Only once we are safely free from the water’s edge, and away from the strange creature, does the small tornado made of leaves relent. It disappears so speedily, my eyes can’t track it. The creature in the water hisses and spits but disappears beneath the surface, submerged and invisible once again.
Marley and I both pant out terrified breaths, glancing around to try and see what saved both of our skins.
“Were those leaves?” he chokes out.
“That’s what I thought,” I reply. “You were just saved from a gross, watery death by… some leaves.”
I spot my bag down by the water and start moving towards it. Marley grabs my elbow and stops me.
“That thing might come back.”
“No offence,” I say, slipping free of his grip, “but
I was fine. You were the one offering yourself up on
a platter.”
“I couldn’t look away from it.”
I can hear the hurt and loathing in his voice and I instantly feel horrible. Despite being frightened, he’s probably thinking of Ren. Thinking of what it feels like to be at the mercy of a vicious supernatural creature. I’m trying to think of something comforting and helpful to say, when I see her standing on the beach.
A girl. Or what looks like a girl. Our age, our height, with pale green hair that falls to her hips and long eyelashes that are exactly the same shade of emerald. Her skin seems to be made of patches of tree bark. There is healthy moss on her elbows and ankles. Her clothes are not even clothes, not really. They are leaves all melded together to create the rudimentary shape of a dress.
Only her eyes are human, but not in their colour; a bright shade of orange that is warm and volcanic. There’s an ancientness about her, which is bizarre when she looks as young as we do.
The orange eyes with green lashes are fixed on me and I’m nervous all over again.
“Marley?” I ask quietly, never looking away from this strange girl. “Do you see her?”
Marley nods shakily. “Yes.”
“All of her?”
