What was going on?
Nothing was eating her or hurting or biting or dragging her into the depths. Something was still around her waist, as firm as metal. And worse, she could feel something pressing up against her from behind. It wasn’t warm—not at all. From the temperature alone, it would have been impossible to tell it from the sea.
Did ghosts have bodies? She now regretted never listening to her father’s stories. No wonder they said to listen to your elders.
Whatever it was, she dare not scream. What if that set it off? She had to just remain calm, get back in the boat, and paddle like her life depended on it. Easier said than done when just getting into the boat with its high walls would prove to be a challenge even if she wasn’t being held by such a creature.
The boat was only twelve feet away. All she had to do was get free first. She could figure anything else out later.
It felt as though her heart was shaking as she looked down. Her prior thought wasn’t wrong. It was two human arms around her waist.My God. Was this some sort of demon of lost souls, some conglomeration of those lost?
Did she speak? Squirming had seemed to do very little against its grasp.
“Thank you,” she said, hoping her heart wasn’t loud to the creature. To her, it sounded louder than the words. “I’m fine now. You can let go.”
There was no response, at least not verbally, but it startedswimmingas it held her off a bit to its right, dragging her like a man caught in a net entangled with a whale.
It was so fast she didn’t even have time to fight it. All she noticed was how pale and perfect the skin was—not at all what she would have thought from a personification of death—and then suddenly she was facing the boat. She was in the air. She was over the edge. She was hitting the floor.
She thumped ungracefully on the wood, hitting onto her side, hand extended up, and there was a part of her that didn’t want to move, like a deer freezing or a possum playing dead. She couldn’t even guess what had just happened—had it…saved her?—but fear was still gripping her chest and her heart wasracingat the thought that just beyond those thin wood beams wassomething.
Something indeed. Hadn’t she just decided she would not allow herself to be afraid of the sea and now she was truly consideringplaying dead? It was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard.
She sat up, still breathing heavily, and turned to where she had plopped over from.
A head floated above the water, but on second glance, it seemed to be attached to a man’s torso. Any more than that was lost in the shadows of the churned-up sea.
He had long, pale-white hair. In the sun, it was practically iridescent like the inner bits of a shell. His skin was smooth and pale. His eyes were haunting—not because of their red color or pale lashes—but because they looked at her with all the compassion and emotions that a human might.
They held her stare, pulling her in, captivating her with a look that held both concern—seemingly for her—and wariness.
“Did you…did you save me last night?” she asked.
He just looked at her for a moment before rattling off something in tones she had never heard before. Whatwasthat? She knew both French and English, but that, that hardly sounded human.
Oh, perhaps that was no surprise. Whatever he was, he was no longer human, if he had ever been.
“Are you a ghost?” she asked.
But he just stared at her in confusion.
Could he not understand her either?
Still, despite the strange hair and eyes, helookedhuman and he had picked her up easily enough, and she wasn’t sure but she didn’t think ghosts were tangible. Was he one of the monsters of the deep from her father’s lore?
But if he was just a man…
She reached out her hand, trying not to let her gaze drop—for she had never seen a man shirtless before except in anatomy books. It was horribly improper. “How did you get out here?” she asked, unable to help herself from speaking.
He stared at her hand for a moment, his head still the only thing above water as ifhewas cautious ofher.Probably not a man then. Or not like any she knew.
But just as she started to retract her hand, he reached up his and grabbed it.
His skin was thick, a texture no human should have. No, it was like the texture of a shark, and she pulled away an inch only for his hand to grab hers again. He looked at her as if he was trying to figure out what to do. She wondered if she was looking at him much the same way.
Would it be rude to ask him what he was? He didn’t seem to understand her anyway, so maybe it was pointless, but all the same it felt odd to ask someone if they were a monster.
“Are you human?” she asked.
