Page 155 of Storm and Sea

Before the season was over, before he returned to the open sea and reunited with his Pod, Leo would die. Nephi would end this unsanctioned obsession and accept what he was at his core.

I’m sorry, my Ludo, but you were wrong.

He was a monster.

Atreus did his best to stifle a yawn.

“Me too,” Nyel agreed, his eyes likewise struggling to stay open.

Atreus hardly slept—and not for the reasons he wished. Instead of enjoying the night away like everyone else on the island, Atreus spent his night helping the poor fisherman whose boat engine had caught fire. He’d managed to get it running again for now, though the vessel wouldn’t be truly seaworthy without expensive replacement parts.

It felt like his head had only just touched the pillow when Marina barged into his room like a shipwreck in progress—loud, chaotic, and with zero regard for his exhaustion.

Atreus groaned, pulling the blanket over his head as if it could shield him from her. Marina, however, made it clear that sleeping in wasn’t an option as she yanked the covers off him and broke into song.

The Bayallon’s a comin’,

The Bayallon’s a comin’,

Oh, won’t you help me, please?

Ooooooh yeah⁠—

“Get out!” Atreus yelled, his pillow hitting the door as she ducked behind it.

He listened to her yowling fade down the hall, likely to give Nyel the same rude awakening. But it did the trick; he was up.

It was the morning of the Bayallon, and there was work to be done. Well. In Marina’s mind, there was work to be done. In reality, all that was left to do was for the volunteers to take their posts and for Marina to shout the rules to the crowd one more time. Yet that didn’t stop her from waking Atreus and Nyel at the first sign of light. They dragged their feet through the courses for the hundredth time, reassuring Marina that everything was perfect. Of course, she triple-checked everything anyway. By the time the town had gathered and the races were underway, Atreus could hardly keep his eyes open.

“Ai posti, pronti, VIA!” Marina shouted through a megaphone, and three dozen young racers took off down the lane. It was a short sprint, but watching their uncoordinated waddles was adorable. Adorable enough to tug at the edges of Atreus’s mouth despite his tiredness.

“Humans learn to walk so young,” Nyel observed through another eye-watering yawn.

“Marina told me they can walk as young as eight months.”

“You’re kidding.”

As they talked, a few of the kids tripped, bouncing on the ground before carrying on.

“I never said they learned to walk well,” Atreus amended.

They watched the little ones run, swim (which was more like a chest-deep walk through a makeshift pool), and clamber into a wagon. He had to admit the wagon pull was a huge hit. The parents were fiercely competitive, and watching the kids cling for dear life as they raced to the finish line was the funniest thing he’d seen in ages. The winner broke through the string of paper flowers, and the crowd cheered. Marina hugged the winners and gave them their basket of goodies before restarting the sequence for the middle group of kids.

These kids would swim a short loop in the bay, marked with a floating buoy. A few adults were already on the other end in row boats as lifeguards.

“Too bad we can’t lifeguard. We’d be better at it,” Nyel mused, making Atreus laugh.

“Yeah, that would go over well. It’d be kinda weird if a floundering kid suddenly started to levitate through the water.”

Nyel laughed. “No, but seriously. We could help. And in more than just lifeguarding at the Bayallon.”

“There you go with your dangerous ideas again,” Atreus said dismissively. They’d had this conversation so many times he didn’t have the energy to be anxious over it anymore.

“You know I’m right,” Nyel singsonged but let the matter rest.

When the lead racers rounded the ‘mermaid’ fountain, they peddled their bikes like mad to the finish. A young girl with raven-black hair won, much to the delight of her equally dark-haired family.

“Do you ever notice that some humans look different?” Nyel mused.