Deep Betrayal Page 0,90

He spread maps on the captain’s stand. “I’ve never gone that far north above the surface,” he explained. “I need to get my bearings.”

“How long will it take to get there?”

“About three hours if we really power it.”

“That’s still so long.” I lifted the seats and pulled out the white vinyl cushions, uncovering Jack’s cinder-block anchor, and his dad’s scuba suit. Calder started the engine, and I leapt off the boat to untie the dock lines. As Calder backed from the slip, I walked the boat back, holding the line just as I’d seen Gabby do, and jumped onto the side rail as it pulled away.

“Very good,” Calder said. “I’m impressed.”

Once we cleared the no wake zone, Calder pushed the throttle forward and headed north, toward Basswood. The closer we got, the more the muscles in Calder’s jaw flexed and jumped.

“What’s wrong?” I finally asked over the drone of the engine. “You know Maris isn’t there. They’re probably still camping on Oak.”

“Just bad memories,” he said.

“Tell me.”

He looked over at me with a frown, sighed, and cut the engine. The momentum of our wake caught up with us and the boat bobbed several times before the water settled.

“This is where they trapped me. This is where I was when I heard you agree to jump.”

“Oh.” I should have known by the look on his face not to ask. I got up and reached for the key to restart the engine. We didn’t have to talk about this. It was better that he kept his mind clear. We had other things to worry about than the past. But he caught my hand.

“This is where I was when I saw you, through Tallulah’s mind, at the top of the cliff, and realized I could never make it back in time.”

“You did make it back.”

“Not in time to save you.” He bowed his head and scowled at the floor of the boat.

“That’s not the way I remember it.”

“You were barely conscious, Lily. How would you remember anything?” He seemed mad now, and I sat down on the seat.

“Okay. I’ll bite. What’s this really about?” I asked. “You should be focused on other things right now.”

“I wanted to be a hero, but I couldn’t do it.”

“I didn’t want to be saved,” I reminded him. “I was trying to do the saving. If you had interfered, they’d still be after my dad.”

Neither of us spoke for a while, and the waves sloshed rhythmically against the hull.

“I’ll never understand you, Lily. No ordinary girl would have done what you did.”

“I’ve never claimed to be ordinary.”

“Right,” he said, drawing out the word. “You’re a Half.”

“What do you think that means, exactly? That’s what Pavati called us, too.”

“Pavati?”

I forgot I hadn’t mentioned her little visit. I kept going. “Aren’t we all half? Except for you, of course, but Maris, Pavati, Dad—they all had human fathers and mermaid mothers. They’re Halfs, too. If Pavati was to have a baby—”

“Don’t make me laugh, but, yeah, I see what you’re saying. The thing is, you’re the reverse. You have a merman father and human mother.”

“And that makes a difference?”

“Apparently, it makes a very fortunate difference. It’s what’s keeping you from busting out with a tail.”

“I don’t see that as a good thing. If I could swim faster …”

Calder started up the boat again, drowning me out, and followed the Bayfield Peninsula around to Raspberry Island, cutting north between it and York. The farther north we traveled, the more my muscles tightened with trepidation. Calder must have been nervous, too, because he barely spoke over the next few hours, except to shout out meaningless comments about the islands, or the depth of the water, or finally the Rock of Ages lighthouse off Isle Royale.

Just north of the lighthouse, Calder slowed the boat and quieted the motor. He picked up our earlier conversation.

“I’ve been thinking, Lily, that it is a very good thing, you being a Half. If you were a full-on mermaid, think what that would mean. That would mean the whole package. The whole enchilada. You’d be miserable. I’d be right back where I started. We’d both be hunting the lake for kayakers.”

“I can’t speak for you, but I doubt I’d be miserable. As long as we were together, we’d still be happy.”

“I’d like to think so, but the truth is we have no way of knowing. This is going to sound harsh, but based on everything I’ve been taught, you and Sophie shouldn’t exist. Remember I told you mermen aren’t