I’d done little to alter that opinion. Liam might be interested, but it was only because he didn’t know me. Still. It wasn’t the worst thing to happen since I came to Bitter Rock. I smiled at him. I was surprised at how easy it was.
“It’s a full house, so get friendly,” Hardcastle said amiably.
The engine started up, and my smile dropped away. We were going to Belaya Skala.
And somehow I knew, deep in my bones, that whatever had happened, whatever I was trying to discover—it had happened over there.
I watched William Hardcastle, sitting at the prow of the boat and chatting with Lily. I knew something else: William Hardcastle had been involved. That fear started up again, a bitterness at the back of my throat and the sound of my pulse in my ears.
“Sophia?” Liam said uncertainly. It was the second time he’d said my name.
I gave him a wide smile. I couldn’t be calm, but maybe I could fake it. “Sorry. I’m still jet-lagged, I guess.”
He was looking at me strangely, and I found myself frantically cataloging every aspect of my demeanor, my appearance. What would give me away? What was the detail that would make him start to turn, to dislike me, the way everyone did in time?
“Yeah. The sunlight messes with your circadian rhythms,” he said at last.
We rode the rest of the way in silence.
PART TWO
SOMETHING RICH AND STRANGE
EXHIBIT E
Excerpt from the article “Lesser-Known Mass Disappearances”
6. THE VANISHING SHIP: ALASKA
In the fall of 1884, the residents of an island off the coast of Alaska were awakened by shouting. A Russian fishing vessel, the Krachka, had run aground on the rocks off the northern point of the island, an area inaccessible except by boat. One injured fisherman was brought by rowboat to the larger town on the southern end of the island. The rest, it was decided, would shelter with the residents of the northern side until the weather calmed.
The island’s doctor, along with several others, made their way to the northern end of the island in the morning. But there was no one there.
The ship was mired on the rocks offshore. The two lifeboats had been deployed. One was found on the beach. The other was never located. Several pairs of boots, along with sodden clothing, were discovered drying next to the fireplaces in empty homes. Supper still lay, uneaten, on the table; cold cups of tea sat on mantels and countertops. A broken lantern was discovered halfway up a hill. In the schoolhouse, a phrase from a Bible verse was written on the chalkboard: И КАЖДОЕ ИЗ ЧЕТЫРЕХ ЖИВОТНЫХ ИМЕЛО ПО ШЕСТИ КРЫЛ ВОКРУГ, А ВНУТРИ ОНИ ИСПОЛНЕНЫ ОЧЕЙ; И НИ ДНЕМ, НИ НОЧЬЮ НЕ ИМЕЮТ ПОКОЯ, ВЗЫВАЯ.*
The clearest hint of what had happened was found in the captain’s log on the fishing vessel. The second-to-last entry, dated two days before the wreck, read: We cannot seem to escape the fog. Alexei says he hears music in it, and he stands by the rail to listen and will not sleep. The [damaged, unreadable] throw it overboard, but [further damage] too late.
The final entry reads only: I see him now.
No trace of the townspeople or the ship’s crew was ever found.
VIDEO EVIDENCE
Recorded by Joy Novak
AUGUST 14, 2003, 12:14 AM
NOVAK: There we go!
The camera focuses on Joy Novak, who holds it at arm’s length. She sits packed into a skiff with several others, who sit behind her: Dr. Vanya Kapoor, Dr. William Hardcastle, Carolyn Baker, and Martin Carreau. The passengers range in age, with Baker, at twenty-one, the youngest, and Hardcastle, thirty-eight, the eldest. It is night, but in summer that means only a slight dimming that barely qualifies as twilight.
NOVAK: This is the entirely illicit voyage of the . . . Does this boat have a name?
CARREAU: The Oyster.
NOVAK: The voyage of the Shadow Oyster.
CARREAU: The Shadow Oyster? Really, Joy?
Carreau’s accent is French. He keeps long, dark hair, courtesy of a Moroccan mother, tied back.
NOVAK: We have to add something to make it more badass. We’re breaking the law, after all.
KAPOOR: It isn’t actually illegal, just against the rules.
She sits stiffly on the rearmost seat, looking as if she is not here entirely by choice.
BAKER: Roughly the same thing where Vanya is concerned.
She giggles, pushing her glasses up. She holds a silver flask in the opposite hand. It’s difficult to gauge whether she is intoxicated or simply energized by the illicit nature of the outing.
Novak shushes them.
NOVAK: We, the employees of the Landon Avian