the sand. The merrows fall away in a mudslide of melting flesh as the Alliance crashes over them in a fury of fangs, claws, and swords.
Kurt’s encircled by a breeze. In his hands, the trident is a torch of lightning, pushing the creatures of the deep back into the shallows.
I unsheathe my dagger, cutting cleanly across the neck of a merrow. He breaks apart at my feet and I move on to the next one. This time the merrows are faster. Stronger. Every time I kill one, more and more spring right out of the sea.
I go to the aid of a vampire; a merrow with the head of a swordfish is ramming needle-like fingers into the vampire’s heart. I come from behind and stab the merrow through the back of his head.
“Good thing it isn’t wood,” I say.
He growls but manages a wry grin. “Still hurts.”
“Take the wounded to the Wreck,” Frederik says, suddenly a flash beside me. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He spits over and over but is dissatisfied. “That is the most wretched thing I’ve tasted in my life.”
Something hits me from behind and I fall on top of him. The wave crashes behind us and we start retreating farther up the beach. They’re like hydras—we cut off their heads and more keep coming out of the sea.
I flip the scepter back to the ground but Marty screams at me. He’s covered from head to toe in oozy, black merrow blood.
“Don’t! Not unless you want to decimate the boardwalk. That thing’s barely holding on as it is.” He swings a sword and grimaces as another merrow breaks away at his feet.
“I’m sorry,” I scream, back to back with him. A ring of the gnarliest mermen I’ve ever seen, scarred in patches like Archer, forms around us. “I know when you woke up, killing sea creatures wasn’t the first thing on your mind.”
“I did.” Marty breathes like a bull. “I had lox on my breakfast bagel.”
My laughter confuses my opponent and I jab him in the jaw. He doesn’t move but keeps charging. I freeze as tentacles wrap around his face, slithering through his nose. His body convulses as a small gray thing slides out from his nostril. The whites of his eyes are spiderwebbed with black veins until he bursts. As he washes away, the tentacles turn into hands. Penny’s face is surprised and ecstatic.
Marty pulls his blade from another pile of merrow mush and grimaces at Penny. “You are one sick mother—”
Marty tenses. A long red needle pierces through his chest. My body follows his to the ground. I press my hand on the wound. The blood pools all around his neck. Behind me, Frederik is paler than ever. Marty’s trying to speak, trying to joke.
“Don’t talk, Marty.” Frederik pushes my hand away and replaces it with his own. Marty tries to laugh but he spits out blood. I scramble for my pockets until I find the tiny bottle. I twist off the cap.
Frederik asks, “What is that?”
“It’s all that’s left,” I say, dropping half the contents on the wound and tipping the rest into Marty’s mouth.
“Of what?”
“Their secrets,” I say. “Take him.”
Frederik looks torn. Marty’s slack in his arms. “You need me.”
“He needs you more.”
I turn around, hoping that my last drops of spring water can save Marty. I run around the dead bodies on the sand. The merrows are frantic at the smell of blood. They stop fighting and devour, leaving them defenseless against our swords.
Even Archer can’t get their attention, but he’s busy on his own. Kurt blasts him with crashing electricity that would reduce a man to ashes. But Archer lies on the wet sand with eyes wide open, like he’s drawing life from the water. He gets right back up and barrels into Kurt. Kurt presses his feet on Archer’s stomach and flips him over. Kurt swings the trident across Archer’s face.
He doesn’t need my help, so I run to Thalia. She’s got a nasty slash running down her arm. She glances at it like it’s no big deal and helps one of the Alliance—a wire-thin guy about my age with glowing yellow eyes. Our numbers are falling faster and faster. More merrows are coming in with the waves. We reform our line, even closer to the boardwalk. Kurt steps in beside me.
“We can’t let them get into the city,” I say to Kurt.