child shrieked hysterically. “It’s not his time! He’s coming back! Just like Dad!”
Oh, no.
Meg headed down the beach and hugged her sobbing child.
Dannika’s heart ached for both of them. Because honestly, her son’s cry echoed what they were all feeling.
Silently begging the warriors to come back, fearing they never would, promising herself that she just had to be patient one more hour and then Ciran would climb out of the sea triumphantly leading a whole army to rescue them. She had to cling to that fantasy.
Because if it didn’t happen, then she’d never know. They’d wait on, suspended between hope and terror, day after day. Like Bex had been for three years.
Dannika shuddered and hugged the cracked Sea Opal.
You are all right. You are fine. You are my soul mate.
Come back.
Meg carried Squiddy down to the beach and disappeared with him into the rough waves.
After just a few minutes, Angie joined the heartbroken boy. She scowled out at the ocean. Any warrior who saw her right now would turn around. But without the barrier, they couldn’t feel safe.
Not that they ever had been safe. As Nuno’s abduction proved, the coral was illusory.
“You know, if Meg’s smart, she’s out there hunting for another squid missing a long arm and a few tentacles.” Val munched on a snack of smoked fish. “You all are going through a tough time. The kids don’t need more trauma. But how can she keep bringing it back? That squid was a little too ripe for calamari if you know what I mean.”
Dannika did.
Meg eventually emerged and waved at the water. Her child pranced happily. Angie descended beneath the waves. Despite the missing barrier, they didn’t want to totally take away the familiar play area. Their current safety system was to let the children play in the shallowest section of the reef with an adult or older teen always present.
“Did you bring that squid back?” Val asked Meg. “Or was it an honorable burial at sea?”
“No, I did something. I don’t know if you’d call it healing at this point, but yeah, he scooted off with a new, probably temporary, lease on undersea life.” Meg slumped on the bench and dropped her wet face in her hands. “Ugh.”
“All hail Lazarus,” Val muttered.
“That’s amazing,” Dannika agreed. “I mean, the squid was dead this time. Really dead.”
“Argh!” Meg straightened and lifted her hands to the sky. “Why? Why don’t I have a useful power like shielding or pushing? Then we could’ve stormed off with the warriors and I could have shielded them.” She glanced at Dannika. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I know.” Dannika stroked the Sea Opal. “I’m the one to blame.”
Meg stood abruptly. “This isn’t helping. I have to do something. Something!”
Her kids screamed. “Mom. He started it. Mom!”
“Okay, that’s not what I meant.” Meg sighed heavily. “I’ll be right back.”
Sick pets were followed by broken toys. Everything went wrong. Everything was a crisis. And when the youngest kids cried to their mothers for comfort, they got hugs but left after mere moments, unsatisfied, and started wailing yet again.
Bex spent the morning hunched beside a salt-scummed, waterlogged, sun-bleached radio box.
Val stretched out her leg. It might be Dannika’s imagination, but the swelling finally seemed to go down. “Any luck with the radio?”
“Not yet.”
“Did that whole caboodle wash up on shore?”
Bex shook her head. “Itime’s dad, Elder Daka, brought us stuff. He said he was negotiating peace. He did always tell Ankena to go back to his dad and mend the rift, but Ankena said his dad was beyond hearing it.” She shrugged. “Ankena was right.”
“It’s a marine radio?”
“Yep.” She scratched off a speck of rust. “If I get it working, the range will be tiny. Someone will have to sail past, and you might as well light a signal fire. But.” She shrugged again. “It’s something.”
And they all needed something.
Especially Val, who couldn’t transform. If the warriors didn’t come back, the kids would grow up. The women could try something crazy like swimming to Miami or Nassau. But Val couldn’t. She was stuck.
“I hope we get lucky,” Val said.
“Yeah.” Bex blew air out of her mouth and worked on the wires again. “Could use some luck.”
The morning passed into lunchtime. Tulu and Hadali traded places with Angie supervising the beach, one in the water and one on the sand, watching two fronts for danger. Angie returned to the firepit to start lunch.
“Everyone’s snappish,” Val said from her usual spot. “Maybe the air pressure’s down. Hurricane’s on the move.”
“Good,” Bex said.
“You