killed.

The Naga lands in the empty space I just occupied.

“Sorry, beastie-but I need your head.” I don’t sound as confident

as I would’ve liked.

I jump on her back, grabbing the rough ridges of her neck like

reins. I dig my knees into her furry flanks and raise my dagger over

her head.

But the Naga lurches and throws me off, and I fall hard on my

side. A hot, burning sensation hits my side where something feels

broken. My dagger is gone. Panic shoots through me as the Naga breaks

into a sprint. No matter how many walls I’ve climbed, how many

pull-ups I’ve done, watching this thing run at me still freezes my

joints. It’s massive, with a mouth open to swallow me. But it’s the

thing that stands between the Sleeping Giants and me, so I push myself

to move.

The Naga lands to my side, talons digging into the rock. I see

something glint behind her. My dagger! I take a stone the size of a

football and slam it into her face. She whimpers and covers her eyes.

The dragon-bird swoops down as I run for my weapon. It draws blood

from my forearm. I slide on the ground and take my dagger. The Naga

shakes her head, a rumble stirring deep inside her belly. She’s

pissed.

Know what? So am I.

I roll out my shoulders, the adrenaline dulling the pain in my

ribs.

No beast is going to eat me. It’s just bones and flesh, same as

every merrow I’ve gutted.

I find the spark inside me that needs this more than anything. The

part that’s been burned and cut open. The bits that had never seen the

face of real evil until I watched her take away the people I love.

I hold on to that spark.

The Naga sees the change. She gets up on her hind legs and

scratches at the space between us, landing with heavy thuds. She makes

the walls tremble. Pieces of the cave come down. The B flat of the

dragon-bird echoes. It cries and cries as I charge at the Naga.

She runs at me.

My thighs burn as I run, run, run, and jump. I swipe, and the

black stone of Triton’s dagger pulses with a dark light. The ancient

symbols light up like they’re on fire.

I punch the Naga’s exposed long neck and she cries out. I hit her

cheek with the hilt of my dagger and she slumps forward, dazed. When I

hit her, I cringe. This is why I’m here. This is what I’ve been

training for, but I can’t shake the feeling that hurting her is wrong.

I shouldn’t do this. But if I don’t, I won’t get the clan’s help and

then I’ll never see Layla again.

The Naga recovers, growling at me. Something is different. It’s

her eyes. I see something so human in the swirl of her eyes, black and

brown like melting stone. Something familiar.

The moment of hesitation is going to cost me. The Naga reaches out

her claw. I move out of its reach and strike with my dagger, too late.

I skim to the right. The blade digs into the flank of her skin until

the resistance stops and I’m slicing through air.

At the same time, her talons dig into my chest.

Warm blood trickles from my wound. A numb prickle blooms around

the cuts.

A scream.

A groan.

We fall into each other.

Prickly numbness spreads through me. My vision goes blurry.

Beneath the rapid pulse of my heart in my eardrums is the cry of

the dragon-bird, like a child after its mother. I roll over and I see

her. The Naga, eyes wide open. Mouth drawing in shaky breaths. But the

beast’s face is changing. Fingers, slender human fingers touching the

blackening skin around the cut beneath her ribs. She turns on her

side, changing the way the river people do. She closes her eyes-the

eyes, lips, face of a teenage girl.

Bloody and cut open and pressed against me so I can feel the cold

sweat of her skin. She tries to lift her head but can’t, raven hair

spilling on the ground.

Sharp pain snakes all over my body and gathers in my head.

When I close my eyes, she says, “Thank you.”

The numbness on my skin returns. My eyes, still blurry at the

corners, focus on Kurt.

He wades out of the stormy Coney Island surf, holding tightly to

the barrel of the Trident of the Skies. He has no need to look for

human clothes or hide the scales around his waist. The beach is

trashed. Sand covers every inch of the boardwalk-or what’s left of the

boardwalk-in small dunes. Boards are sliced into wet splinters.

There’s a crack from the Aquarium entrance to the shore, where waves

collapse and trickle down. I did that to my own home.

I did that to get rid of as many merrows as I could.

Kurt grabs a handful of sand and runs it through his fingers. I

wonder what he’s thinking, if he’s wishing he could press the Rewind

button. Then he dusts his hands, pulls on the yellow disaster tape,

and runs up the boardwalk.

The sky is overcast with fat storm clouds. He crosses the street,

and I know where he’s going-back to Lucine.

He ducks under an archway down the narrow alley that leads to the

Second Circle, the velvet-draped speakeasy operated by vampire Madame

Mercury and a sideshow freak. The movement to his side is so fast that

I can’t see the hands that grab him until it’s too late. Kurt is

pinned to the red brick wall.

It’s Marty McKay, the shapeshifter, with Frederik the High Vampire

of New York. They’re joined by Penny and the landlocked from the Sea

Court, along with members of the Thorne Hill Alliance. The Alliance

exists to bring peace among the supernatural creatures in the city. As

they surround Kurt, I guess this means to hell with the Alliance.

“You shouldn’t have come back,” Marty says. I’ve never heard him

sound so serious, but hours before, he was moments from death and I

helped save him. So yeah, almost dying will do that to a guy.

“Are you planning on killing me, vampire?” Kurt says.

“Why are you here?” Frederik’s voice is steely, controlled.

“This isn’t a stake,” Kurt says, his violet eyes not wavering from

Frederik’s black ones. “But it will certainly end you.”

You’re bluffing! I shout. Me, the ether, the friendly fucking

ghost.

But they’ve all seen the power of our weapons and they give him

room.

“Where’s Tristan?” Kurt says.

“Don’t you know?” Frederik answers, a tiny smile playing on his

lips.

Kurt takes in the others, like he’s figuring out how best to take

them on. But Kurt’s not a cold-blooded killer, and he’s going to want

to avoid fighting them. “We’re still on the same side. The side that

wants to destroy the sea witch.”

“Yeah,” Marty says, pacing uncomfortably and rubbing the spot on

his chest where he was skewered hours ago. “Only you have to kill our

friend on the way. Your kin, am I right?”

“The way of the seas has nothing to do with you,” Kurt says.

Frederik bares his fangs. “When your sea ways do this to our home,

then you bet your sparkly ass that it concerns us.”

My ghost self is laughing.

“Then you’ve settled it,” Penny says, distraught. “You’re going to

kill Tristan.”

Kurt looks at the group in front of him, then at the weapon in his

hands. I can feel him trying to draw power from it and failing. But he

doesn’t falter for too long or they’d notice.

“You say you love this land. You fight for it.” Kurt pauses. “Then

gather your army because the sea witch wants to watch the world drown

from her stolen throne. I will do everything I can to stop her.” Kurt

walks past Frederik and says, “Do not stand in my way.”