catch you, they might not stop at just putting you to sleep this time!”
“Well, see, I can’t destroy them—I told you that, remember it? They’re the sea’s children; I’m the Guardian. They’re just exactly how the sea made them.” He paused, his fingers warm around mine. “I could’ve imprisoned them, but that brings a whole ’nother set of problems. Nerazi and I did sort of suggest that they not come back into Saco Bay, but Saco Bay’s their home.”
“So, if you didn’t kill them, or imprison them, what did you do to make yourself safe from them?” I asked, in what I felt was, under the circumstances, a reasonably calm tone of voice.
Borgan glanced at Nerazi.
“We made it so, besides not being able to directly do me harm, which the sea enforces—Nerazi and I, we made it so they can’t touch me; can’t come within ten feet of me without being repelled. That’s written in the Gulf now, wave and water.”
“It is also,” said Nerazi, “written into the ronstibles’ souls. I made sure of that binding, Princess. The ronstibles will break themselves before they are able to place one webbed finger upon Borgan’s knee.” She moved plump shoulders in a shrug.
“The fact that they have returned to the place they have made their home for a very long time, is not . . . surprising. But it was noticed, and Borgan needed to be made aware.” Another sip from the Bug Light mug, which she lowered, her head tipped to one side.
“I believe they are about to begin,” she said quietly.
And right on cue came the thump of a canister being launched, followed by the bright blooming of a red flower directly over our heads.
CHAPTER EIGHT
WEDNESDAY, JULY 5
HIGH TIDE 6:48 A.M. EDT
SUNRISE 5:06 A.M.
The day after the Fourth dawned hot and bright.
Considerably after dawn, I climbed Heath Hill from the Kinney Harbor side, thinking that I’d pay a family visit.
At the top of the hill, I paused and looked up, to the height of land, and the big so-called “seaside cottage” defacing it.
The house had been the property of the local drug lord, one Joe Nemeier. The Maine Drug Enforcement Agency, the FBI and the Coast Guard had caught up with him just two weeks ago, and swept him, all his employees as could be located at the time, and for everything I knew, those who had tried to hide, too, into a tidy net and taken them away. That was fine by me—Mr. Nemeier and I had a problem from the start, and it’d never gotten any better. The opposite, in fact, with him first sending a boy with a knife to rearrange my face for me, as a friendly warning to stay out of his business, and, when that didn’t work, a girl with a gun to just plain kill me—which hadn’t worked, either, though it had cost me a perfectly good coffee mug.
Looking up at the house, and the empty eyes of the windows overlooking the ocean, I wondered what would happen to it. Anything purchased with the proceeds of illegal drug sales was supposed to become the property of the police, or applicable law enforcing agency. The house, I guessed, was evidence, and in the custody of one of the three enforcing agencies.
Unless they mounted a round-the-clock guard, they were going to have trouble keeping people out of it.
Well. I shrugged. Not my problem.
My problem was sleeping inside a tree at the heart of the Wood at my back.
I turned away from the house, and stepped into the shadow of the trees.
The air was noticeably cooler within the perimeter of the Wood; I hoped that was just an artifact of tree shade and not a marker of the Wood’s current mood. The last time I’d been inside, I’d damn’ near froze my nose off, that’s how cool it had been. Of course, the Wood had been through some trying times. I hoped its lacerated feelings had healed over the last few days.
“It’s Kate,” I said, and tucked my hands into the pockets of my jeans, prepared to wait for however long it took.
But apparently the Wood had recovered its
“Well, see, I can’t destroy them—I told you that, remember it? They’re the sea’s children; I’m the Guardian. They’re just exactly how the sea made them.” He paused, his fingers warm around mine. “I could’ve imprisoned them, but that brings a whole ’nother set of problems. Nerazi and I did sort of suggest that they not come back into Saco Bay, but Saco Bay’s their home.”
“So, if you didn’t kill them, or imprison them, what did you do to make yourself safe from them?” I asked, in what I felt was, under the circumstances, a reasonably calm tone of voice.
Borgan glanced at Nerazi.
“We made it so, besides not being able to directly do me harm, which the sea enforces—Nerazi and I, we made it so they can’t touch me; can’t come within ten feet of me without being repelled. That’s written in the Gulf now, wave and water.”
“It is also,” said Nerazi, “written into the ronstibles’ souls. I made sure of that binding, Princess. The ronstibles will break themselves before they are able to place one webbed finger upon Borgan’s knee.” She moved plump shoulders in a shrug.
“The fact that they have returned to the place they have made their home for a very long time, is not . . . surprising. But it was noticed, and Borgan needed to be made aware.” Another sip from the Bug Light mug, which she lowered, her head tipped to one side.
“I believe they are about to begin,” she said quietly.
And right on cue came the thump of a canister being launched, followed by the bright blooming of a red flower directly over our heads.
CHAPTER EIGHT
WEDNESDAY, JULY 5
HIGH TIDE 6:48 A.M. EDT
SUNRISE 5:06 A.M.
The day after the Fourth dawned hot and bright.
Considerably after dawn, I climbed Heath Hill from the Kinney Harbor side, thinking that I’d pay a family visit.
At the top of the hill, I paused and looked up, to the height of land, and the big so-called “seaside cottage” defacing it.
The house had been the property of the local drug lord, one Joe Nemeier. The Maine Drug Enforcement Agency, the FBI and the Coast Guard had caught up with him just two weeks ago, and swept him, all his employees as could be located at the time, and for everything I knew, those who had tried to hide, too, into a tidy net and taken them away. That was fine by me—Mr. Nemeier and I had a problem from the start, and it’d never gotten any better. The opposite, in fact, with him first sending a boy with a knife to rearrange my face for me, as a friendly warning to stay out of his business, and, when that didn’t work, a girl with a gun to just plain kill me—which hadn’t worked, either, though it had cost me a perfectly good coffee mug.
Looking up at the house, and the empty eyes of the windows overlooking the ocean, I wondered what would happen to it. Anything purchased with the proceeds of illegal drug sales was supposed to become the property of the police, or applicable law enforcing agency. The house, I guessed, was evidence, and in the custody of one of the three enforcing agencies.
Unless they mounted a round-the-clock guard, they were going to have trouble keeping people out of it.
Well. I shrugged. Not my problem.
My problem was sleeping inside a tree at the heart of the Wood at my back.
I turned away from the house, and stepped into the shadow of the trees.
The air was noticeably cooler within the perimeter of the Wood; I hoped that was just an artifact of tree shade and not a marker of the Wood’s current mood. The last time I’d been inside, I’d damn’ near froze my nose off, that’s how cool it had been. Of course, the Wood had been through some trying times. I hoped its lacerated feelings had healed over the last few days.
“It’s Kate,” I said, and tucked my hands into the pockets of my jeans, prepared to wait for however long it took.
But apparently the Wood had recovered its
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