safely into adulthood. He needed to figure out a way to send her home to her family. Alive.
3
Culann and Nereida stood on the dock near Culann’s floating keg. The brief night had ended, and the sun again shone down upon them. Culann had ordered the dogs to stay ashore, so they stared impatiently at their master from land. Culann eased himself to a sitting position and removed his shoes and socks. He still wasn’t quite sure he could trust himself around Nereida, so he left his jeans and t-shirt on.
“What are you doing?” she asked for the third time.
“Just taking care of something,” he again replied.
Culann slid into the water, feeling the sharp cold devour him. If he stood on his tiptoes, he could just barely keep his mouth above the waterline. The water was too dark and salty for him to open his eyes underwater. He had a general idea where he’d thrown it, but feeling around the silty bottom with his toes was a hard way to find it.
“Can I at least help you with whatever you’re doing?” Nereida called down. “Not to be conceited or anything, but I think I’m a lot better swimmer than you.”
“No, stay there. This might be dangerous.”
“Dangerous? What are you doing?”
“Please be quiet. I need to concentrate.”
Nereida sighed and folded her arms across her chest. Culann shut his eyes and focused on the sand sliding over his toes. He narrowed his focus and felt the individual grains as he pressed his feet into the bottom. Then he concentrated on just one grain of sand at the end of his big toe.
“Where is it?” he whispered.
The grain of sand told him.
Culann hopped forward until his left foot struck the unmistakable surface of the orb. He took a breath and pushed himself beneath the surface, using his damaged limbs to propel to the bottom. He slid his good left hand under the orb and clamped down on it from above with his right. He strained against the water pressure above to wrest it from the seabed.
When his head broke the surface, Nereida had cast off Julia’s bathrobe and was preparing to dive into the water.
“Stay there,” Culann said with a gasp of exertion.
She scowled at him, but complied. He hopped back to the pier, just barely keeping his mouth above the surface, while cradling the orb to his belly. The extra weight slowed him down, and his eyes focused on Nereida’s undisguised expression of impatience as he made his way to her.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Just something I dropped. Now please stay back.”
He reached the pier, which stood a good two feet above the waterline. With one great surge, Culann kicked his legs and hefted the orb up and onto the pier before sliding back into the water.
“What is that thing?” Nereida asked, inching closer.
“Don’t touch it. I’ll be right up.”
With another surge, Culann shot up, grabbed the edge of the pier with his left hand, and pulled himself up so that his elbows rested on the planks while the rest of him dangled over the edge. He caught his breath for a few moments and then kicked with his legs and straightened his arms, but his right hand couldn’t bear the weight. He dropped back to his elbows and resumed dangling off the side.
“You need some help?” Nereida asked with a smirk.
“Yes,” Culann replied. “But please don’t touch the orb. I am not joking — it’s very dangerous.”
She cast a wary glance at the orb before crouching down and grabbing Culann under the right arm. He pushed with his left arm and kicked his legs while she pulled.
After a brief struggle, the two knelt on the deck, panting side by side over the orb.
“Now what?” she asked.
“I don’t know, but stay back.”
Culann sat before the orb as it rested on the dock. The symbols had once again changed. They’d formed into six stick-figures of dogs, like those seen in cave paintings, with triangular features emphasizing the teeth. He held his hands on each side like a fortune-teller with a crystal ball, massaging the ethereal etchings on its surface. Thick, gray clouds blew in from the sea, enveloping the sun. Nereida knelt a few feet away, craning to see what he was doing. Thunder rumbled all around them, and rain poured down. Culann focused all of his attention on his fingertips as they worked their way across the strange symbols covering the orb. After a few moments, he felt ten tiny jolts of electricity, one in each finger. The orb was listening. Culann just needed to figure out what to say.
“Okay,” he started, “let’s just get something straight off the bat. I’m not like the Captain.”
“Who’s the Captain?” Nereida asked. “What are you talking about?”
Culann ignored her and continued, “I am not trying to dominate you or harness your power. I just have a simple request.”
“Who are you talking to? Are you talking to that thing?”
“Please, I am begging you, don’t hurt her. Let her live.”
“Are you talking about me?” Nereida rose to her feet. “Are you some kind of fucking psycho?”
“Please,” Culann continued. “You spared me, you spared the dogs. Please, spare her. She is just a child. She has done nothing wrong. She is innocent.”
The electricity returned, stronger this time. It coursed through Culann’s fingers, up his arms, and into his brain. Pain drilled into the base of his skull and radiated through his head. Black amoebae swam through his eyes as if he’d stared too long at the sun. He gritted his teeth so hard pieces of enamel broke off his molars and fell into his dry throat.
The dogs bayed wildly from shore while Nereida’s fearful cries filled his ears.
The pain relented, and Culann hunched over the orb on the brink of unconsciousness. Nereida spun around and ran back to shore. She passed Alphonse midway down the dock. The dog continued towards Culann despite having been previously admonished to remain ashore with the other dogs who dutifully sat at the water’s edge. The dog stared with such intensity that Culann wondered if he was about to be eaten. The rain came down hard, slapping the deck with each drop. Alphonse stopped just before Culann, his eyes glowing like blue lightning, and opened his jaws.
“You would bargain with a god?” Alphonse growled.
“Holy shit.”
Alphonse bared his fangs but said nothing.
“You are the Dog-God?” Culann said after regaining his composure.
“I have many names. To the Egyptians I was Anubis, the jackal-headed king of the underworld. To the Greeks I was Cerberus, the guardian of the dead. The Aztecs called me Xolotl, bringer of lightning and death.”
“I am Culann Riordan, teacher of English.”
“I know who you are,” Alphonse snapped. “You want this child’s life. What have you to offer me in return?”
“Uh, my soul?”
“You must offer me something I do not already possess.”
“What do you want?”
Alphonse drew back his lips into a ferocious smile.
“I will tell you a story.”
4
