Seawitch

the landward end of the dock. Solis was now nearly next to the sea witch and he made a face and stepped aside as if to avoid touching her, but his move put him slightly behind her, as we’d planned.

Then Fielding sat up and turned to look at Shelly. “I’m so sorry,” he babbled. “I didn’t mean what I did—I was so stupid and I let horrible things happen to you. And,” he went on, repeating himself compulsively, “Shelly, Shelly, I love you and I’m so, so sorry. . . .”

Jacque sneered and turned to look back at Fielding. I wanted to scream at him to shut the hell up.

But any sound I would have made was instantly drowned in a roar of churning water and the shriek of creatures throwing themselves into battle.

The water within the bubble of overlapping worlds burst upward as the shapes of otters and merfolk charged at one another and clashed violently all along the encircling edge. Too soon and bringing far too many, the skirmish couldn’t have been more ill-timed with Fielding’s babbling stupidity.

The sea witch whirled back to me, her face a rictus of fury. “A trap! I’ll tear you into chum!” she shrieked, and lunged at me.

I backpedaled as fast as I could and heard Shelly scream for her mother to stop. Fielding continued to cry out to Shelly and tried to grab her. She shook him off and chased after Jacque. He spun and came back toward me.

I ducked the sea witch and ran toward the free-floating end of the dock, hugging the bell to my chest until I could reach Fielding. “You giant furry idiot!” I yelled. “Stop mooning after your lost love and get the damned ghost receptacles. Now!”

He ignored me and threw himself at Shelly again, moaning her name. She skipped to the side but missed her footing and fell into the bay with a yelp of surprise. Then she flipped in the water and swam away.

“No! Shelly!” Fielding cried.

Jacque rushed up after me and snatched at him, tangling her hands in the shadow of his otter form. “I’ll show you once and for all, you meddling cur!”

Fielding screamed. I reached out with one hand to steady his form, snapping off the tendrils of Jacque’s magic as quickly as I could—which would never be fast enough, but I’d be damned if all the work I’d done would go to hell this way, and I didn’t want her and her magic reinforcing the merfolk against the dobhar-chú until I had what I needed.

“Goddamn you,” I muttered between gritted teeth, focusing my thoughts on the Guardian Beast, wherever it was. “Why aren’t you lending a hand if you want these damned souls so much?” But it replied not at all, nor showed any sign it was nearby. It’s nice to know management thinks you can handle the messes on your own but I really could have used more help.

Solis tried to grab on to the corporeal Fielding. The other man was squirming around and his shape was heaving and fluctuating too much to give the cop a grip, but the sergeant continued to try to hold his subject.

The sea witch abandoned the men with a howl of rage and turned her ire on me. “Give it to me!”

Mute from lack of breath and the jabbing agony in my side, I shook my head. Behind her I could see the bubble of the overlapping worlds shivering as if some wind had touched it and I thought we were about out of time. If I couldn’t break her power before the gateway collapsed, I wasn’t sure that we’d ever leave.

The sea witch bared her jagged teeth at me and I could see the wisps of ghosts drawn to her through the ether of the Grey, streaming like mist filled with faces that screamed in panic and pain before flowing into her. She threw her arms upward; the sea rushed up, too, and then rained back down in torrents of red as the sky seemed to catch fire. Fish and firelit water pelted back down and I cringed, still holding the bell to my chest. Beyond the end of the dock full-on war raged in the heaving waters of the cove.

Holding on to the bell with one hand and trying to steady the writhing Fielding with the other, I had no way to defend myself. I rolled on top of the bell, my broken rib stabbing at my side and sending dizzying pain through my chest. Jacque gestured and the air seemed to fill with small, voracious sea creatures that swam through the falling bloody rain to attack me, needle teeth biting into my face, hands, and the back of my neck. I could have swatted them aside with the barest effort, but that would have taken my hands off the bell or Fielding and I couldn’t risk either. Time seemed to jerk and start, coming and going in washes of blackness as I fought to stay conscious, and tingles of Quinton’s reflected adrenaline jolted across my nerves.

“I have him!” Solis shouted. I assumed he meant Fielding but I didn’t turn to look.

I shook off the biting things long enough to plunge my hands into the bell. The green energy net sizzled and burned against my skin, pulling a strangled whimper from my throat. This time they did not resist—I’d brought them to the right place and the right moment. I yanked at the magical restraints without plan or thought, ripping them aside so the ghosts spilled out, and the searing feel of the magic gusted away on a puff of bitter wind.

The ghosts of Valencia whirled around Jacque in a maelstrom of tormented faces that screamed and cried and spun her away from me. She fought them—or for them—grabbing at them and trying to clutch them to her chest or stuff them into her mouth, but they continually slipped away and soared, spinning upward to spread out in the dome of the bubble like a white cloud.

The ghosts screamed and sighed and wailed as they lashed past her, seeming to tear the strength from her in wisps that rose with them until they rushed upward, free. Their howls of horror and agony slid into shouts of joy at their escape as they touched the edge of the overlapping worlds and burst through the silver wall of ghostlight, sparking in the last rays of the sun.

As the last of them slipped out of her grasp, Jacque let out a scream that rose and shook until the edges of the worlds shook with it. The silvery bubble of the Grey collapsed with the sound of a gong reverberating across the water and the last impressions of the ghosts vanished into the darkness of the natural sky thickly spread with stars and smeared here and there with the smudges of summer clouds still holding the ruddy tinge of the sun that had already slipped below the horizon. It hadn’t felt like fifteen minutes had elapsed. . . .

But, against my hope, the sea witch was still here, or, more to the point, not there. The gateway had collapsed but she was here in the world—the normal world—and I didn’t have the ghost receptacles, which meant she still had power. I didn’t know why she was still here and not locked away again in her bubble of Otherplace, but I’d have to worry about it later as my mind threw out a stream of curses I didn’t have the breath to vent.

The sea witch threw herself at me, no words this time, no declarations of hate, only action meant to bring me down. As long as the other ghosts remained unclaimed she still had power, but she seemed too angry to use it and turned to her fists and teeth instead.

I dropped the bell and fought back, but I was slow and dizzy from the pain in my chest that seemed to be shutting down my ability to breathe, to focus, to see. . . . I struck back more by instinct than anything else, blind and desperate and flailing.

I managed to duck her next blow, diving to the deck and rolling forward, but the cost in black agony was high and I staggered, trying to rise again. I turned around as she flung herself at me with taloned hands outstretched, jaws opening improbably wide to bite at my face. I hopped sideways, falling as much as anything, and turning to get behind her, but she still managed to gouge a bit of waterproof nylon and flesh from my left arm as she whirled around.

I stifled a cry as the yellow slicker shed tears of my blood. She turned back and grinned as I lost my footing and landed hard with one knee against the wet dock boards. Then she darted forward again, swooping lower this time, knowing I could only go down to avoid her.

I knew Solis was somewhere behind me but I wasn’t sure how far away or if his hands were full. I couldn’t spare the attention to find out. I’d have to fend for myself. My vision was unfocused through tears that welled with the agony in my side and arm but I could still see her coming. I shoved my right hand into my pocket and hoped I wouldn’t pass out. . . .

She raked her hands toward my throat, scoring lines in my skin.

I fell flat backward, clutching the gun in my pocket and tilting it upward. I squeezed the grips and trigger, feeling the jolt and burn as the bullet ripped through the fabric, scattering burning residue and jetting hot gas against my hand in the confined hollow of my coat pocket.

She made a guttural sound as she passed over me, kicking, then turning with a jerk, unharmed. She was laughing. She stomped at my head and I rolled aside but she still connected. I screamed as her foot dug into my unbroken ribs, jarring the rest of my body and heaving me a short distance forward, where I folded into a half-fallen heap, unable to breathe or move out of her path, barely staying as upright and conscious as I was. I squeezed my