Page 22 of The Redd Key (Bone Coven #1)

W ind whipped during the morning hours, and the air was thick with salt. A low-level nor’easter was making its way up toward Downeast, Maine through New England, bringing with it gale force winds and the threat of flooding. The north shore of Redd Hills was more minacious than I had yet to see it, with whitecaps crashing against the pier sending a spray of water high into the air. The fishing boats bobbed; the ropes that anchored them to the docks were pulled taught.

Sarah, Bridget, and I braved the impending chaos and met at the harbor for a much needed brunch after last night’s shenanigans.

Vomiting on Agatha was just the beginning of an embarrassing evening. Hearties wasn’t too happy that their dance floor was covered in vomit, nor was the driver of the SUV when I threw up there. My ability to hold my alcohol, or lack thereof, became a massacre. At least I could puke over the side of the boat, much to Chris’ appreciation.

The Boathouse Cafe was considerably empty, sparing five weathered men huddled together around a table in the corner. Their stench was of salt and dead fish hitting us full on as we walked in, causing my stomach to lurch. I fought the urge to repeat last night’s massacre. Focusing on anything but the smell, the three of us took seats at the bar and opened smudged menus.

“God, I wish I could have seen Aggy’s face,” Bridget said as she scanned the menu.

“I wish I could have seen it, too,” I said, relishing the mental fantasy I created.

“You literally threw up in her face, what do you mean you didn’t see it?” Sarah questioned, still wearing her sunglasses inside.

“I mean I just don’t remember it.” I sipped my water, “I can’t believe I blacked out. Thanks for making sure I had fun for my birthday.” I buried my head in my crossed arms. Flashes of last night popping in and out of my mind as my memory fought to come back.

“You and Griffin seemed to have gotten along really well.” Bridget looked around for the waiter.

“Oh my god, did he get hit too?” I cringed, mortified.

“Don’t worry. He wasn’t in the splash zone,” Sarah respired softly. “You’re good, don’t worry about it.” She held her head in her hands, massaging her temples.

“How are you more hungover than me?” I squinted at Sarah, a tiny chuckle escaping from me.

“I didn’t puke it all up last night so it’s all still sloshing inside of me, and now, I am trying not to vomit. The smell here isn’t exactly helping.”

“You guys want to split something? The seafood is great, obviously, so I think we should get a sampler,” Bridget suggested, though my attention was caught elsewhere. The group of fishermen were huddled closely together at their table, deep in their conversation.

“Mick said it wasn’t like anythin’ he’d ever seen. Swells eight stories high, not movin’ nowhere, jus’ standin’ still,'' one of the smelly men said. I shifted my chair, angling myself a little better to overhear.

“Well, we all know the kinds of stories Mick tells,” the man with the deep voice laughed. The others joined in, their booming joy echoing off the walls.

“But I’m tellin’ you, that’s not the first time somethin’ odd has happened. Ever since that Lander got here, all sorts of strange happenin’s have been goin’ on.” Lander jogged my memory; that was what Aggy called me at the coffee shop. She said it as a slur, but I wasn’t sure if that was how the fisherman meant it.

“Now, come on,” said the skinniest one. His muscles were long and lean, but the wrinkling of his skin showed that he must have been close to seventy years old. “Jeff has been nothing but a hard worker. We’ve gotten more done since he’s been here than ever before. Aye, he may be a quiet one, but he’s intelligent and strong. Let me tell you, he’s got an eye, that one. He knows where all the fish are. And I haven’t seen you lug eighty-pound crates like he does, Larry,” he teased the first man.

“Then you didn’t see me twenty years ago,” Larry guffawed. The five of them then changed the course of conversation to trophy fish and their glory days, yelling over each other about whose catch was the biggest.

“Did you hear that?” I turned to the girls, who stared at me blankly.

“Are you alright with tartar sauce?” Sarah ignored my question to ask her own, pointing to the menu.

“What do you think Jeff would like?” Bridget asked. “We can bring him something. He wouldn’t mind some lunch, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” I said to them both. I would have loved to point out the obvious crush Bridget had on my brother, but my instincts knew not to push it. However, I agreed. Whether Jeff knew about the anomaly, or if he was the cause of it, talking to him seemed like a good idea. Swells, standing still, sounded a little too much like magic to me. I shivered, reminded of the cove dream my first night on the island – the ocean looming over me like a steel wall.

We ate in near silence, focused completely on fighting our brewing hangovers. Sarah seemed to gain some life after a lobster roll and a bloody Mary. Surprisingly, Bridget really only touched a platter of French fries while I ate everything else on the table, including lobster mac n cheese, french toast with sausage, and biscuits with gravy. The server watched us cautiously each time he refilled our waters, probably waiting for the three of us to succumb to our very obvious hangovers.

“I needed that,” Sarah said, stretching as she stood. Even her curls seemed to spring back a little livelier than they had before.

“That was so good,” I chimed as I left a tip on the counter. The three of us were full and happy as we walked out of the restaurant.

“So glad I wore leggings,” Sarah said with a loud sigh. Bridget zipped up her sweatshirt, pulling the hood over her head.

Obscured by heavy rain clouds, the sun burned like embers in the slate sky. It hadn’t risen much higher above the horizon but instead arched across in a low curve. The whipping coastal wind blew my hair in my face, stinging any exposed skin. Inhaling the scent of the bay, tar from the docks, and the wafting fried food, my hangover was nearly cured.

“Are you sure he wants chicken?” Bridget held the greasy paper bag out in front of her as the three of us walked down the docks. She caught herself before stepping on a dead seagull. “Ugh, gross.” Bridget glanced past the rotting carcass. It reminded me of the one at my doorstep with a dark puddle pooling around it. I half expected to see Martin and Pilot come scavenge for it, but the creatures were nowhere in sight today.

Stepping around the broken bird, I reassured Bridget, “I’m positive. He’s around fish all day, B. Chicken will be fine.” I looked around the harbor for Jeff. He was unloading crates from a recent shipment just farther down the wooden deck. Once near, I called out to him, “Hey, Jeff.” He looked up, straightening as he wiped his forehead with his arm.

“Hey, what’s up?” Jeff said breathlessly with a nod. He heaved a large crate onto a cart and removed his worn-out work gloves.

“We brought you lunch,” Bridget said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. She held out the paper bag as she took another step towards Jeff. He simply stared at her, but after a moment, he grabbed the bag where her hand held it. Sarah snorted.

“Yeah, we went to Boat and some fishermen were there–,” I began, pushing the conversation past the awkward moment.

“Don’t listen to them,” Jeff interrupted as he stepped forward to meet Bridget. “They’ve been out at sea too long. They’re crazy.” He looked at where he still held the bag, and Bridget’s hand, when she promptly let go of it. “Thanks,” he smirked at her as she tried hard to act casual with a shrug.

“What are those?” Sarah pointed to the unmarked crates.

“Just boxes of stuff,” Jeff mumbled with half of the chicken sandwich in his mouth. Thank you, Captain Obvious. I rolled my eyes.

“Jeff, could I ask you something?” He looked at me, stopping mid-chew. “It’s about what those guys were talking about. Have you seen those weird swells?” I blurted the question out quickly so he couldn’t interrupt. He finished the sandwich with his next bite, seemingly ignoring me. Picking up a heavy coil of thick rope, Jeff stepped out onto the dock where it juts out farthest into the bay. He walked down the planks and hung the coil on a piling at the end of the dock. “Come on, Jeff, it’s important.” I followed my brother and for a brief second, I was overwhelmed by being surrounded by water on all sides. Bridget and Sarah were close behind, looking out over the horizon, I could hear them, whispering to each other.

“Yes. I’ve seen them.” He finally caved. “But I have no idea what’s causing them. Whatever you heard them say, it’s not me making that happen.” He spoke firmly.

“H-How would you possibly even be able to do something like that?” I heard myself ask, trying hard to dismiss the notion of someone being capable of such a thing. With our newly discovered powers, I now wondered if Bridget, Sarah, and I could make the ocean stand vertically with the tides towering over the horizon.

“Raina,” Sarah called out, her voice laced with urgency. “You need to look at this.” She and Bridget were standing stock still, staring at the sky offshore.

On the horizon, the clouds were grey and orange, their shape ever-changing as they grew darker, looming more by the second. The red sun was no longer visible as the sky blackened. The wind grew fiercer. Chills, too sudden to be caused by a drop in temperature, ran down the back of my neck as a large raindrop kissed my face. The sea started to churn, sloshing onto the dock where we stood. Suddenly, I felt incredibly vulnerable.

Jeff was tying down the closest boat even tighter and hurriedly moved onto the next.

“I think the nor’easter just arrived,” I heard Bridget yell over the howling of the wind and the spraying of the sea.

“Sarah,” I called out to her, my voice pitching up in alarm. I felt an unseen threat spike in the air around us, like a sharp charge in the molecules. Sarah had already shown an affinity for Air, and her magic could be used to fight back the waves while we were all stuck on this dock.

To risk exposing our magic seemed worth it as the rain now came streaming down in sheets. The waves grew bigger, and I could see Sarah struggling to tame the raging water. She held her hands in front of her as if she was pushing against an invisible wall. Waves splashed back against her power, but the ocean rose above the edge of the deck. It took everything I had not to lose my footing against the slippery planks.

A wave crashed over her and Sarah, but Sarah stood unscathed. Bridget let out a terrified scream, which was cut off as she was swept off the side of the dock under a veil of sea water. She began grasping wildly at the rope coil, fighting against the current into the sea. She gasped for breath as the water washed over her. My stomach lurched; helplessness paralyzed me.

“Hang on,” Jeff roared. Rushing to the side of the dock, he slid over to her, grabbing Bridget by the arm. Wave after wave pounded against them as the fierce storm built in its imposing rage.

“Sarah!” I called out again. I urged my own Aecor to match and expand on hers, magnifying her strength.

“I’m trying, but the waves are too strong,” she yelled back. I could hear the struggle in her voice, and it was as if something unlocked within my mind. No longer allowing myself to do nothing, I pushed out from a place deep inside of me, I pleaded for my power to do anything at all.

“Oh my god,” I muttered. On the horizon, swells the sizes of skyscrapers were towering over us, heralding to consume the very dock on which we stood.

“What–who is that?” Bridget cried out, her shrill voice piercing through the gust as she pointed to where the dock met the land. Her words were interrupted by mouthfuls of water, as Jeff fought to keep her head above the surface. The current was too strong for him to pull her out of harm's way, but he maintained a steady grasp on her arm. We all turned to see a shadowed figure standing with their arms raised. It looked like the shadow that chased us into the cove. Aecor pulsated off of them. Like a beating in my chest, it competed with my heartbeat to take control. It was magic unlike I had yet to feel. Carried on by the wind, the shadow’s voice chanted in a familiar rhythm, but I couldn’t fully hear the incantation.

Witch . The word sank into my bones, turning them to ice. The sky swirled, matching the way the person moved their arms, and the churning of the water responded to the flicks of their wrists. They were manipulating the sky and the sea to cause harm to Sarah, Bridget, and I. This was an attack.

We knew it was a big risk, that we could become even more of a target by performing the Binding Ritual, but this was well beyond anything I could have fathomed. Panic paralyzed me as my lungs fought to remember how to breathe. My vision pricked with black along the edges; my peripheral sight was gone. The deep, resonant vibrations from the chanting shook and splintered the wood under our feet. The ocean lurched itself at us. A solid wall of the sea pressed in on us as a scream ripped from my lips.

“No!” Jeff growled, keeping one hand on Bridget as she struggled to hold onto him and the rope. He made a sweeping motion with his other arm, and with intent, an enormous wave rose and crashed over the base of the dock, knocking the shadow figure headfirst into one of the pilings and their limp body splashed into the water below.

Immediately, the rainfall trickled down, the clouds grew thinner, and streaks of sunlight pierced the horizon. I ran over to the dock’s edge.

“Raina, don’t!” Jeff pulled Bridget onto the wooden planks and ran over to me. We both peered into the watery depths to find nothing. Sarah and Bridget ran to the other side, and again, nothing. Whoever that was had been swallowed whole by the ocean.

The four of us stood in silent astonishment, the steady lapping of the docile waves and the gulls calling out overhead taking over. Not only had we been attacked in broad daylight, no, what just happened was completely insane…baffling— Jeff used magic.