Spirits of Ash and Foam (25 page)

The kids were gone.

Thibideaux turned to Fred Kim. He couldn't confirm the crabs or the seagulls. He wasn't even sure about the fog. He did remember being distracted by a song he heard on the wind. He had been watching his children playing in the sand one second. The next second, they were gone.

When Esther heard this, she balled her fists. Finally, the tears came pouring down. Fred reached for her, but she turned her back on him. If these kids weren't found—and perhaps even if they were—she would never forgive him. He would never forgive himself.

Bailey Hall, the eighteen-year-old lifeguard, had a story similar to Fred's. He had seen the Kims arrive on the beach. He had seen the kids playing in the sand near their parents. He had even seen Mrs. Kim leave her family, heading for the Rusty's Gourmet Sandwiches truck. Then he too was briefly distracted by a beautiful song—though he couldn't identify the source of the music. Seconds later, he heard Mrs. Kim shouting for the kids, who were nowhere in sight. Crabs? Gulls? Fog? He didn't know what the constable was talking about.

Cassie Barrett—Rusty's twenty-year-old redheaded daughter—clearly remembered making the wraps for Mrs. Kim. From her vantage in the sandwich truck, she hadn't seen any crabs or gulls, but she certainly remembered the absolutely “freaky fog” and the feeling of sadness it seemed to conjure. She had heard no song, and she never once saw the kids, not before or after the fog. She only came out of the truck when she heard Mrs. Kim screaming. Then she called the Ghost Patrol.

Thibideaux consulted with Deputy Constables Perez and Stabler. He confirmed that everything possible was being done to find the children. He gave them a description of the old woman at the train station and told Perez to call Deputy Constable Mariah Viento—one of the few in the Pueblo not currently deployed in Windward to aid in the search—and have her question Rain Cacique at the Nitaino Inn about the woman she and the Kim kids interacted with the day before. Then Jean-Marc took a breath.

Stabler, a veteran deputy, recognizing the sad inevitability in his boss' exhale, leaned in and whispered, “Doesn't look promising, does it?”

Thibideaux glanced around to make sure no one was in earshot. Then, “We've seen it before. A parent gets distracted. Even a lifeguard gets distracted. And a kid wades out too deep.”

“But three kids?” Perez asked, trying to find any excuse to
not
believe the Occam's Razor obviousness of what Thibideaux was suggesting.

“One kid gets in trouble. Another swims out to help,” Stabler said. “Boss is right. We've seen it before.”

Jean-Marc was already sorry he had hypothesized anything. “Let's not get ahead of ourselves. It's only been a few hours. Keep up the search.”

But the cold, hard fact—birds and beasts, fog and song aside—was that Jean-Marc didn't see much hope.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

WARM SOFT TAILS

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 15

At the Nitaino Inn, Deputy Constable Mariah Viento questioned the minor Rain Cacique in front of her parents, Alonso Cacique and Iris Cacique … and in front of her dead and invisible glowing grandfather, Sebastian Bohique, who stood behind Rain, resisting the urge to place a noncorporeal hand on her shoulder.

In her notes, Viento would record that Rain seemed truly torn up about the disappearance of the three Kim children. When asked to describe what happened the day before, Rain seemed horrified—and yet not particularly surprised to learn the two incidents might be connected. She looked guilty enough that Mariah briefly wondered if Rain might not know more than she was saying. (But the young deputy decided this was merely Rain feeling responsible for having been with the children when they met their possible abductor. So Viento's report did
not
mention Rain's guilt-ridden glances over her shoulder.)

Choosing her words carefully, Rain said, “I took the kids to Próspero Beach, to the Alcove. We played in the sand. We played tetherball. It was all pretty normal.”

Viento consulted her notes and said, “The parents mentioned something about a woman that wanted the kids to swim with her?”

“I don't
know
if that's what she wanted. I mean, she went in the water. And the kids tried to follow Her. But my friend Miranda had brought us lunch, so we made them wait to swim.”

“Miranda?”

“Miranda Guerrero. She's the daughter of Pablo Guerrero.”

“
The
Pablo Guerrero?”

“Yeah.”

“Who else was there?”

“My friend Charlie.”

“That's Charlie Dauphin,” Alonso said, trying to help.

Viento wrote the name down. “Anyone else?”

“Not with us.”

“Anyone else on the beach you recognized?”

“Ramon Hernandez and Linda Wheeler were there for a while. Oh, and Connor Kelty and Conner Ellison. And the lifeguard, Pedro Serrano.”

“Is that it?”

“There were a few tourists there, but I didn't know them.”

“Can you describe them?”

“Um, there were a couple white girls. Both blonde. Or one was blonde and one strawberry blonde, I guess. They looked like they were about nineteen or twenty. And there were a couple of guys about that age too. Surfers. They both had curly black hair; they might have been brothers. It sounded like they were speaking Italian to each other. But I'm not sure.”

“And that's it?”

“That's it. It wasn't very crowded. No one else was around.”

“Except the woman.”

“Uh, right.”

“Can you describe her?”

Rain swallowed hard. “She was very beautiful. Long black hair, big brown eyes. Skin the color of caramel, like when it's poured over an apple at Carnivale.”

Mariah raised an eyebrow at the indulgent description.

Rain looked at her feet and said, “Brown skin.”

“How old?”

“I'm not sure. She
looked
like she was in her late teens. Early twenties, maybe. But I suppose she might have been … older.”

“What was she wearing?”

Up to this point, Rain had attempted to tell the truth, more or less. Now she knew she'd have to fudge a bit more. “Well, she was swimming. So she was wearing … a seaweed green suit.” That specific phrasing made her feel a little better, but even that smidgen of honesty wouldn't last.

“Had you seen her before?”

“No.”

“Do you have any idea why the kids were so interested in her? Did she talk to them?”

“I don't think so. Wendy—that's the Kims' daughter—she kinda liked to pretend she was grown-up and do grown-up things. If she saw grown-up girls, she'd try to do what they were doing. John and Michael sorta followed her lead.”

“Mr. Kim said the woman was singing.”

“He did? Um, I guess so.”

“You don't remember her singing?”

“Vaguely,” Rain answered honestly. “I couldn't tell you which song, though.”

“Anything else?”

There was a lot else, but Rain shook her head.

Deputy Constable Viento closed her notebook. She turned to address Iris and Alonso, informing them she would question Charlie, Conner, Connor, Pedro, Ramon and Linda and try to track down the four tourists and the woman. Rain noticed she hadn't mentioned Miranda and wondered if Viento had left her out by accident—or if the deputy was intimidated by the Guerrero name and hesitant to question the Sycorax C.E.O.'s daughter.

Rain couldn't have felt worse. Once again, a part of her wanted to scream out the truth. All of it. IAnd if she really thought it might help the Kimlets, she probably would have. But no one would believe her without the pictures on that camera. So the truth would only freak people out about
Rain.
Put
her
under suspicion. She wouldn't be free to conduct her own search. And ultimately, she felt certain she was still the best chance Wendy, John and Michael had. Even if it
was
her fault they had been taken in the first place.

This all played out on her face, and Mariah saw it. She hesitated and then put a reassuring hand on Rain's shoulder, saying, “Rain, this isn't your fault. You gave us a lot of helpful details, and in any case this might have nothing to do with the kids going missing. You didn't do anything wrong.”

Rain was not so sure.

Minutes later, up in her room, it took all of 'Bastian's persuasive power to convince Rain not to sneak out to look for the kids that night. To help assuage her, he put the armband on his wrist and ventured out to find them—though he had no clue where to look, short of walking across the open ocean.

Rain went back downstairs and phoned first Charlie and then Miranda to inform them about the Kimlets and warn them about Viento and the version of the truth Rain had related to the deputy. Charlie was quiet for a long time. Finally, he asked the obvious. “It was the mermaid?”

“I don't know. But yeah. Probably.”

“Right. Okay. Now what?”

“I don't know,” she said again. “But we have to find them.”

“Yeah, assuming…” He trailed off, but she knew what he hadn't said.
Assuming Aycayia didn't drown them.

He said, “We'll figure it out tomorrow. Get to school early, okay?”

“I will.”

Miranda didn't take it nearly as calmly. When Rain finished her benumbed explanation, she thought Miranda might cry. Then Rain could hear Miranda gasping for breath.
She's not crying. She's sobbing!
Instantly, Rain felt like sobbing, too.

Miranda choked out, “This is … our … fault…”

“I know.”

“We've … gotta … fix it…”

“I know,” Rain said again. “Get to school early. We'll meet up with Charlie. We'll figure this out.” She didn't mention or even allude to drowning.

Miranda said, “Okay,” and hung up the phone without another word. Rain stood in the kitchen, holding the receiver for another few seconds. Then she replaced it on its cradle and slowly walked up the back stairs.

Reluctantly, Rain went to bed. She tossed and turned, unable—and then unwilling—to sleep. She listened for the phone or for the front door, praying that a call would come with an update or that the Kims—all the Kims—would simply return. But there was nothing. In fact, it seemed unnaturally quiet. Rain then decided to wait up for 'Bastian. She knew he'd be back just before dawn, but as the night stretched out, having determined to stay awake, sleep overtook her …

Rain walked along Windward Bar as the coast curved around onto Windward Strand. A dense fog drifted in from the water, but Rain could see Mrs. Kim cut off from the sand by a strange line of dancing crabs and gulls. Suddenly, Rain felt a sense of urgency. She ran into the fog and immediately lost her bearings. She heard music—no, not music: singing. And the song was beautiful. The song was entrancing. She slowed down again to listen, to attempt to make out the words …

But the words hardly seemed to matter. She wandered through the fog, searching for the source of the beautiful song …

It was a single voice, a woman's voice … and Rain knew this woman, this singer, this Siren, would be beautiful.

Yes. The fog was lifting and there she was. The beautiful Aycayia. Kneeling beside three children. And even from behind, the children looked familiar. Yes, Rain knew these children. Of course she knew them. They were the Kimlets: Wendy, John and Michael. The Lost Girl. The Lost Boys. They were smiling at Aycayia the Beautiful. They were following Her into the water. Mr. Kim and the lifeguard were smiling as they watched them go.

Rain watched the three kids vanish into the surf in pursuit of Aycayia the Beautiful …

In pursuit of Aycayia the Cursed!

Rain remembered her urgency. An urgency rapidly descending into panic! She ran; she ran and dove into the water. The water was clear, but she couldn't find Aycayia or the Kimlets.

Then she spotted a dolphin. No, not one dolphin. Six. They swam in a circle, and Rain tried to get past them, but they blocked her path, thwarted her efforts. However, they didn't try to stop her from seeing what took place within the circle. Aycayia the Cursed was climbing back into her manatee skin. Hiding her beauty within a wrinkled, blubbery mass. The three children treaded water beside Her, rapt. How were they breathing? Were they breathing?

Soon the question was moot. The manatee. Aycayia. Her. She tapped each child gently with her tail. One by one, they were transformed. Wendy became a dolphin. John became a dolphin. Michael became a dolphin. These new dolphins were smaller than Aycayia's Sisters. They were young pups. They swam around Her and barked happily.

On the far side of the circle, the Sisters gave way. The manatee raced off, and the dolphin pups followed. Again Rain tried to pursue, but the Sisters barred her. Rain had to surface, to breathe. She came up for air to find Mr. and Mrs. Kim, the lifeguard, Mariah Viento, her own parents, Isaac, Callahan, Pablo Guerrero, Miranda, Charlie, Ramon, Linda, Hank, Marina and Renée standing on the shore, staring at her, pointing at her. “This is your fault,” they said in chorus. “You knew she wanted them. You knew…”

Rain felt herself sinking down under the weight of their recriminations. She sank away, drowning in her guilt and the warm, soft water …

She woke with a start, twisted up unmercifully in her warm, soft covers …

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

GUILTED CAGE

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 16

In the morning, the
zemi
was back on the old Spanish desk. 'Bastian had returned before dawn but had chosen not to wake Rain, who had somehow managed to fall back asleep. She wondered if he'd have news for her at sunset—but she knew it was unlikely, and in any case, she couldn't afford to wait.