Shifting (Swans Landing) by Shana Norris Read Free Book Online

go.”
    She started back toward the shore, but with my tail, I was much faster than she could ever hope to be. I darted through the water, surfacing in front of her. The wide-eyed expression on her face showed I’d surprised her. In that moment, Elizabeth Connors looked something I had never seen in her before: vulnerable.
    So I let myself be a little vulnerable too and told her the truth.
    “I don’t want to you go.”
    Water dripped down her face and off her chin, disappearing into the foaming waves around her shoulders. I reached for her hand and she didn’t pull away.
    “Do you trust me?” I asked.
    She bit her lip, then nodded. “Yes.”
    “Hold your breath.” I entwined my fingers in hers as she sucked in a huge gulp of air. Then I arced toward the water, pulling her with me and letting our two worlds merge into one.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Eight
     
     
    “The catches are getting better,” Lake said brightly as he hauled another crab pot to the boat and tossed it over the side. It landed at my feet, spraying my ankles with salt water. The crabs inside scuttled over each other, their claws tangled as they snapped furiously at being wrenched from the bottom of the sound.
    Lake treaded water next to the boat, bobbing along on the mostly still surface. It was seven A.M. and I had to be at school in an hour and a half. I didn’t always come out with Lake to bring in catches before school since it was an exhausting job, but I liked doing it when I could. I’d stay as long as possible, then Lake would drop me back off on shore and I’d race to Swans Landing School, smelling like crabs and salt.
    I dumped the crabs from the wire pot into the giant plastic bin in Lake’s boat, then rebaited the pot and tossed it back into the water. “We’re almost full,” I said, surveying the plastic bin where the crabs fought and walked all over each other. The catch was picking up as the water warmed, but it had been a while since we’d had a catch this good.
    Lake pulled himself from the water, expertly hopping over the side of the boat even with his finfolk tail. The golden scales faded and drew back into his skin as he shook the water off himself.
    “Maybe this is a good sign,” Lake said, pulling on his shorts once he had legs again. “If the sea life is returning to the area, the industry will pick up again.”
    I knew Lake hoped desperately things would pick up, like most everyone else in Swans Landing did. The tourists weren’t the only beings that had become rare around our island. Without the fish or the tourists, it was a struggle to hang on around here.
    At least with the humans, they had more options. We finfolk were stuck looking for other coastal towns where we could blend in. Or else, the finfolk homeland, which no one we knew had ever found.
    With our bin nearly overflowing with crabs, Lake turned the boat around and headed back toward the sound side dock. The clouds had thinned today and the sun turned the sky pinkish orange as it rose over the island ahead of us. Most people hadn’t started their day yet and I closed my eyes, reveling in the peacefulness of the morning. The air was silent except for the steady rumble of Lake’s boat. For a moment, I could forget all of my problems with girls and my worries about Miss Gale and whether I smelled as bad as I thought I did.
    But a moment never lasted long. As we pulled into the dock, we were greeted by the sight of a familiar larger fishing boat already docked there. I could make out the white lettering on the back as we drew closer: The Lizzie. Elizabeth Connors’s dad’s boat.
    Mr. Connors stood on the bow of his boat, an old baseball cap pulled low on his forehead atop a deep scowl that he kept aimed our way as Lake maneuvered his smaller, older boat next to the dock.
    I hopped out, trying to ignore the feel of Mr. Connors’s glare on my back as I tied the rope in place.
    “That boat of yours looks even more pathetic every time I