So Silver Bright by Lisa Mantchev Read Free Book Online Page B

and permit the currents to take us where they will.”
    As though to prove his point, a sudden breeze swept over the balcony, bringing with it the scent of the sand, of the sea, of lands distant and beckoning.
    Nearly overwhelmed by the desire to fling herself onto the back of the wind, to use the stars as stepping stones, to search out Ariel, to run away, Bertie wondered if she could manage it this time or if she’d only fall again. “I might be a daughter of the earth, but I am bird enough that if I fly again, I will fly where I will.”
    “What do you mean, fly again ?” The Scrimshander twitched, shoulder blades immediately aquiver. As though to echo the question, the landing shuddered underfoot, accompanied by the terrible rumble of stone scraping stone. “Get back from the ledge!” He reached out and caught her by the arm, trying to pull her into the doorway as a wet wheezing noise filled the air: the death rattle of every mariner that ever drowned. “It’s an earthquake!”
    Bertie shook off her father’s grip and stared at the beachfront, her arms breaking out in gooseflesh as her gaze traveled over the spot where waves should have crashed and foamed. The sand there glistened like a wet, open wound. Newly exposed rocks jutted into the sky, pointing accusing fingers at the moon. The silver suggestion of fish jerked and flopped in a danse macabre. “Where did the water go?”
    Before he could croak a response, she had her answer. An immense wave was gathering just off the shallows and building to a seemingly impossible height, and a sudden gust of salt-mist brought with it a familiar noise, one that turned Bertie’s very bones to ice: the triumphant laugh of the Sea Goddess, launching her attack.

CHAPTER FIVE
     
So Quick Bright Things Come to Confusion
     
    “We must fly!” The Scrimshander launched himself into the air even as he grasped Bertie’s wrist, towing her after him.
    Skin once more prickling with the promise of feathers, Bertie gained a foothold upon the sky before her ability to fly was plucked from her mind like a weed from a rose garden. Her father scrabbled to hold on to her, but weighted down by all terror, she fell for the second time today, plummeting to the sand-strewn beach below. She cracked her head with such force on impact that only twinkling stars decorated the landscape. They recalled a sudden and vivid image of Bertie’s Mother, the Player who’d taken part in How Bertie Came to the Theater, with the sequin-dance of light in her eyes. Then the mental slide show shifted to Ophelia reaching for Bertie from the glow of the quick-change corner.
    “Run, dear heart,” her mother whispered, no more than a ghost as the blue light faded. “You must pick yourself up and run.”
    Before Bertie could obey, the tsunami overtook the beach. The ocean enveloped her in angry arms, shoving her against the Caravanserai’s outer wall with a bone-cracking thud, twisting her about, heaving her up. As salty as the Dead Sea and twice as dark, every taste of the water on Bertie’s lips was like a death kiss from Sedna.
    Go back to hell, Bertie tried to command her, but the words were only bubbles as she flailed against her unseen foe. Hands outstretched, Bertie’s fingers closed around what felt like the restaurant’s balcony. Bits of kelp lashed about her ankles, a vicious undertow trying to drag her deep, but the Sea Goddess as yet had not the strength to persevere. Bertie clung to the sandstone like a limpet until the water began a reluctant retreat, trickles running off through open windows and pooling upon the beach.
    Clambering over the railing and onto the verandah, Bertie landed hard upon her knees. Silver hair swirling about her shoulders, she spit water from her mouth and cleared it from her nose, coughing one moment and retching the next. As though in homage to Ophelia, she dripped as her mother usually did, with a gentle pitter-patter that mimicked rain or perhaps a leaky faucet.