“No big deal. Pretty much half the population of Captive’s Sound has a boat.”
“How come you guys don’t? No time, with the restaurant?”
Mateo hesitated. “We had one. Mom took it when she—when she drowned herself. Dad never bought another.” He’d never known what became of the boat. Had it washed up, been found and disposed of by some neighbor quick to burn something that had touched the Cabot curse? Or did it drift out to sea? It might still be there, floating in the middle of the ocean, empty and alone.
Nadia’s hand briefly rested on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring that up. I should’ve thought.”
“You didn’t know.” He took a deep breath. “Come on. Let’s get going.”
“Hey, do we have an assignment in chemistry?”
“No homework I can remember. Why?”
“Huh. No reason.”
The motor gunned on the first yank, and soon they were skimming across the shining black water. Going out at dark like this was risky, he knew, but they couldn’t be seen; diving was way more dangerous than boating, and if anybody caught them at it, they’d get hauled back in.
Besides, he figured—they were heading straight for the lighthouse.
It still ran most nights, its golden beam sweeping around the water in wide circles. As the sky overhead darkened, the lighthouse turned on; the first time the beam swept over their boat, it was as if they momentarily dissolved in brilliance.
“Will the lighthouse keeper see us?” Nadia shouted over the roar of the engine. Her black hair streamed behind her in the wind.
Mateo shook his head. “It’s automated. We’re safe.”
Then his eyes widened, and he didn’t feel safe anymore.
Because once again he saw the magic burning bright beneath the water.
Finally the sky was dark enough for Mateo to take it in as he had before. The steady, greenish glow was a few dozen feet from the lighthouse. The churning surface of the waves, this close, meant that the illuminated water leaped and moved as though it were alive somehow, twisting and writhing as if to enclose them.
He cut the motor. Their boat continued forward propelled only by momentum. Nadia frowned at him. “Why are we stopping?”
“We’re almost there. Can you not see it?”
“No. Tell me.”
Mateo pointed at the heart of it, only a few feet away now. The light seemed to form a wreath around their boat, as if they were caught in its net. “Right there. That’s where I need to dive.”
“You mean, where I need to dive.”
He turned toward her, startled. “Nadia, are you crazy? I can see it. You can’t. Being in the ocean—it’s not like being in a pool, you know.”
“But it’s not that different from being in Lake Michigan,” she insisted. “I’m a good swimmer. Even did Red Cross lifeguard training.”
She had him there; Mateo had never been a great swimmer, and he’d given it up altogether after Mom’s death. But he said, “I should still be able to dive for it if I can see it.”
Already she was peeling off her sweatshirt; Nadia gasped softly, probably from the cold air hitting her skin. Next came the thermal undershirt, and then he could see the slim black one-piece she wore beneath. It was a lifeguard’s suit, or a competitive swimmer’s, not the usual brightly colored bikini girls wore to show off on the sand. And yet something about the purposeful way she moved, the simple grace of her, captivated him more than bare skin ever had.
Oblivious to his distraction, Nadia said, “Mateo, whatever is down there is powerful magic. There may be enchantments protecting it. Nobody but a witch would be able to do this. Besides—you’re my Steadfast. You make me stronger. That’s why I need you up here.”
“I don’t like it,” he said, but if what she said was true—he was stuck with it. He tossed the anchor over the side; cold water splashed his arms as the chain snaked down behind it. Fifteen feet deep, maybe a little more: That wasn’t too bad. “Okay. Just—work as fast as possible.”
“Trust me, I intend to.” Nadia had kicked off her sweatpants and shoes, too; she wore only the swimsuit and hugged herself as she looked over the edge. Mateo tried not to stare, at least not to drool like that jerk Jeremy Prasad would, but it was hard not to—she was so close to him, close enough to touch.
For a moment he found himself remembering last summer at the beach, and the girl who’d hooked up with him on a dare. But now, in his mind, he imagined that this time it was Nadia lying on the towel with him beneath the pier, her fingers tangled in his hair as he ran one hand along her bare leg—
Jesus, she’s about to do something seriously dangerous, could you concentrate for a second? Mateo handed her the wrist flashlight he’d brought for his own use. “Here. And if you run into trouble, flick the light off and on really fast, okay?”
“Good idea.” Nadia slipped it on, tested the switch, and took a deep breath. “Point to where you think it is—exactly where.”
He leaned next to her, so that they were shoulder to shoulder, their foreheads touching. Nadia took one sharp breath that made the boat seem to rock and bob even more strongly beneath them. Lifting her hand with his, he made it so that their fingers pointed together to the core of the greenish fire. “Right there.”
“I’ve got it.”
Nadia turned to him as she spoke, and for one moment they remained like that—face-to-face, only inches apart.