The Last True Poets of the Sea by Julia Drake

Author:Julia Drake
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Disney Book Group
Published: 2019-09-30T16:00:00+00:00

TREASURES OF ATLANTIS

Orion didn’t bring up singing again that week, and I was grateful. Instead, I had him arrange my meeting with Liv, following up on Mariah’s tip about the supposed Lyric porthole. Saturday afternoon, Liv was waiting for me outside Treasures of Atlantis to investigate. It was kind of fun, getting together without a phone: each time we actually met up seemed a small miracle.

“Shall we?” she said. She pushed open the door, the bell tinkled, and I squinted like a reflex against the barrage of crystals and clutter and the silver science whirligigs. The Wonder Emporium was a just-as-crowded, fancier version of Toby’s house, part new age, part antiques, and you could spend a lot of time and money here. My mom hated it.

“Friends!” Felix’s voice came from the depths. “May you find everything you didn’t know you needed! I’m back here, with the ship shit!”

“How does he know it’s us?” I asked Liv.

“He’s probably been saying that to everyone who’s come in for the past hour,” she said.

We twisted through slim aisles, careful not to knock anything over, until we spotted Felix, among lights in brass cages with red and blue lenses, an actual steering wheel—a helm, rather—and rusted metal bells that came up to my hip, all dredged from the sea. Felix pointed above a Liv-size wooden mermaid that leaned haphazardly against the wall, and there was the golden porthole labeled NOT FOR SALE.

“My dad’s luckiest find. He was metal detecting at Seal Cove. Now, admittedly, we are amateur historians—and, like, don’t go spreading it around, because metal detecting at Seal Cove’s illegal—but we believe this comes from the Lyric. The make is consistent with what would have been found on the ship.”

The porthole was a perfect brass circle. This had been on the ship with Fidelia. Maybe she’d even looked out this window, watched the blinding wall of white bear down on her, rubbed off condensation from the peculiar haze. I’d considered showing Liv the letter, but reading it had felt so personal. I wanted it to be just mine.

“We have to go to that beach,” I said to Liv.

“And do what? Deep dives to the bottom of the ocean?”

“Maybe there’s more debris!”

“I can get you the shop’s metal detector,” Felix offered. “It’s a little wonky, but…”

“You just said it’s illegal,” said Liv.

“But if it’s illegal to look there, maybe the ship’s been hiding in plain sight, for years, like that Revolutionary War ship you mentioned. Seriously! It doesn’t hurt to look. Another artifact could confirm the ship’s location. Why not? Next weekend?”

“You’ve created a wreck-hunting monster, Liv,” Felix said.

“This is what I get for asking people to consider things a metaphor,” she muttered, but I could tell she was pleased.

I considered the porthole, tugging on the watch around my neck. I’d been wearing it since I’d found it in my mom’s jewelry box, fiddling with the charms when I was thinking.

“That’s quite a necklace, Violet,” Felix said.

“It was my mom’s. It’s lucky, supposedly.”

“Emeralds are usually cursed,” Felix said.

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