Shadows Cast by Stars

Author:Catherine Knutsson
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Published: 2012-06-04T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Bran and I are pulling weeds from between bean plants in the garden. Bees buzz around us, flitting from flower to tiny purple flower while, above, the wind stirs the trees, sending a cascade of needles raining over the lake. Bran sits back on his haunches and swipes at the beads of sweat running down his forehead, leaving a smear of dirt in their place. He looks down at the water. “You can’t avoid going in forever, you know.”

I rip a thistle from the ground. “I know.”

“Today would be a good day. I’m hot and dirty. I could use a swim.”

“Tomorrow. Tomorrow sounds better.”

“Cass.” Bran turns toward me. “It’s been almost a month.”

He’s right. It has. I can’t avoid the lake forever. I pull my work gloves from my hands and throw them down. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

The wind dies as we make our way out along the dock. I stare down at the depths the entire time, looking for the shadow I know is there, but the only thing I see are dead fir needles, a sea of red giving way to silvered water farther out. Bran says nothing as I untie my shoes, sit down, and dip my legs in the icy cold.

I could stop there. Nothing says I need to conquer this today, but despite the glassy appearance of the lake, there’s a sense of urgency in the air. If I don’t do this now, I may never have another chance. I’m not sure why I feel so certain of this, but I do.

“Right,” I say to myself. There’s only one way to fix that. So with a deep breath, I tip myself off the dock and swim to the bottom. Darkness presses in on me as I remain there, treading water, waiting for the sisiutl. Here I am, I think. What are you waiting for?

The world above me is glass-bottle green. The dock sways to and fro and I can see Bran peering down, looking at me looking up at him.

Finally, when my lungs feel like they’re about to burst, I push off toward the surface, breaking the glass bottle into pieces.

Bran’s lying chest-down on the dock. “Wasn’t sure you were going to come up.”

I brush water from my eyes and swim toward him. “Me neither.”

He tries to smile. “At least the monster didn’t come back.”

“That’s what you think.” I reach out and pull him in. I don’t laugh. This is not a game. None of this is a game.

He surfaces and spits water at me. “I knew you’d do that.”

“I knew you knew.” I spit back and then, seized by impulse, I tug my shirt over my head. This is my lake. I claim it as my own, and nothing—not even the sisiutl— will harm me. My shorts come off next as Bran bobs and gapes.

“What are you doing?” he says.

“You wanted to prove the lake wouldn’t hurt me? Well, I’m showing you it won’t hurt me.” I dive, pushing through the water, shattering it with my body.

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