The Secret Deep by Lindsay Galvin

Author:Lindsay Galvin [Galvin, Lindsay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B07PZW5YSS
Publisher: Chicken House
Published: 2020-02-04T00:00:00+00:00

“… and the boy … he could breathe underwater. Through gills.” I catch Iona’s and Beti’s expressions. I’m babbling now, but I can’t stop. “He couldn’t talk, couldn’t breathe on land. He bandaged my knee with seaweed stuff. He rode a … a manta ray …”

I falter. It sounds ridiculous. Iona slowly nods.

“The sting toxin had a strong hallucinogenic effect. Combined with the shock of what you’ve seen …”

Iona doesn’t believe me.

“The boy wasn’t a hallucination! He swam with his feet together, a dolphin kick, and he wore rags but had spears and knives. I met him way before I even saw a jellyfish, before I was stung,” I say, my words garbling together. The heat in my cheeks travels to my chest as I imagine how I must sound.

Sea Boy held me down beneath the jellyfish. If I hadn’t escaped him, I would have drowned. But I suspect he got me back to the island somehow, because how did I get back otherwise?

Did he bring Callum back too? Could he have had something to do with his death?

“Jellyfish toxins are agonizing. Extreme pain can cause a break from reality, a state of delirium. Plus you’ve been under incredible stress, were dehydrated, possibly suffering from exposure—”

I release a barking laugh as I remember thinking the same things myself when I saw the boy’s impossible face through the water. I force my voice to be calm although I feel panic rising.

“You have to believe me. Look,” I say, lifting my knee. The cut is sealed, and there’s no sign of how deep it was, or of the sticky seaweed. The mark is almost lost in the scrawled purple stings all around it.

Iona meets my eyes, and her sympathetic look makes my heart thump against my ribs.

She’s making it seem like I’m crazy? She’s the one who experimented on us, who knocked us unconscious and brought us to the middle of nowhere. And now Callum is dead. If Callum can be dead, then Poppy—

Don’t think it.

I pull down the neck of my swimsuit. “The boy’s gills were here,” I say, tracing a shaking finger between my ribs, then behind my ears. “I saw them up close, I know I did.”

Iona tries to take my hand, but I snatch it away.

“Aster—it seems likely that you and Callum were together when he was attacked, as his injuries were in the places you describe. One way for the brain to process a traumatic incident is to frame it in a fantastical way. His injuries were unusual, possibly made by a clawed animal. When you start to remember—”

“I do remember. We weren’t together, I told you what happened. I know where his injuries were”—my voice hisses between my teeth—“because I saw him on the beach.”

I stare at Iona, then close my mouth. “I want to see him now.”

“You were unconscious through the whole evening and night and most of today. We’ve already buried him, Aster,” says Iona.

I stand abruptly and sway, light-headed. This is my fault. I should have listened to Poppy.

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