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“You don’t need to tell me, Lyric,” I said quietly. “I was hoping this whole thing might have nudged him slightly into a broken heart. But he has his fighting and his dragons to keep him busy. Not to mention I’m sure there are plenty of—” I stopped. “Fudge and Twinkies … the bell!” I grabbed Lyric’s hand.

She stumbled along behind me in shock. “What the⁠—”

Her question was interrupted by the bell. I rang it hard and loud. “To the towers! Now.” Even though I’d proven myself once, the watchmen on the towers looked skeptical until one of them lifted his spyglass and grabbed for his own bell. A second later, complete pandemonium hit the town. Lyric and I were three towers away from the towers where we’d hung the ropes and pulleys. Someone needed to be there to pull the rope.

“Hurry, we need to get to the rope,” I told Lyric.

“But we’re running toward the tidal surge,” she said. “You know what? Never mind. Let’s get those damn fish.”

We were like fish as well, swimming upstream as people plowed toward us to the nearest towers. Twice someone clashed shoulders painfully hard with me and nearly knocked me off balance. In the distance, the Blackforge Sea and its deadly tide rolled toward us with menacing power. The chaos of panicked people and carts being pushed out of the way slowed our progress.

“It’s here,” Lyric squeaked. “Oh, Odin, please don’t let me die like this. Mama would never forgive me.”

We reached the tower just as the first waves sloshed up on shore. Our shoes were instantly soaked. The second wave was bigger and stronger. Lyric and I held each other’s hands so tightly, I couldn’t feel my fingers. I reached for the bottom rung of the tower just as a good-sized wave plowed into us, taking out both our feet. Lyric screamed but we didn’t let go of each other. And my grip on the tower held. The violent water kept moving. Lyric floated off like a kite on a string, but I yanked her back toward me. We both grabbed the tower rungs and began climbing to the second platform where the pulley and tied off rope hung.

“Excuse us.” Lyric elbowed her way past some grumpy stares. “We have something very important to do.” Her elbowing technique was better than mine. She made it to the rope first and started to untie it.

“No, don’t pull it yet,” I told her. I looked across at the parallel tower, but there was so much activity and movement, I couldn’t even see the pulley. My heart sank. “This will only work if someone pulls it on the other side. Revel said he’d told the watchtower guards about the plan, but they were all very cynical and doubted it would work. It definitely won’t if only one side of the net is raised.” My hopes were dashed.

“But at least you gave everyone a five-second start. It worked last time. Maybe it’ll work again.”

I nodded weakly. “I was really hoping to stop this recurring nightmare for good.”

“We’ll lift our side regardless.” She held the rope, and I grabbed it, too. “Just tell me when.” The others on the platform had dropped their terror for a second to look with profound curiosity at the two women standing next to an old fishing pulley. We ignored the puzzled stares and held firm to our mission. I was sure now it was a waste of time. With only one side of the net lifted, the nasty fish could easily swim past it back to the sea.

I leaned out to get a better look. The swell of the surge had flattened. I glanced up along the gulley and spotted the first sign that the water was about to peel back and roll out to sea. “Now, Lyric!” The raggedy, thick rope burned our palms as we yanked on it. Seconds later, the first corner of the net lifted up out of the water. People began pointing and murmuring to each other. Several men laughed and shook their heads to let us know what they thought of our plan.

“You can’t catch those fish. They’re the work of an evil sorceress,” one woman told us.

We ignored the comment and kept pulling. “Look, Rafi!” Lyric motioned with her head toward the gulley.

I leaned out to see what had caught her attention. My heart jumped, and I squealed with joy as I noticed the other corner of the net break free of the fast-moving tide. The top of the net stretched across the gulley now, free of the water by at least a foot. The water rolled back out and the usual shouts back and forth between towers checking for loved ones began.

Everyone had moved to one side of the tower to stare down at the net.

Lyric stretched up to have a look. “I don’t see the rippling surface, the one that tells us they’re—you know.” She dropped her face, and I could read her thoughts. She was thinking about the sister she’d lost to the flesh-hungry Krakatow. My own thoughts got mired in the loved one I’d lost recently to the same malevolent beasts.

A tense silence fell over the town as the water continued to pull free of the gulley. My gaze surveyed the length of the wet ditch. No skeleton. I’d temporarily forgotten that I was holding the rope until it ripped across my hand. I snatched it tightly before the net dropped. Lyric braced her feet hard against the floorboards to keep hold of it, too. It was like a giant fish caught on the end of a thin line. The pressure was immense, and I was sure I’d lose my grip on the rope. Suddenly, a large hand wrapped around the end of the rope and then another, and soon four men held the rope tightly. Lyric and I raced over to the railing to watch below. Our palms bled and were filled with bits of rope. As the water pulled away, the first wild vibrations began.

A collective gasp circled the town. The shiny black fish had come up against their first and, hopefully, final enemy. The last bit of tide rolled back, leaving its deadly cargo on the dry side of the net. They flopped around frantically. For a second, I almost felt bad for them, then I remembered what they’d done to Raina and Lyric’s sister and Tildy’s sweet son, Worlo.

Everyone was glued to the scene below, and it seemed not one person dared to take a breath in fear that it might somehow stop what was happening. Slowly, some of the fish fell to the ground, limp and presumably dead. There were so many, the mound of struggling fish stretched across the gulley and close to the top of the net.

No one pulled their gaze from the net. Everyone standing on the towers was waiting to see the last monstrous fish take its final breath. More and more fish fell limp to the ground until it seemed to be happening exponentially, and when the last bit of movement had stilled, something incredible happened. The entire pile of presumably dead Krakatow vanished in a puff of gray smoke. Still, no one dared move or breathe. We all stared down into the gulley, trying to understand what we’d just witnessed.

“The spell is over,” an elderly woman said as she stared over the railing. “Calista’s magic vanished as soon as the last of her creatures took its final breath.” She turned her milky blue eyes toward everyone. “It’s over.”

A loud cheer went up in our tower at the woman’s last two words, and the same cheers followed like a wave in a football stadium until they reached the last tower. I hadn’t solved the problem of the tidal surge and the damage and even drowning that would still occur, but Calista’s beastly spell was gone.

I looked across to see who had helped, pulling the net on the other side, and my knees weakened when Revel’s familiar gaze stared back at me. A faint smile appeared on his face.

My attention was pulled away when the villagers lined up to thank me personally. Lyric had pointed me out as the brains behind the plan. There were hugs and promises of all kinds of food and drink and warm blankets, everything a girl could need to be comfortable in Norvale.

There was only one problem with that. In two days’ time, I’d leave my beloved home forever.

Thirty-Six

The town had celebrated for two straight days, and Raina’s cottage was filled to the rafters with cakes and breads and baskets of vegetables. I didn’t have the heart to remind people that soon I’d be leaving Norvale for good. Lyric assured me she’d distribute the goodies after I left.