Salamaine's Curse (2 page)

When they heard about the donation, Tom and his friends had spent weeks convincing themselves Lost would finally give in and buy them Xboxes for the common rooms.

Instead they got Fred.

Tom's eyes narrowed in on the beanie. A pirate's hat and a few other things would definitely make Fred more interesting … and Lost more furious.

His friends reached the beach. Or rather, what passed for a beach—a broad expanse of packed dirt that stretched half the length of a football field, then sloped gently downward until it dipped into the edge of the water. The lake was quiet. Nothing but shimmering moonlight reflected on the surface, coupled with the gentle lapping of water against the shore.

Their plan was simple. Two boats tied together with rope, one for Tom, one for Fred. Tom would row the lead boat to the center of the lake and cut Fred loose. All he had to do after that was row back to the beach and rejoin his friends, leaving Fred adrift. The look on Lost's face when he discovered his beloved Fred had turned pirate and taken a midnight sail … now
that
was something he couldn't wait to see.

The group split up. Two guys ran to the boathouse to borrow a couple of old wooden rowboats (proof that at some point in its history students of the academy had been allowed to enjoy the lake, despite Lost declaring it Officially Off Limits).

The remaining boys untied Fred. Fortunately for them he wasn't as heavy as he looked. Fred was as hollow as a cheap chocolate Easter bunny. They managed to lower him to the ground without shattering him into pieces or splitting off an arm.

Now the only thing left to do was to prepare Fred for launch. It didn't take much, just a few items borrowed from the theater department. A skull-and-crossbones hat slapped over his beanie, a toy parrot stuck on his shoulder, a rusty old cutlass duct taped to his wrist, and the transformation from chubby student to chubby pirate was complete.

“You sure this is a good idea?” asked Matt Copley, Tom's best friend. Matt was both more cautious and smarter than Tom—or maybe being smarter made him more cautious. In any case, he looked worried.

Tom studied Fred, all decked out in his pirate finery, and smiled. “Absolutely.”

“What if he sinks the boat?”

Good point.

“He won't.”

They tested him out in the shallows, just in case, and got lucky. Fred's pose—his feet spread wide apart as though caught in mid-stride, just so
eager
to rush back and study—absorbed his weight and gave him greater stability. The boat rocked, but settled nicely in the water.

“Look, he's smiling! He likes it.”

“Yeah, he's a natural,” Tom deadpanned.

Matt gave a shaky smile. “Lost'll kill you if he finds out you were behind this. You're already on his list.”

True.

But as Matt pointed out, Tom had already made Lost's infamous demerit list. Looking at it that way, he had very little to lose. Besides, hadn't Lost himself said the funds were to be used for the students' enjoyment? At least this they would enjoy.

A couple of guys held Fred's boat steady, while a few more held Tom's boat as he climbed aboard to keep it from rocking. He grabbed the oars and glanced at the distance he needed to cover. Ten minutes max and he'd be back ashore. Ten minutes after that and they'd all be in their dorm rooms, sound asleep, with nothing to do but wait for the morning bell.

He settled himself with his back to the lake and slipped the oars into the water. But the moment the oars broke the surface something caught his ear.

“Quiet!” he hissed, motioning for his friends to keep their voices down. He tilted his head toward the water. “Did you hear that?”

“Yeah,” replied one of the guys on shore. “It's the wind.”

Tom shot a glance at the surrounding woods. Sure enough, the wind was picking up. A steady breeze rustled through the leaves. But what he'd heard hadn't come from the direction of the trees. It sounded as though it had come from deep within the water itself. He glanced over his shoulder at the lake. Studied its picture-perfect, mirror-like surface.

Matt frowned. “You all right, Tom?”

“Yeah. I'm fine.”

He hesitated, then tested the water with his hand. Freezing cold. So cold it stung. But that wasn't the worst of it. The moment the oar dipped beneath the surface of the water, the lake seemed to shimmer with menace, rolling and rippling like waves in a funhouse mirror.

He scanned the lake but could find nothing wrong. Whatever had spooked him was gone. Probably just a trick of the moonlight, he decided. He flexed his fingers and clenched his fist to bring warmth back to his hand.

“You sure you don't want me to come with you?” Matt pressed.

Tom considered the offer. Actually, who he wanted with him was his brother, Porter. Ridiculous. Tom knew that better than anybody. In the first place, he hadn't heard from Porter in months. Secondly, even if Porter was there, most likely he'd just tell Tom he was acting like an idiot, that the entire stunt was juvenile, and that he had better things to do with his time.

Tom shook his head. “Nah, I got it. I'll be right back.”

Another breeze, stronger this time, blew across the lake. Dark clouds raced across the moon. The air felt heavy, tinged with an electric charge. A storm was heading their way. It hadn't been there a minute ago, but there was no mistaking that the weather was turning. Tom's excitement faded, replaced by a sudden urgency to dump Fred as quickly as possible and get back to his dorm.

His friends gave the boats a gentle shove, and he and Fred cast off. Tom took up the oars and rowed toward the center of the lake, careful to keep his strokes slow and steady so as not to topple Fred. Shouts and laughter echoed around him, filling the night air. Getting back into the spirit of the adventure, Tom smiled and relaxed a bit, easing his way forward.

The wind steadily picked up. It was stronger now, strong enough to ripple the water and blow hundreds of miniature white-capped waves across the surface of the lake. Tom dug the oars in, only to discover he didn't need them. Rowing was no longer necessary. The moment he left the shallows he was caught in a current that rushed them toward the center of the lake.

They were moving fast, much faster than his strokes could have possibly carried them. He glanced at Fred, who bobbed along behind him with his fake grin plastered on his fake face, the breeze ruffling the feathers on his toy parrot, looking as though he was having the time of his life.

Alarm surged through Tom. He had heard of riptides in the ocean, but was it possible for there to be riptides in a lake? He didn't know. He fought against the current, dragging the oars in the water to create resistance, but the force carrying them was too strong to break.

The current stopped, depositing them in the icy heart of the lake. Tom's boat gently rocked, the water softly lapping against the hull. Eerie stillness settled over him. A thick cloud hung across the moon. Like a velvet curtain shut, all light was gone. He peered into the darkness but couldn't make out anything.

Then he heard it. The sound he'd heard before he'd left shore. The sound he'd allowed himself to believe was only the wind rustling through the trees. This time there was no mistaking it. There was no pretending it was anything other than what it was: a low, menacing growl that ended in a long, drawn-out hiss. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as the noise cut through the night air.

Forks of lightening flashed in the distance as a peal of thunder cracked overhead.

Tom felt his thoughts, senses, and intuition finally click in the proper order. Horrified understanding swept through him. A violent storm was blowing in. The door between worlds was opening—which meant the evil that existed in Porter's world could come through to his.

Had
come through to his.

A gust of wind parted the clouds, allowing him a glimmer of moonlight to shine across the surface of the lake. His sight abruptly returned. Tom looked down.

His gaze locked on a shadow lurking just beneath the surface of the water. A pair of menacing red eyes peered up at him.

Tom's heart slammed against the wall of his chest, then began beating at triple its normal rate. He tore his eyes away from the creature's scorching gaze long enough to size up the rest of the thing.

Some sort of serpent, he guessed. Long and thick, it slithered through the water, curling around the edges of his boat like an enormous snake. The serpent's mottled skin—black and gray and pea green—rippled as it moved, evidence of the bulky muscles that propelled it. There was no sleek beauty about it. No fairy-tale suggestion of a poor lost creature searching for its way home. This was a monster, pure and simple.

A monster that was now glaring at him … hungrily.

F
rozen in horror, Tom watched as the serpent slowly heaved its upper torso from the water. Assuming a cobra-like position, it swayed back and forth, its radar-like focus locked on him. In that instant, Tom's world narrowed. His entire attention shrank to two basic elements: the serpent and the lake. His rowboat, which until that moment he'd considered sturdy and solid, now seemed a puny, insignificant defense.

He needed a weapon. Fast.

He cast a panicked glance around the boat's interior. Nothing. Nothing but the wooden oars balanced on his lap. Nothing but Fred drifting along behind him, decked out in a ridiculous pirate hat, with a toy parrot riding on his shoulder and a metal cutlass duct-taped to his wrist.

The cutlass. It was old and it was rusty, but it was a sword. If he could just get to Fred's boat without losing his balance and tipping himself overboard …

His gaze locked on the serpent, Tom carefully rose to his feet. His boat rocked. Fred swayed. Tom looked at the sword. The serpent, as though guessing his intent, let out a long, angry hiss.

The water surrounding the creature began to froth and foam. The serpent twisted its body into a compact coil, collapsing in on itself, gathering energy like a tightly wound spring. It snapped the tip of its tail into the air and shook it, producing a sharp, vibrating clatter similar to a rattlesnake's.

That was the only warning Tom had.