With some reluctance, I am convinced that the only way forward with my work is to hire scribes. Left to my own devices, I am no longer able to produce suitable results for printing. Of course, I miss sitting down to write—a rare time I get to be in the midst of my own company—but I no longer possess the ability to do it myself.

  Rain fell in heavy bursts that battered against the tin roofs of Bonpoi. It was not long before water was leaking through the ceiling of Remy’s boathouse, so Maria had made the decision to relocate them to someplace drier.

  Remy was disconsolate from the floating residential area to the town proper. Fishermen hastily hauled boats and tied gigantic, heavy ropes around their possessions. Barrels threatened to roll into the lakes with their loads of fish and clams. Only the massive yet frayed ropes attaching them to posts along the docks prevented this. Another sheet of rain covered the town with a screech-like sound, thrown in their path like the wind was being selective in its onslaught. Maria shielded herself with her cloak but the dagger-like water drenched through her relentlessly.

  Of all the places you could be amidst a storm of such magnitude, Bonpoi was probably one of the worst. Fishermen ran with no shirts, and little but waistcloths. Hair drenched and heavy, their shouts were barely audible over the howling wind.

  “This is not the way,” growled Remy, his head whipping to the side every now and then to follow another dockworker or fisherman. “Woman! Listen to me!”

  Through the haze of rain, Maria saw boats on the lake sailing back towards shore. Men on the docks lit torches, yet their successes were temporary. As the clouds grew darker overhead, although it was hardly midday, it was almost the appearance of nightfall.

  Maria and Remy waited underneath a fish market tarp, which sagged in the middle where rainwater had gathered. She took the moment of respite to throw her hair out of her eyes, and with her long cloak sleeve, wipe dry her face.

  “What is with your endless carry-on?” she spat.

  “It is due to your insolence!” Remy returned. He was staring across the lake, his eyes red from the rainwater. His long wolf-like hair, despite the torrential rain, remained brutal and dishevelled from Josephine’s curse. “The beast follows the storm. We’re out of time.”

  “Oh, you must be pulling my leg! What beast?”

  “The one that nearly dragged me in!” Remy yelled, like a madman. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to yell at you. It is just...” He seemed at a loss for words, his jaw working. “I must sail out there, with the other men! Please let me do that. If I don’t—”

  “I didn’t come all this way for you to die pretending to be a hero,” Maria retorted, and grabbed Remy by the arm as if to stop him from making a quick escape, like a bird that has gotten trapped inside your house. “You’re staying with me where it’s safe.”

  “You do not understand. There is a beast in these waters. It will soon be upon us. I am Remy of Bonpoi! I must lead them!” He gestured around the docks, shrugging out of her grip into the rain. His body was immediately drenched. Looking back at her with squinted eyes, water droplets speckling his beard like crystals, he said, “If you attempt to stand between myself and my destiny, woman, then I swear that I will overcome you.”

  Maria stared at Remy, unsure of how to respond. “This is madness.”

  Remy’s eyes darkened, his face pleading with her. There was a sense of great seriousness in the way he looked. He gestured with his hand for her to follow him.

  “If you help, then I will help you,” he said.

  Imbecile, Maria thought, screwing up her face, embattled. The man would not have it any other way. Maria watched the dockworkers, scrambling. She felt the weight of the town surrounding her; or rather, the lack thereof. How the thin tarps blew in the wind, just about to be torn clean from their nails. How the boards of the docks creaked in the increasing winds. She thought, then, that a town like Bonpoi would not likely withstand a storm any greater than this, let alone a beast come from the sea.

  She did not say anything, just exhaled sharply, drew up her cloak over her head, and walked out of the fish market into the rain with Remy.

  #

  Remy walked alongside the docks, aware of the witch’s presence behind him. His skin was sore from the unusual cold, his hands clenched.

  Thunder clouds swam, occasionally crackling with electricity. He still felt a tingling in his skin from when the other witch girl had electrified him; it was that, or the adrenaline.

  “Remy!” Max shouted. He was carting a wagon full of spear guns towards the harboured boats, rainwater slick against his tattooed arms. Upon seeing him, Max’s eyes widened. “Why do you look like that? Are you unwell or something?”

  “I’ll tell you later. What do we need?”

  Max glanced at the witch. “Who is she?”

  “Don’t worry about that. She is a witch—yes, I know it sounds crazy. She’s not here because of the monster under the lake, but she can help us. Okay?”

  Max regarded her with suspicion, but did not complain. “Whatever, I trust you,” he said. “There is a problem, though. We do not have enough bait to lure it in.”

  “No, Max,” Remy said. “We are the bait!”

  Max snarled, his large mouth becoming a hungry grin. “Aha, that is a crazy idea but I love it.” Remy did not share his mirth, exactly, but felt similarly inspired against the monster.

  Remy gripped Max’s shoulder, yelling for him to make sure the bombs were prepared and that every man had a speargun to use against the beast. He then watched as Max left, running as fast as he could with the wagon.

  Remy had taken up position near a couple of boats that were ready to be sent off. He drew a deep breath, sensing a stillness in the air. It seemed, in this moment, that even the storm had silenced. The rains, frozen mid-air. He worked his fingertips against the wet, wooden speargun. It was the only movement he allowed himself. Waiting. Watching across the lake.

  “Woman!” Remy said.

  “Firstly, it’s Maria. Second, call me that again and I will toss you in with the monster you seem to love so much.”

  Remy swallowed, and judging by the look on her face, he didn’t doubt that she may indeed follow on her word. “Maria it is, then.”

  “You’d be a fool to go out there.”

  “The beast will destroy Bonpoi, as it was said by the Waveseer,” Remy said. “Tell me, Maria, will you protect this town? Can you not do something?”

  Maria regarded him with suspicion. “Waveseer?”

  Remy blew a breath, becoming frustrated. The waters in the lake were stirring. Somebody shouted as a boat was released onto the surface, oars drawn. Remy’s legs surged with anticipation. Soon. He checked the witch, her grey cloak and robes, her hand concealed within it. He knew that witches had wands, and little glass spheres which contained concoctions that they used to perform spells. He was not interested in these things, but it was true that his work with Ardouin provided something of a lesson on it.

  “Please,” Remy said. “Remain here, and should the beast break through, prevent it from reaching the town through any means possible! Yes? You hear me?”

  Maria was preoccupied, her face disturbed. “Remy, when that other witch came through before us, you did not do anything to upset her, did you?”

  “Huh? What are you on about?”

  “When exactly did you first encounter this so-called beast?”

  “I mean, it was...” His stomach dropped. The shine in Maria’s eye told the tale. “You don’t mean that she...she did this!” He stomped his boot in a puddle. “Bloody witches!”

  “I won’t take that personally,” Maria said.

  Remy rubbed his forehead vigorously, grumbling underneath his breath. He could have sworn he had not done much to anger that other witch, certainly not enough for her to summon a damned beast to Bonpoi! But...he did have a bad memory at times. “Well, can’t you tell it to go away then? You are a witch, too, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, perhaps I will add that if it is so kind, to sing us a song also?”

  “You’re jesting?”

  Maria actually smiled. “I hear you. I won’t let it reach the town, if you will gladly answer all of my questions once we are able to finally sit down.”

  This was good enough for Remy. He nodded, and stared out across the lake. A silence stretched over the town of Bonpoi, punctuated by rolls of thunder. Remy did not take his eyes from the lake, eventually approaching the water’s edge and peering down at the boats buoyed to the docking posts. They waited for what felt like hours. Remy, too drenched in the rain for it to any longer concern him.

  This brief moment of calm caused him to think about what Maria had said when she arrived at his house, of Ardouin, and Bellvoir. Remy’s chest burned. No! I have to focus on this now. He shook his head to get it out. Ardouin...The letters...Lucien...

  Suddenly, the lake erupted. Remy gasped, stumbling backwards as a massive wall of water upended into the sky. Debris scattered before him. Seaweed tossed all over the streets and boardwalks. Ropes snapped. Boats flew, with puffs of dead fish that splattered everywhere.

  Remy dashed forward. “It is the beast, returned!” he shouted into the storm.

  Blades slashing through ropes, the boatmen released the remaining boats into the water, bobbing and ready.

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  “Bombs! Bombs!” Remy yelled. Then, he turned to Maria, whose face was white and tense. “You must not let the beast reach the town! You hear me?”

  “I’m sorry about this,” Maria said.

  “Be sorry after,” Remy said. He walked away from her, heading to the boats. The first of these had just left, two boatmen paddling and two more with spears that glinted magically in the lights. They sailed out from the town towards the beckoning lakes that stretched yonder.

  Remy looked back at Maria. She reached into her cloak and took hold of a wand, pulling it from its clasp into the windy, rain-washed air.

  A nasty grin spread across Remy’s face. “Yes!” he yelled.

  On cue, the lake erupted with magma-like sprays and the beast revealed itself at last. Water splashed with such intensity it enveloped Remy where he was standing, and caused the boats already on the lake to spin out of control, smashing against the docks.

  “No!” Remy shrieked.

  A song-like howl filled the air and the beast landed on the water’s surface. It was large and spindly, with tendrilous arms that whipped out at random. It had no visible orifices for sight, but a large yellow light emanating from just underneath the surface where it was. Battle cries accompanied the first pop of a speargun from one of the boats. The long spear sailed forward, lodging into the monster’s side and rapidly reeling the boat towards it.

  Remy sprinted for the nearest boat on the water. He leapt into it, his boots slamming into the wood. The boat careened forward from the force of his landing. After quickly composing himself, he stood up and aimed his speargun.

  “I’m firing, step back!” Remy screamed. He launched, his spear whooshing through the air and latching in the beast’s side. This distracted it just long enough for the other boatsmen to sever the line and keep their boat barely out of tentacle’s length of the mighty sea beast.

  “God Almighty!” Remy shouted, cutting the rope of his spear.

  Boats splashed into the water around him. In a nearby boat, Remy saw one of the sailors unload a barrel of bombs. They dropped one into a cannon.

  Bang! With a flash, the massive boulder catapulted through the air at the beast, smashing its slimy side and erupting instantly into hot plumes of fire.

  They whooped and screamed in victory.

  None saw the tentacle until it was too late. Ripping through the surface, it flung one of the boats as if it were a toy. Remy saw but a glimpse of the men before they were gone under the dark lake.

  Another bomb struck true, and the beast dived underneath.

  “It’s gone!” somebody yelled.

  “It will be back!” Remy shouted, wiping water from his eyes. He turned as a boat roared up beside his own. Max was aboard with a barrel of bombs.

  “Our igniter is destroyed from the rain!” Max said.

  Remy checked in his pockets for something. Thankfully, he found one, revealing it for Max and the other boatman, Félix, to see.

  “Chuck it to me!” Max yelled.

  “You are not a good catch!” Remy shouted.

  “Eh! You have no belief in me?”

  Remy threw the lighter between their boats, Max fumbling it. Luckily, it landed inside the boat. He picked it up and held it aloft, smiling like a crazy person.

  “Ha!” Max laughed.

  Remy could not resist but to smile. His boat suddenly swayed, and he spread his legs to keep balanced. The water swirled and shook with the hidden movements of that beast. What a sick monster, Remy thought. It might have fled underwater for now, but the sight would not soon leave Remy’s mind. It was by far the most unnerving thing he had seen in Bonpoi, and he had also once seen a great infection entrenched in Max’s hairy ass.

  Rain plummeted. Remy threw back his hair so it scaled backwards down his scalp. His speargun aloft, he scanned the shimmering lake, grey and dark in the storm light.

  Where have you gone to?

  Suddenly, one of the boats in the distance vanished under the water. Remy shuddered, lifting his gun in the air. Across from him, he heard Max shout above the rain. The cannon on their boat squealed as the boatman aimed it at their hidden enemy.

  We are not dying tonight, Remy thought, more a hope than a fact. He had never come so close to facing his own mortality. A life spent in little Bonpoi did not invite such things as impending doom. Not before the beast. He was taken to that first time he encountered it—almost pulled it in while fishing. What a shock that had been.

  So, a witch had brought it here. Remy swore that if he ever saw her again, he’d show her what happens when you mess with a fisherman of Bonpoi.

  He suddenly thought of Maria.

  What does she know about Ardouin?

  Why was he thinking about this right now?

  The water opened like a mouth and another boat was sucked into the ocean depths. Remy spun to look in its direction. Max complained as he realigned his cannon.

  Ardouin is not still alive, surely.

  Stray thoughts. He had to focus!

  “It’s back!” somebody screamed. With the shattering of the lake’s surface, the monstrous body emerged yet again, tentacles flapping about as if searching for islands in the sky to attach itself to. It was utterly sickening, like a strange organism or parasite looking for hosts—but nothing on this planet could suffice for such a size.

  “Hit it!” Remy screamed, letting loose a spear. Simultaneous cracks of spearguns popped through the air like fireworks. Tiny rope threads trailed them as they flew true.

  Several bombs exploded at once, lighting the beast in yellow magma light. Its tentacles whipped out in multitudinous directions.

  Waves exploded. Boats flew. Bodies and wood erupted and sank into the lakes. Bombs blew, throwing body parts. Remy was toppled by the shockwave coming off the lake’s frothy white surface, stumbling to the edge of the boat. His gun fell overboard.

  “No, my gun!” Remy spat.

  The beast surged. Violent seawater collided with Remy and he barely held on. The clouds ripped apart with lightning. A cannonball exploded, followed by a rush of wind and a scream, and two boats upended simultaneously in a bloom of fire and smoke.

  As if sensing the crew’s disorientation, the beast let out a great screech and charged with awesome speed through the water, carving it in two.

  Remy scrambled back up, but could only watch as this happened. Several boats caught in the beast’s path were obliterated, their pieces exploding in the air like an angry gambler throwing cards. His eyes widened as the beast struck the docks and leapt at Bonpoi, striking with its tentacles. “No!” Remy screamed.

  As the beast lunged ashore, it was suddenly repelled as if by a deflective wall, and bounced straight off, skipping the docks and crashing back into the waters from whence it came. Lightning cracked, illuminating the figure of Maria, standing where the beast had been.

  “What the hell is that!” Max screamed.

  Remy looked from the sinking beast to Max, who was pointing at Maria, his boat taking in water. Thunder shook the air, as all but bubbles remained of the beast. Remy smiled at his friend. “I knew that would happen. I wasn’t scared for a second!”

  “That is why you screamed like a little girl?”

  They burst out into raucous laughter.

  “Victory!” one of the other boatmen screamed.

  Taken with exhaustion, Remy sat down, continuing to watch the place where the beast had sunk. He could still see Maria, her cloak tassels blowing in the ever-increasing winds.

  #

  Tongues of fire still burned on the lake when the boatsmen returned to the town. Maria admitted she had not seen such a display of power in a long time.

  At the battle’s end, she returned her wand into her cloak and took out the sphere she had used, checking inside it. The plants were withered, rot had taken the fruits. She opened it up and emptied it on the ground, where the wind immediately swept it away.

  The Bonpoi folk spent the remainder of the day cleaning. Still, Maria could not deny that they were ever-watchful of the lake and the possibility that the beast might return again.

  By nightfall, the storm had reduced to a drizzle. Large firepits were lit, sending warmth and light through the fishing town of Bonpoi. Maria observed the devastated shoreline. Bits of houses and boats floated atop the water’s surface. Bridges had collapsed, boardwalks destroyed. It was a difficult sight. Eventually, she and Remy returned to the inn.

  Water drenched the floors, and everywhere you walked, your feet were splashing in it. Yet there was laughter to be found here, and celebrations, as drinks and food flowed.

  Maria sat by herself much of the night, only managing to steal away Remy when he had seemingly had enough of the celebrations. When he eventually sat down with her, his face red from drinking too much, Maria was ready to retire for the night. Remy stared at her. His hair was still somewhat static, no matter his attempts to flatten it back down.

  It did not take long for him to sober.

  “My apologies. I was caught up in the fervour.”

  Maria simply waved a hand, hoping to move on with the conversation quickly. She withdrew her brother’s ledger from her cloak, now slightly wet, and slid it across the table to Remy. He took the ledger and opened it cautiously.

  “That is Edgar Lucien’s ledger,” Maria said as Remy looked through it without speaking. “He was my brother. Did you know him?”

  Remy seemed to become stuck on one of the pages, a small gasp leaving his lips. He grabbed at his jaw, moving his fingers to his mouth, as he continued to read. “Yes,” he whispered, caressing the pages with his hand. “Oh, Jacques, you naughty man.”

  “Excuse me?” Maria asked.

  “Oh.” Remy turned the book towards her, his fingers tapping on the initials. “J. A. is Jacques Ardouin,” said Remy. “He was your brother’s scribe.” He attempted to pat down his hair again, which was sticking up despite the weight of the rainwater stuck in it. Maria carefully closed the book for him and moved it to the side. “That is how you found me? Through him?”

  “Yes, your details are in the book.”

  Remy sighed. “I hope you believe me when I say this, but I truthfully don’t know where all the documents ended up. I am not as organised as Jacques. I do not keep records dating back ten years. As soon as we were finished, I had discarded everything, and truthfully, until just recently I never had cause to think about any of it.”

  “So you were working with him,” Maria said.

  “Jacques took as much as he could when the house burned down. He sent the documents to me, in Bonpoi. We have good access to river networks from here. Honestly, it was good business for a while. Do I regret it? Yes, of course. I wish it had never happened. I wish Ardouin had never come into my life!”

  Remy slammed his fist against the tabletop, his face red. “I do not wish to discuss the man any further. He is a ghost to me now, so let it remain that way. Honestly, I do not even wish to know whether or not he is alive. It will only make things worse.”

  Maria cursed under her breath. She didn’t think he was lying. Remy didn’t have any records of where he had sold the manuscripts to. It was a dead end.

  “I’m sorry,” Remy muttered. “It’s just that Jacques Ardouin has caused me a lot of pain over the years. I’m the fool for not being able to let it go.”

  Maria sensed great sadness in Remy, but she felt that she could not broach the topic of it. She wondered what the men were to each other, and then, she became more intrigued in who this Jacques Ardouin was. For he was at least significant to Remy. Yet, he had done irreparable damage to Maria and the cabaret—terrible, terrible damage. She supposed Remy had assisted in this, but she felt that Ardouin was the brains behind it. Remy was just doing what he was told.

  “I know that there were chapters about witchcraft, all that stuff,” Maria said. “But was there anything else? My brother wrote a lot in his time. What about journals? Diary entries?” Even as she said these things, she was sick in anticipation of hearing the answer.

  Remy even had the nerve to chuckle slightly. “Now that you mention it, I thought there was something familiar about you.”

  “Huh?”

  “There were journals. You know, your brother was a very interesting man, Maria. In fact, your whole family was. Jacques and I were so very invested in his tales. It’s just been so long since I’ve thought about it.” Suddenly, his expression changed, his cheeks going deep scarlet, like he remembered something Maria bet she did not want to hear.

  “I’m glad you were able to bond over my tragic family,” Maria said.

  “I take it that is probably not what you wanted to hear. We were young and gossipy. We didn’t mean any harm by it.”

  “Did you sell any of these to Vincenzo Molteni or anybody else from the Molteni family?”

  Remy threw his hands. “I honestly don’t remember.”

  Maria hated to admit this, but she believed him.

  Thunder shook the building. Remy took his drink and downed some, before returning it to the table. White froth coloured his scraggly facial hair, and he wiped it off with the back of his wrist.

  “If you had to guess, where is Jacques Ardouin now?” Maria asked.

  “You tell me. I haven’t heard from him in years.” His eyes developed a distant look. “You see, Maria, Jacques is a difficult man to understand. I, for one, have never understood the reasons why he does certain things.” A smile spread across his lips, but only fleetingly, like unsuccessfully trying to start a fire. “He didn’t know what he was doing when he entered into this. After the fire, he had no work, no place, really, to go. It was just to make money. But, my friend Jacques, he was not the smartest man.”

  “Evidently,” Maria said.

  “I’m sorry if this was a waste of your time, but I am tired, and I intend to retire back to my house if you would have the decency to allow me. Anything else you need to know?”

  “There might be a hearing,” Maria said. “He might be called to speak.”

  “Give him my regards,” said Remy. “That is, if you find him.” Remy stood up, his seat toppling behind him. He swayed on the spot, giving a soft moan of drunkenness. “Actually,” Remy said, pointing at her, “you remind me of him.”

  Maria raised a brow.

  “Head always in the past.” And then he walked off.

  Maria almost called out to him before he was gone entirely, though not necessarily because she knew what she wanted to say. Instead, she continued to sit, her fingertips drumming against the covers of the book. The most empty feeling passed through her. The feeling that this entire journey had been a waste, a failure—and Maria despised such things. Yet, most of all, sitting with nothing but her brother’s ledger, she felt very far away from everything.

  A sense of homesickness struck her, like she had not felt in a long time.