“No, it won’t.”

***

Most of the boats waited near the shore, hoping Robb would come to them, waiting for him to pass so they could follow. Other boats swept up and down the water line, looking for him. None had seen him lead Alden north, darting from ruin to ruin, across the bone beach to the deep inlet.

Robb had warned me to stay at the hotel. I watched from the roof, from the center of a cloud of birds angry that I hadn’t brought fish. I twisted my hair till the ends broke off in my fists.

I waited till they appeared on the far side of the mud flats before I followed.

Robb had no need of a boat, not in the calm black water that followed the storm. He used the same inflatable raft we’d used to sneak onto his boat. The water didn’t ripple under their paddles.

They moved toward the spot where the grey flag had been as I crept across the round stones. I watched as Alden slipped a snorkel over his face. Not even a tank. He was still shaking his head, still reluctant. But Robb held out something shiny in his hand. Alden froze.

The gold? A gun? It didn’t seem to matter which. Alden slid his legs over the rounded side of the raft. His withered feet dipped into the dark water and his back arched. He dropped into the sea.

The water rippled away from him, the circles widening, growing—till they were a ring of waves cresting back toward open water and shooting up onto the beach, tossing limp tilapia at my feet. I danced away as the water chased me and sheltered in a mound of yucca and cactus at the base of the hill. Over and over, each ring curled into another wave, like a wild tide climbing the shore as if to make the resort waterfront property again.

Robb steered the raft over the unnatural swells, surfing their crests back toward the beach. A wave slid the raft over the sand and deposited it on a pile of drying fish.

There was no sign of Alden.

Robb climbed from the raft and pulled me from my hiding spot, leading me back across the beach toward the resort as tendrils of water spilled across the mud behind us.

“We need to go back for him, Robb.” I pulled against his grasp, wanting to turn around. “He’ll drown in that tide. Christ, you didn’t even give him a tank.”

“Would have been a waste of a tank. The thing is done.”

“What are you talking about?”

“They have the gold back. Their treasure is returned and they’ve caught their thief. The curse is broken.”

“There’s no goddam curse! We need to get him out of the water—he can’t swim—”