“Call them. Call them to you.” Emily said to me, making me jump even though I had known her to be there. “I want the whole dear family here for this event.” I considered a quick slide. Go out. Grab Adam. Get anywhere the hell away from here. Emily floated over to face me. “Don’t even consider it, darling. I’ll make sure he hits the ground before you can even blink. Now call them.”

“Do as your mother tells you. Call them, sister. Call your aunts. Call the ape’s lover.”

“You are mighty brave when you are hiding behind her skirt,” I said, my anger overtaking my fear. “You’d better hope I never catch you out alone. I will rip your big bad wolf costume right off you.”

He took a step toward me, straining so that his muscles would pop. “I am much more adept at using magic than you are.”

“I ain’t talking about using magic, little brother.”

“Enough, children,” Emily said. Josef’s taut muscles were still twitching even as he took a step closer to Emily. She ran her fingers through his hair and then trailed them down his naked back. “Shhh . . .” She soothed him and then turned toward the sea and leaned against the metal railing. She whistled three discordant notes, then repeated the sequence twice.

From out near the horizon, where by now I knew the sun should soon rise, a furious shrieking came in response to her call. The awakening sky lost all light, fading to a deep purple, the shade of Adam’s bruised skin, and then any hope of color was lost, repelled by storm clouds that had arisen from nowhere.

“A few simple sounds,” Emily said. “And not much power at all. Just enough to encourage nature to do what it already wanted to do anyway. The water was already so warm, aching for a touch to arouse it. So easy to start, so hard to end.” The winds began to whip up whitecaps. “What do you think, Josef?”

“At this rate, it will only make it to a category four by the time it hits Savannah,” he said, jutting out his head over the railing to assess the growing storm. “I want a five.”

“And so you shall have it,” she said. She whistled again, and this time the notes came more quickly, sounding shriller. She kept it up until I thought my eardrums would burst, but then the sound mercifully stopped.

“It’s building on its own now,” Emily said. “Remember, I tried to avoid this, but you left me with no choice.”

“A hurricane with no warning. No time for alerts. No evacuation,” Joe said. “The destruction will be spectacular.”

The clouds continued to thicken and blacken, and the first flash of lightening shocked the sky. “You have to stop this.”

“Oh, no, my daughter. If you want this stopped, you will have to be the one to stop it.” She smiled at me. “I know that you can . . . that is, if you are allowed.”

“What do you mean if I am allowed?”

“Ask the Duvals. They could have turned Katrina away from New Orleans, directing it to a less populated area. Or they could have used their magic to help the levees hold. But the anchors wouldn’t allow your cousins to save their home, just as they will not allow you to save yours.”

“That’s ridiculous. The storm was too powerful. If they could have done—”

“Oh, they could have done,” Emily interrupted me. “And they would have done too, but the anchors said that diverting that much power from the line would weaken it. They commanded the Duvals to step down, and they did.”

“Well, I am a Taylor, not a Duval,” I said, and another flash of lightning punctuated my words, the clap of thunder so near it caused the metal catwalk to sing beneath my feet.

“Oh, my dear, I’m counting on that. Now go ahead. Call your family. I want you to do your best to turn this destruction you’ve forced me to call upon Savannah back out to sea. My sisters and brother will give you all the help you need.” She closed her eyes and raised her hands toward the sea. “Now, I’ll give it the slightest nudge.” Her lips moved silently, and the horrible monstrosity on the horizon began to move closer to us, toward her outstretched hands. “My work here is done,” she said and reached out for Joe’s hand.

“Wait. Is it true? Is this just another trick to get me to endanger the line? Will the energy I use weaken it?”

“That’s what the Duvals believed. Tell me, do you?” A flash of lightning enveloped them, and they vanished. The world around me stopped as Adam fell.

THIRTY-EIGHT

I reached out my magic toward Adam, but he slipped from my grasp. His body plummeted, limp, but bending in the wind. If I couldn’t stop his fall, I could at least cushion it. I envisioned the air between him and the ground condensing, slowing his descent. I watched from above as his fall slowed and he was eased onto the ground. From my height, I couldn’t tell if he was still alive. I concentrated on him, and in the next instant, I was kneeling by his side. I felt for a pulse. “Thank you.” I sighed a prayer of thanks to the universe.

The howl of the wind reminded me that Adam wasn’t my only worry. I needed to find my family, and together we needed to find a way to deal with the storm before the winds found their way to land. Not even counting the damage it could do to Savannah, countless innocent lives lay in its path. It would certainly claim Parris Island and Hilton Head, ravaging on until it had destroyed Daufuskie Island. Didn’t Jilo have family there, as well as on Sapelo?

Oliver had closed on his new house yesterday, and today the winds would wipe it from the map. My own house, where Iris and Ellen were probably still sleeping, would be destroyed if I didn’t make it there to wake them. I wrapped my arms around Adam and focused, but I didn’t feel the tingling sensation that usually hit me before I made one of my leaps. Was Savannah too far away? The usual sliding feeling did not come. Rain began to pelt me like grapeshot. Could the storm be interfering? I opened my eyes. “No,” was all I could say. We were still at the base of the lighthouse. We hadn’t moved an inch, but the storm had. I closed my eyes again. Come on. Come on, I screamed in my own mind.

“What in the hell is goin’ on here?” Jilo’s voice spat into my ear. I felt her cold hand reach out and spin me around. She stood there before me on the beach, dressed in a fuchsia polyester nightgown, a yellow scarf tied around her head. I lunged forward and pulled her into my arms.

“Adam,” I heard Oliver say with a gasp, and looked up to see him drawing near too. He ran up to us, bare chested and wearing drawstring pajama bottoms. He took Adam from me and rolled him over, cradling him in his arms. Iris approached from the opposite direction, wearing a housecoat, and Ellen stumbled a few feet behind her, moving groggily.

“You’ve brought us here?” Ellen asked. She had arrived fully dressed, wearing the same outfit she’d had on yesterday. I knew instantly that she hadn’t slept. She had passed out drunk. Perhaps she was still a bit drunk now. Okay, one disaster at a time. That one would have to wait.

“I hadn’t intended to, but . . .” I said and motioned out toward the approaching storm. “Emily,” I said before emotion choked me. I swallowed hard. “It is heading straight for Savannah. Oh my God”—I remembered Adam—“Adam’s been hurt.”

“Let me have him,” Ellen said to Oliver. She had been shocked sober by the sight of the two men. Oliver laid Adam’s head down gently and slid back to give her room. “They’ve been bleeding him,” she mumbled or maybe said. The wind made it hard to hear without screaming. Either way, the rest of her words were lost.