Salamaine's Curse Read Free

tail shot out of the water and slammed against the boat. Wood splintered and cracked, flying everywhere, leaving a hole in the side of the boat the size of an enormous shark bite. Icy water poured in, drenching Tom’s feet and ankles.
    It was only a matter of minutes—maybe seconds—until his boat would sink. Left with no other option, Tom sprang into Fred’s boat. The vessel rocked heavily toward the bow. He shifted to the stern, but the boat still wouldn’t stabilize. It took him a second to realize why. Their boats remained securely tied together. As the lead boat continued to take on water, it was pulling Fred’s boat down with it.
    Tom lunged for the rope and fumbled with the knot, frantically tugging until it slipped loose. He set his boat free and watched it flounder, then sink beneath the murky water with an audible
glub, glub, glub.
    The serpent thrashed about in a state of frenzied excitement, as though searching for Tom in the boat’s watery remains.
    The cutlass. Now was his chance. Tom spun toward Fred and tugged at the duct tape that fixed the sword to his palm. He’d nearly worked it free when the sound of the serpent’s rattle rang in his ear. Tom froze. His gaze shot to the lake. The creature’s glowing red eyes watched him. Then, before he could react, it lifted its tail from the water and drew the hard, rattlelike tip down his cheek in a slow caress. Tom’s blood went cold.
    The serpent lunged. Tom, gripping the cutlass, twisted sideways and dove for the bottom of the boat. Having missed Tom, the serpent coiled its enormous tail around Fred, lifted the statue, and slammed it into the dark, frigid depths of the lake.
    Seconds passed.
    The creature coughed up a spray of feathers and whacked its tail against the water, leaving Tom with the distinct impression that it was
his head
the monster had hoped to devour, not Fred’s toy parrot. And it was definitely not pleased with the substitution.
    The serpent shot out of the water and lunged again. Its fiery eyes blazed, its fangs glistened. Tom ducked and swung his cutlass, aiming for thecreature’s throat.
    He missed.

    Instead of hitting the serpent’s neck, his rusty blade sliced through the creature’s tail, severing the rattle tip from the rest of its body. The serpent gave a shrill, high-pitched whine and arched out of the water, thrashing madly. Then gravity took hold of it. The full weight of its body collapsed on top of the boat, smashing it into a thousand pieces and pitching Tom into the lake.

    Cold. Icy cold. The shock of it stabbed his skin like thousands of sharp, stinging needles driven into his body at once. His muscles locked in a spasm of protest, but fortunately he didn’t need to swim. His life vest returned him to the surface. Gasping, Tom drew in a lungful of air. He brought up the cutlass and peered into the darkness, readying himself for the serpent’s next attack.
    But the water was eerily quiet. The creature was gone— at least for the moment. The only sign that the serpent had been there at all was the rattle tip of its amputated tail, which glowed a deep pinkish-orange as it bobbed in the water in front of him. Tom stared at it, totally transfixed. The rattle was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. It looked like some rare jewel that had come to life before his very eyes. Unable to stop himself, he reached for it.
    A splash sounded behind him. Tom whirled around, his heart beating wildly.
    Fred. The statue popped to the surface. Apparently his hollow build gave him enough buoyancy to float. Fred stared at the sky with an expression of mild surprise on his face, as though he hadn’t expected to find himself in a lake at midnight, victim of a sea serpent attack.
    Tom knew exactly how he felt.
    Icy cold seeped into his body. He could feel his limbs tingling, his fingers and toes going numb. He had to get out of the frigid water fast or he wouldn’t be