I leaned into the wind, flapping my arms, distorting my body in any way I could until the friction of the wind flipped us over. The sight of the onrushing ocean hit my heart like a baseball bat connecting with a ball for a home run. We only had seconds.

  Miyoko had not said a word since we fell, but her grip let me know that she was petrified.

  “Hold on!” I yelled, realizing as I did so that it's such an instinctual thing to say, yet nothing could be more pointless to advise. A surprising calm filled me, and the magic of the First and Second Gifts took over.

  I put my right arm forward, toward the rising, hungry waters, my hand balled into a fist. There was no point to this really, except that it made me feel a little more like Superman. Sending waves of thought downward, I called upon the Ice and froze a large area of the ocean directly below us, right at the spot where we would soon impact. Mist swirled in a violent tornado and was gone in an instant, leaving a broad patch of Ice. With more thought, I hardened the area, wishing it to be the solidity of steel-enforced concrete. A tight, crackling sound met our ears as the ice compacted, shrinking into a rigid, hard foundation of cold iron.

  Then Miyoko and I, bound together, hit it with the force of a small bomb.

  In the milliseconds of that collision, I guided the power of the Shield with more intensity than I had ever done before. With every line of thought, with every thread of concentration, I directed the Shield in its effort to rebound us away from the harm of the rigid ice. With no time to form actual words or cohesive thoughts, I pictured in my mind the approximate direction of the flying boat and estimated its distance. All the faculties of my will exploded into the Shield, and told it what to do.

  It all happened in less than a second.

  When the protective bubble of the First Gift slammed into the Ice, all common sense said that the blow should have obliterated it, but it held firm, giving ammunition to the power of the Shield, making it possible for it to obey my wishes. The very air took on form. The invisible force of the protective halo surrounding us bent and twisted, a solid but unseen power. Our bodies twisted along with it, my outreached arm and fist turning to the sky, my body and Miyoko's rotating until our feet came within inches of the icy floor.

  There was the briefest of pauses, like the Shield was vying for time, building its strength. The Gift's rebounding force was held in check, fostering its intensity. Then the Shield released the megaton of energy that had formed below us.

  There was no fiery explosion, no streamers of heat and exhaust. There was no sound. But the Shield catapulted us into the air with the might of a thousand rockets. Miyoko screamed as we flew toward the sky, her grip tightening once again. My insides filled with a weird mixture of elation, fear, and motion sickness. I held my arm firm, straight ahead, as if I could really guide my flight.

  But I knew that it was all up to physics now.

  We only had to get close enough for me to shoot a stream of Ice to once again connect us with the yacht. After a few seconds of flight, a worry of doubt entered my mind that we wouldn't even come close. But then the fog of the low clouds parted, and there, directly in our path, the ship appeared.

  It was like the curtain parting on a star-studded night of the Jimmy Fincher Awards Ceremony. The sight of that ship, once again within our reach, filled me with warmth and hope all over again.

  But it was coming up fast, and I didn't have much time to rejoice.

  Our trajectory was taking us to the left of the ship, so that we'd miss it by forty or fifty feet. Then I could see that I was being too optimistic. As the ship grew in our vision like a budding flower, it became clear that we would miss it by a great deal—too far to trust a single shot of Ice to attach us.

  My mind spun in a vicious swirl of thought, assessing the situation. I concentrated on the moisture in the air up ahead of us, forming another chunk of Ice, hovering in the air, placed in a spot where I thought it was needed. We slammed into it a second after its formation, and all my mental efforts went into manipulating the reflective power of the Shield. We rebounded at the slightest of angles, still moving forward but thrown back to the right. We were now on a direct collision course with our boat.

  Wet wind whipped at our faces as we approached the rear of the impossible flying object. One hundred feet became twenty. The ladder on the back sprung clearly into view. We would just miss it.

  As we flew at the ladder, and then watched as it seemed to tilt in an odd angle when the direction of our flight took us past it, I focused on the bottom rung and shot a beam of Ice directly at it, incorporating the same fluidity I had learned in prior jams. The end of the rope hit home, and froze with a solid crackle around the entire area. I put a little slack into the Ice, allowing it to expand at a decelerating pace so our momentum would not rip the entire ladder from the ship.

  Despite my effort, the power of our flight threw too much force into the yacht. Like tugging on a rope tied to a toy boat in the bathtub, we pulled the back of the ship in an arc, until the yacht was flying sideways, yawning dangerously toward our side. A shiver of horror went down my spine as I realized the entire ship could go tumbling end over end, tossing its occupants like a cup of dice and sending my dad from the deck to a very long fall.

  A chorus of screams from the Shadow Ka showed their displeasure at this new development, and they hurried to right the ship and pull the front forward. Their uncanny ability to work in unison was as impressive as it was frightening. The ship was back to normal in a matter of seconds, just as our momentum stopped completely and we swung back toward the rear of the ship.

  As we did so, I had the oddest sensation of floating in water beside the boat, watching as it seemed to rev its engines and move past us. The slack in the icy rope that attached us played out abruptly, and we shot forward, trailing the ship like tandem water skiers.

  Black wings appeared from above. They were coming for their second assault.

  Faster than ever before, with a flash of thought that acted before it was even formed, I shrunk the Ice, slamming us into the ladder. I wasn't going to let them cut the rope a second time. Now that we were on the ladder, I knew I could ignore the Ka and rely on the Shield to protect Miyoko and me.

  I climbed up the ladder, rung by rung, freezing and unfreezing my hands to the cold, lacquered wood as we ascended. One slipped grip could send us tumbling to the ocean all over again.

  Five or six Ka stayed with us, flying at us and bouncing off the Shield one after the other, screeching and clawing and taunting us. An odd thump sounded every time they hit our protective barrier, like stupid, gargantuan pigeons flying into doubled-paned windows. My confidence in the First Gift was insurmountable, but their insane actions still made me quiver, making the climb difficult. I looked down. The dark ocean lay there, a mile below us, white crested waves just visible, like faint static on television. The storm must be picking up, I thought, the winds stirring up the waters.

  Three rungs left. Two. It felt as if Miyoko were gaining weight by the second. My back ached.

  One rung. I pulled us up and over, onto the deck.

  “Don't let go of me!” I yelled to Miyoko. I reached behind me and made sure my hand was squarely on her forearm, and then released the Ice that held her to me. She slumped to the ground with a heavy thump, but I kept a hold on her arm. She reached down with both arms, got her feet beneath her, and stood up.

  “Okay, hold onto my arm now, and don't let go,” I said.

  She placed her hand around my biceps. At any other time I would have been embarrassed at how skinny my arm was, but there was no time for that right then. I swirled an icy vice around her hand, freezing her to me so I wouldn't have to worry about it. Then, I took a deep breath and looked around.

  Getting up there had been the easy part. Well, not easy, but do-able. I had put so much thought and energy into that process that my head was suddenly blank of any ideas of what to do now that we were on the ship again.

  But it only took five seconds for yet another brilliant Jimmy Fincher plan to pop into my head.

  Rusty and I used to watch a show on TV about idiots. To be more specific, it was about idiots who would perform outrageous stunts and catch them on tape, as if they actually wanted to volunteer to the world just how high their level of stupidity could reach.

  One of our favorites had been the one about the weather balloon guy. Weather balloons look like oversized party favors, used to send instruments into the sky in order to measure whatever it is they measure so that meteorologists can take a wild guess on whether or not it will rain. This one particular idiot decided it would be fun to attach a bunch of these helium-filled balloons to himself, until they became strong enough to lift him into the sky like something out of an old roadrunner cartoon. All he needed was a T-shirt that said “ACME” in big red letters.

  His plan worked.

  It worked way beyond his expectations, and soon the United States Air Force was involved, investigating something that was either a UFO or an idiot. It turned out they had found the latter.

  Anyway, they came up with a method to help this guy down out of the sky without making a nasty splat on some-body's driveway, and yelled it out to him on a loudspeaker from a helicopter. (Which kept blowing the guy away with the wind from its rotating blades, giving us many opportunities to laugh uncontrollably on the floor as we watched.)

  They told him to pop the balloons, one at a time, pausing after each one to see how much of a difference that one had made in keeping him in the sky. This gradual popping of the balloons worked. After popping two or three, he began to level off instead of maintaining his path toward space. Then, he popped some more and began to descend. A couple of more pops and he drifted down to the ground at a nice and comfortable speed until he was once again safe on the ground.

  His elation at being alive couldn't be dampened, even as they whisked him away in a police car. I could never have known that the dumb weather balloon guy would come back to inspire me some day.

  It was time to pop some Shadow Ka.

  They were everywhere, attached with their taut chains to the ship, wings flapping like frantic dragons. Their gray skin glistened with sweat from their exertion. I could not imagine it was easy to lift such a huge structure, no matter how many of them there were.

  I knew that it was imperative to be selective in the Ka I picked off with the Ice. If too many in one area were released from the ship, it would tilt and fall to the ocean at a horrible angle. I had to keep the people inside the cabins safe, and prevent my dad from falling off the ship altogether.

  Black rain spattered our faces, angry wind ripped at our clothes, frightful cries of evil filled the air.

  I explained my plan to Miyoko and she looked at me with some hesitation.

  “Trust me,” I said, and then began the assault.

  A Ka was only a few feet from us, attached to a big pipe that jutted from the deck with a railing around it, huge painted bolts dotting its surface. The Ka's chain wrapped around the pipe then up and around its neck. Its legs and arms dangled for balance as its massive wings beat at the misty air. Its ragged clothes hung like tattered laundry, flapping in the wind.

  It was looking at me with black eyes as it flew, knowing it could do nothing.

  With barely a thought, I sent shivers of Ice throughout the Ka's chain, freezing it until it was brittle enough to break. I formed a round ball of Ice from the air, three feet in diameter, and blasted it toward the Ka. The ball connected with the force of a catapulted stone of ancient wars, and the creature's shriek trailed off quickly as it plummeted away from the ship, toward the roiling ocean below.

  The next ten minutes consisted of nothing but ice and screams. Miyoko and I walked the decks, discussing and choosing the Ka that we should blast off the ship. We tried to choose five or six that were evenly spaced around the yacht, and after they were sent in a steep, tumbling plunge to the passing ocean, the ship seemed to slow and level off. A sense of panic tingled in the air. The Ka grasped what we were doing, but there wasn't much they could do. Except release their chains and let us drop …

  The thought made a lump form in my throat. But after the seventh Ka was ice-blasted off the ship, and it became clear to all that the remaining beasts were losing their ability to hold and carry us, they did not give up. Fighting a losing cause, the Ka beat their wings with a renewed urgency. But, just like the dope with the weather balloons, we were lightly descending to the ocean. It was actually working.

  It was strange, but for the first time since the Ka had lifted the yacht, I wondered what their purpose was in kidnapping our ship. Perhaps the thought came because they did not cease their efforts in trying to fly us away even though it was obvious they could no longer succeed. Why not drop us then, letting everyone perish but me and anyone who may be lucky enough to be within touching distance? Then it hit me—thoughts of conversations I'd had with Kenji and Raspy.

  The Shadow Ka knew that after the failure of the Sounding Rod, I was now indestructible. They knew that the Givers were helping me, guiding me, watching over my journey to obtain the Gifts. They could do nothing to stop me directly. Their only hope was to divert my attentions, to tempt me to abandon the Givers for other priorities. The Ka knew that if my family and friends were killed, there would no longer be even the slightest thing to hold me back from going full steam ahead in my efforts against them.

  It was ironic. They wanted nothing but misery and pain for my family and me. And yet they seemed determined to keep us alive.

  Collateral.

  They needed the collateral against me.

  It had been so when Raspy and his men took my family in America. It was so when Kenji and his thugs took my family in Japan. It was so now.

  It was comforting in a very absurd way, but I also knew that it was a string that could reach its end before we knew it. I could not allow myself to ever make a judgment or assumption based on it.

  I forced my thoughts back to the situation at hand.

  I ran over to the railing at the edge of the yacht and looked over the side. We were getting closer to the water, perhaps halving our distance already. The ship was no longer moving forward as it descended, just straight down with a slight swaying motion, like a dry leaf falling from its limb in autumn. The remaining Ka had now put their moot efforts into simply trying to keep the boat above water.

  For a fleeting moment I admired their determination. Why would they not give up? Another thought swept across my brain. Maybe I was giving them too much credit. Maybe they were just following orders and didn't think as deeply as I had assumed. It could be that they were just like the flying monkeys in The Wizard of Oz, dumb as dirt but very obedient. That thought brought back memories of Ole Betsy and Mayor Duck, when I really could've used some flying abilities.

  A wet thump, followed by my knees buckling beneath me, announced that we had hit the water, as gentle as a drunk-piloted airplane landing. The Shadow Ka slammed into the objects they were attached to, finally giving in to defeat, and their chains loosened. They scrambled out of the metal links and folded their wings. All of the Ka, including the ones who had been flying alongside the ship, gathered together in one group, refusing to leave just yet. They came over to where Miyoko and I were standing.

  One stepped forward. It was the same one who had spoken with me when they arrived the first time. His gray skin and black eyes almost blended in with the mist and rain and shadows that surrounded us. The spider web veins that covered his skin seemed to throb and pulse.

  His face. It had an oriental feel to it … something familiar. It didn't take long for me to figure it out. Replace the splotchy hair, remove the veins, add a red bandanna …

  I couldn't believe that I'd missed it before.

  It was Kenji.

  He had changed so much in the weeks since we last met. His face was the only remaining attribute of the man I'd thought repugnant back then. Now, he was nothing but a monster—gray and hideous. He spoke first.

  “You are proving to be a formidable enemy, Jimmy Fincher.” He took another step closer, now just a few feet away from me. He smiled, his teeth yellow and edged in black. “We will leave for now. But know this. We are changing things in this world. A month away at sea, you have been. You will find quite a different world when you choose to return to it.”

  “You're always talking to me in riddles, Kenji,” I said. “Just leave.”

  “Yes, we will leave. But, just like the first time we met, I cannot bear to depart without leaving another mystery gift. You destroyed my first, the Sounding Rod. I leave you another—one that you will not want to destroy.” He leaned toward me, his hollow eyes glaring. “No, you will definitely not want to destroy this one.”

  Without a word, the Shadow Ka behind Kenji parted and moved to the sides until a wide opening lay between two rows of the creatures. Lying there on the ground, the only sign of life his slightly moving chest, was Dad.

  I looked over at Kenji. “What do you mean? What are you talking about? This is your gift to me? My dad?”

  Kenji coughed—a wet, gurgled sound.

  “Yes. When he awakens, you will see a horror that will far surpass anything you have yet experienced. We will see if you have the courage to do what must be done at that time.”

  He and the rest of the Shadow Ka unfolded their wings and took to the sky.

  Fear trickled along my spine, as cold as the icy substance of my second gift. I didn't have the slightest idea what in the heck Kenji had been talking about, but it was terrifying all the same. What had they done to my dad?

  I shook Miyoko from her hold on my arm, the danger gone for now, and ran over to where my dad lay, still and silent. His face was pale, his eyes closed to the whole stinking ordeal we'd just been through. A trembling apprehension filled me as I shook him, trying to get some sign that he was okay.