Rick Riordan Presents: It Lurks in the Night, the latest YA supernatural thriller from acclaimed author Sarah Dass, is on sale now!
All Maya Woods wants is to reunite her three best friends, Pearl, Erica, and Lystra, for one last epic boat trip to the islands around their Caribbean home before they all graduate from high school. But the girls are forced to make an emergency landing on Annatto—an island avoided by locals and tourists alike because of the rumors of monsters and shadows that lurk in its depths. Before long, the yearly tradition descends into darkness, and the girls are sent into a spiral of grief and suspicion.
As old arguments and new betrayals rise to the surface, Maya and her friends can feel the shadows closing in on them. Something is lurking in the night, and they must be ready to face it.
Drawing from the darkest corners of Caribbean mythology, Sarah Dass delivers a supernatural thriller blends cultural nuance with monsters that go bump in the night, giving long-time Rick Riordan Presents fans the kind of story that will root into their hearts and awaken never their deepest fears.
Meet Maya and get your first glimpse of tragic mysteries surrounding the Small Islands right here with this exclusive chapter excerpt:
Two weeks before . . .
When I was five, I saw a mermaid.
It happened during a party on a yacht. My attention had been snagged by the silver gleam of a marlin. The fish darted through the rippling cobalt-blue Caribbean Sea and disappeared beneath the boat. I paused my search for my parents and leaned over the side, stretching a little too far. I lost my balance and tumbled into the water, the splash neatly concealed beneath the tinkling music and laughter.
I sank without a life jacket. No one at the party wore one. They had to consider the aesthetics of their carefully selected evening wear and all the photos that would be taken.
At the age of five, I had not yet learned how to swim, my understanding of the sea filtered through dips in the shallows and animated movies. It’s one thing to know it’s big and another to experience the immense depths as it drags you under. I flailed, uselessly swiping at the water, my hands grasping for something and finding nothing.
The layered skirts of my party dress—already oppressive and dangerous in that day’s heat—wrapped like a weighted blanket around my body. I screamed and screamed, bubbles blooming from my mouth, rising toward the elusive surface. My lungs ached, deprived and desperate for air. I inhaled involuntarily. Salt water flooded my mouth and I choked. My vision began to darken at the edges.
That was when I saw her.
A princess from my favorite movie. An illustration in a storybook. A folktale creature.
I could not see her face, only her shadow blocking the light above. I felt her outstretched arms urgently reaching for me, grabbing me, and hauling me upward to safety. It was the last thing I remembered before I blacked out.
Three years later, I discovered it was actually my older sister who saved me. Charlotte, the only person on the yacht to notice my fall, had jumped in after me. I learned the truth as my mother mentioned it in her appeal to the news cameras. She had been advised to use brief anecdotes to humanize my sister.
In that moment, every camera lens focused on our somber, tear-swollen faces as Mom begged Charlotte—or whoever had taken her—for a safe return.
Charlotte is a hero, Mummy had said. She’s so loving, kind, and smart. The best daughter anyone can hope for. She means everything to us.
Perhaps after learning it was Charlotte who saved me all those years ago, I should have rewritten the old memory. Reconciled the mermaid to a figment of my imagination. But I didn’t. Instead, in Charlotte’s absence, the image of my sister and the folktale became more entwined.
Even now, ten years after Charlotte disappeared, I still found myself staring at the sea, searching the water for something I knew could not be there. Because folktales were not real, and Charlotte was never coming back.
“Psst, Captain.” Mateo’s voice snagged my attention. “You’re up.”
I lifted my eyes from the sea and the play of sunlight as it rippled over the watery surface. Thoughts of my sister had distracted me from the chaos unfolding around us. I’d been thinking about Charlotte more often lately as the anniversary of her disappearance neared. I’d recently turned eighteen, the same age at which she’d gone missing. Soon enough, I’d be older than she lived in my memory. It felt wrong.
“Captain,” Mateo prompted me again, a little more irritated this time. He redirected a child who was leaning too close to the outboard motor. “They’re getting louder. Do something.”
“You have to stop calling me that,” I told him for the millionth time. “The real captain won’t appreciate it.” I flicked on the microphone and lifted it to my lips. “If I could have your attention, please. Attention!”
My voice made the tiniest dent in the wall of noise supplied by the children of O’Neil’s Primary School. There were twenty-two of them, all between six and eleven years old. The five supervising teachers tried their best to establish some sort of peace and order, but their efforts were decidedly lacking.
“We are currently nearing the end of our trip along the Small Islands,” I said unnecessarily with the dock in sight. But after working as a part-time tour guide for the past year, I’d developed a script that was a reflex at this point. “We will be disembarking shortly, starting with those at the back and working our way through, row by row. Please be patient and wait for your turn. Then, as the saying goes, you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.”
A few of the children nearest me groaned. I chose to believe it was in response to the end of the trip and not my joke.
“I know, I know,” I said. “I’d stay out here all day if I could, too. But all good things must come to an end.”
After turning off the mic, I checked the clock on my phone. Even though we were behind schedule—an inevitability whenever we were hired for school field trips—I still had enough time to get home and changed for my father’s cocktail party.
“Where were the dolphins?” a small voice asked. “How come we didn’t see any?”
I looked down, meeting the wide, watery eyes of Curtis, a deceptively adorable nine-year-old. Like all the passengers, he wore an orange life jacket, the mint-green uniform shirt beneath. He had acted as my shadow and interrogator for most of the field trip. While I usually did not mind answering guests’ queries about the Small Islands and the marine life that surrounded them, everyone had their limits. Curtis crossed mine about fifty questions ago.
“My cousin Oliver saw dolphins on his tour,” Curtis pressed. “How come we didn’t see them, too?”
“Your cousin was very lucky.” I bent to meet his eye level. “I’ve been boating around these islands for years. I know the routes like the back of my hand, but I’ve never seen one.”
I tried not to sound too bitter about this fact, but it still slipped out anyway. The other tour guides for Small Island Tours had all spotted a pod or two over the course of their time with the company, but never me. There was a running joke about the dolphins deliberately avoiding me.
As the only employee with an enduring interest in marine biology, I didn’t find the jokes very funny.
“That’s not fair!” Curtis insisted. “If he saw them, I should, too.”
While I agreed that everyone should see a dolphin in the wild, his demanding delivery had me a bit nervous. I glanced over to the nearest teacher for help. The teacher was too preoccupied to notice.
“The dolphins are probably resting,” I said. “Everyone needs a day off. Maybe next time you’ll see them.”
Curtis pouted up at me. “Oliver said he saw them near Annatto Island. But our boat didn’t go anywhere near there.”
“Ah.” Simultaneously, I realized two things. First, Cousin Oliver could not have witnessed dolphins on a Small Island Tours boat. None of our routes ventured that far from the mainland. Second, this child appeared to be unaware of Annatto Island’s reputation. At his age, that was probably a good thing.
Eager to discover what happens next? Pick up your copy of Rick Riordan Presents: It Lurks in the Night today!