CHAPTER TEN

The next morning, Grayse was the only person in the house who attacked her bread and jam with any enthusiasm. The rest of us sat around the table, drowsily picking at a stack of toast.

“When’s Da coming back?” Grayse pushed aside her empty plate and twisted the Bollan Cross around her neck, smearing it with blackberry goo from her sticky fingers. “He said he’d take me to the bakery today!”

Fynn, Liss, and I exchanged glances, waiting for Mam to break the silence.

Across the table, she rubbed her forehead and heaved a sigh. “I don’t think he’ll be able to take you anywhere today, little fish. I’m sorry.”

Grayse puffed out her lower lip, always a warning sign.

“Mally,” Mam said quickly. “Why don’t you and Grayse make shortbread? There’s a bag of caraway seeds in the top cupboard, behind last year’s preserves.”

Mally led a pouting Grayse over to the cupboards. Mam finished her tea and followed them.

“That’s her fourth cup.” Liss frowned. “Just watching her is giving me jitters.”

“It’s her fifth, actually,” I corrected, toying with my mug. I needed to occupy my restless hands. Thinking of chopping firewood, I slid out of my chair, but something warm grabbed my right hand and held tight. Fynn’s mouth curved in a faint smile.

The ache in my stomach was replaced by a hot, fluttering feeling. Still, I glanced at the door every few seconds. I imagined Da bursting in with news of Alis’s rescue—a story of how she’d only snuck out to look for shooting stars, or to build sand castles in the moonlight.

Perhaps, I thought as I watched Mam gulp more tea, I should encourage all the girls in town to wear Bollan Crosses like the one I’d given Grayse. I doubted Morag’s eerie fishbone charms could really prevent anyone from drowning, but at least then I’d be doing something, not just sitting here. Already Alis was likely out of the search party’s reach, lying among the coral where no one but crabs and fish would discover her. Like Eveleen and Nessa.

Mam returned to the table, another cup of tea in hand. She took her seat as the door banged open and Da trudged inside. Mam’s hand trembled, sloshing tea over the side of her mug. “Peddyr, is Alis—?”

“She’s gone. We found some small footprints near the cliffs, but that’s all. We searched everywhere.” Da grimaced. “Either the Little Fellas are angry, and they’ve put a curse on the town, or a madman is preying on our daughters.”

Stunned silence followed his words.

“In all my years, I’ve never …” Da bowed his head. “As I was leaving, her mam found her cardigan in their yard.”

Mam took Da’s arm. “Come now, you and the others did all you could …”

“Maybe we ought to leave out bigger cakes, so the Little Fellas won’t take our girls,” Da muttered darkly. “It might help to show Them more respect.”

I stared at my parents. Da—strong, practical, fair-minded Da—wanted to appease the fairies. Nothing was right anymore.

“Peddyr, that’s enough! I don’t want to hear any more talk of unnatural things.” Despite her words, Mam’s face was as pale as Da’s. “Let me fix you some strong tea.”

The moment Mam steered Da into the kitchen, I rushed to the door with Fynn close behind. Given how miserable I felt, Cat was surely feeling far worse. She’d stood up for me in the market, and now it was my turn to support her.

“Where are you going?” Liss called.

“Cat’s house,” I answered as Fynn pushed open the door.

A light rain began as we came within sight of the low sandstone building. The sensation of Fynn’s large hand joined with mine was quickly becoming familiar.

Even more familiar was the red-haired figure standing near Cat’s door. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, seeming to welcome the cold drizzle rolling down his face.

“Morning, Lugh.” I tugged on Fynn’s hand to slow our approach. “Has there—has there been any more news about the search for Alis?” The words sounded hollow, but I’d suddenly been transported back to the night of our kiss. The obvious was all I could think to ask, especially with Fynn still holding tight to my hand.

“Oh!” Lugh shook the water from his shaggy hair and blinked. “Morning, Bry.” He smiled faintly, but it faded when he looked at my hand clasped with Fynn’s. His gaze shifted to the lad beside me, all traces of his smile vanishing. “You must be Bry’s new friend. The comeover all the lasses are sighing about.”

“I go by Fynn. I’m sure Bridey’s mentioned that.” He narrowed his eyes but extended his free hand to Lugh.

Lugh flexed his fingers at his sides, staring at Fynn’s hand until he lowered it. “Actually, Bridey hasn’t told me anything about you. You’re the reason I’ve barely seen her lately, I assume.” He moved closer, bringing his face inches from mine. “Tell me, have you forgotten everything that happened before he came around?”

I dropped Fynn’s hand like it might burn me.

“Of course not!” I stared at the curve of Lugh’s jaw, unable to raise my eyes higher. “Don’t be ridiculous.” I dropped my gaze to the mud.

“If you need a reminder,” Lugh said quietly, his breath warming my cheek, “I’d be happy to give you one….”

“Nothing’s wrong with my memory!” Heat rushed up my neck. Lugh had never given me trouble before, and I wasn’t sure how to respond. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“I just wish things could go back to the way they were. Before—”

“Stop upsetting Bridey.” Fynn clenched his fists. “If you can’t control what comes out of your mouth, I’d be glad to help with that.”

Lugh rounded on Fynn, his eyes flashing. “What makes you so special, anyway? Do you know her favorite color? Or what she fears? What’s the first thing she wants to do when she leaves the Isle?”

“I never said I was special.” Fynn raised a fist, and I stepped between them. “Bridey can clasp hands with whoever she damn well pleases.”

“You want to throw punches?” Lugh glowered at Fynn from around me, taking a step back and spreading his arms wide. “Go on. Hit me. Can’t hurt worse than I do already.”

“Stop it, both of you! This is not the time. Think of Cat and her family!”

I drew a deep breath, prepared to elaborate on how childish they were being when another voice cried, “Easy, lads!”

Several of Cat’s relatives pressed against the nearest window, vying for a better look at the scene in the front yard. One of Cat’s uncles flung open the door and barked, “That’s enough, you two!”

Glancing from Fynn to Lugh, I wasn’t sure whose face was redder. “Listen, Lugh—”

“Don’t.” He swallowed hard. “I can’t talk to you right now, Bry. Cat needs me. I shouldn’t even be out here.” He spun on his heel and hurried inside. The curious faces in the window began to disperse.

“I don’t like him,” Fynn snarled, his breath tickling my ear.

“Don’t say that. He was just being an idiot.” An ache settled in my chest. Part of me wanted to follow Lugh, to throw my arms around him and say something that would wipe the hurt from his eyes. But I didn’t know the right words.

Cat’s uncle had shut the door, but he left it unlocked and Fynn held it open for me. Smiling at the little bow he gave me, I tried to leave the memory of Fynn and Lugh’s shouting outside with the rain.

Given the number of visitors crammed inside the cottage, finding Cat or her mam in their main room was a daunting task. It seemed all of Cat’s relatives, even the ones who lived outside town, had arrived to lend their support.

The way they sniffled and embraced one another, it was as though everyone believed Alis was dead. I thought so, too, but a part of me still hoped we were wrong—that Nessa and Eveleen would stroll down the road tomorrow with Alis in tow.

Fynn stood behind me, shaking water from his hair and wringing it from his shirtsleeves. I squeezed his hand before wandering off in search of my friend. But the only raven hair among the folk gathered in the kitchen belonged to Cat’s mam.

She stood apart from the crowd, looking pale but dry-eyed as she spoke with Ms. Elena, the elderly mam of Liss’s mistress at the tavern, and the oldest woman in Port Coire. Perhaps on the entire Isle.

I hesitated in the hallway, listening for a pause in the murmur of their voices.

“… remember the glashtyn killings? I suppose you’re too young to recall that awful year,” Ms. Elena rasped. Her hearing had been failing for years, which usually made her the loudest one in any room, but now she took great pains to speak just above a whisper.

“A few drowned back when I was a lass, most of them young girls, but some men, too. I didn’t have any sisters, but I worried for myself. I watched the water every time I was to be on my way, even to a neighbor’s house. And no one was away from home after dark.”

“What’s this glass-thing?” Cat’s mam asked quietly. I detected a hint of wariness in her voice.

“A monster from the sea, a rare beast capable of coming on land. I never saw it, but one of my friends swore a glashtyn was responsible for the drownings. Killing young women is their specialty. She said it had a large black fin, rounded at the top—”

“Surely you mean one of the Little Fellas, not a”—Cat’s mam dropped her voice even lower—“a sea monster. There’s no such thing.”

My pulse sped up as I crept closer to the edge of the wall. Ms. Elena seemed to be describing the same fin I’d seen in the harbor.

“No, I mean a monster. A beast as unnatural and wicked as the Devil himself.” Ms. Elena sighed. “I wouldn’t be telling you this if you weren’t the daughter of my dearest friend, as no one ever believes me. They all think I’m daft.” Her voice shook slightly. “Now, the night before one of my cousins drowned, I saw something in the water, too. It looked like the ghost of a man floating above the waves. It disappeared when I blinked, but I can still see it just as clearly today as if it stood now before me.”

I resisted the urge to throw my arms around Ms. Elena. Her story reminded me of the figure I’d seen above the waves just before Alis had gone missing. Finally, someone else was admitting to seeing strange things in the water off Port Coire.

I took a step toward them as Ms. Elena gave a delicate cough. “Then there were more drownings almost eight years ago, when Alured Corkill and two of the Nelson girls died. You remember that, of course.”

Alured Corkill. Grandad. Hearing his name froze me to the spot.

“I remember those drownings, aye,” Cat’s mam said softly. “But I don’t see what that has to do with what’s happening now. Mr. Corkill and those poor girls didn’t leave their windows open and vanish into the night, did they?”

“No, but they were lost to the sea all the same.” Ms. Elena cleared her throat. “Alured Corkill and the Nelson girls’ deaths were the work of the glashtyn, mark my words, or whatever it was I saw that night before my cousin drowned. But everyone just said, ‘Oh, Elena’s finally losing her mind.’ And now the monster’s come to burden us again.” She added, a little louder, “I hope someone’s listening now.”

My mind raced with strange beasts of the sea. Until I’d heard Ms. Elena’s stories, some small, stubborn part of me had been clinging to the hope that the dangers facing us were familiar ones: men, sharks, storms.

Yet Ms. Elena had seen the unexplainable, just like I had. If I could find the strength to go looking, perhaps there was still a chance of catching this killer, be it glashtyn or other beast, before it lured anyone else into the deep.

“What should we do about the glass-tin, then, assuming it exists?” Cat’s mam asked, so softly I could barely make out the words. She didn’t sound convinced, but she wasn’t calling Ms. Elena daft, either.

“Pray. Latch our windows, lock our doors, and keep a closer eye on our girls. Hopefully, the glashtyn will go away when it finds no more victims here.”

Cat’s mam sniffed. “It’s already taken more than enough from me, this monster, if it’s real as you say. My husband has contacted our Parish Captain, and I’m certain he’ll investigate. Whether this is the work of beast or man, the authorities will stop it.”

“I’ve never heard,” Ms. Elena said slowly, “of a man slaying such a beast. But you must do whatever brings you peace, of course.”

Gathering my courage, I turned the corner. Ms. Elena’s eyes widened. “I heard everything,” I whispered, glancing between the two women. “And I saw something in the water last night, probably an hour before Alis disappeared. Out our back window—”

“Bridey!” Cat’s mam seemed to wake from a daze, and put a trembling arm around my shoulders. “It’s so good of you to come.”

“I left the house as soon as Da told me about …” I swallowed hard. “About Alis.” I flicked my gaze back to Ms. Elena as she began hobbling away into the kitchen. “Ms. Elena, wait! I think I saw the glashtyn, too.”

“Keep your voice down!” Ms. Elena paused, arching her wispy white brows. “If you really believe, you’ll listen to an old woman and lock your doors and windows.” She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing me. “You’re just the beast’s type, I’d say. Don’t be the next victim, Bridey Corkill.”

She turned away as a red-haired woman touched her arm and murmured something to her.

In the silence, Cat’s mam huddled against me, as though she needed my support to keep standing. “I hope Elena’s wrong,” she said. “But I don’t know what to believe anymore. I’d never have thought, for instance, that Alis would leave her bed in the middle of the night, and fall from …” She swayed slightly, and I held her up while she took deep breaths.

As we slowly made our way to the nearest chair, I searched the crowd again, but there was still no sign of my friend. Once I’d found someone to fetch Mrs. Stowell a cup of strong tea, I asked, “Where’s Cat?”

The words brought fresh tears to her eyes. “I’m afraid she’s asked for privacy.”

“But she’ll want to see me.”

Mrs. Stowell motioned toward the back of the house, and I made my way toward Cat’s room. Yet when I twisted the knob of her closed door, it wouldn’t budge.

Resting my forehead against the smooth wood, I called, “Cat, it’s Bridey! Let me in!”

I was answered with a wave of sobs.

“Please, Cat! Tell me how I might help.” If one of my sisters vanished, I would certainly want Cat by my side through the ordeal. Still, she did not answer. I waited, listening to the rain pound the roof.

“I’m going to Morag’s now, if you won’t let me in. I need to do something more than standing here.”

If I lingered in this hallway much longer, I might see Lugh again, might get a deeper look at the hurt in his eyes. Hurt I’d put there. I didn’t know if I could stand the sight.

The time had come to find out if Morag truly believed in the sea monsters she’d described to me, and if she did, what powers she might have to stop them. Maybe I couldn’t bring comfort to Lugh or the Stowells, but I could try to prevent the killer in the sea from tearing another family apart.

“I don’t care what you do! I don’t care about anything right now, unless someone has a way to bring Alis back.” A pillow thumped against the door. “Just go.”

“I’ll make things better,” I whispered to her closed door. “You’ll see.”

The trouble was, I didn’t quite believe the words myself.