by Mary Lindsey
“Cedar,” I said. “The walls, ceiling planks, and beams are cedar.”
She studied my bookcase by the door. “All classics. Don’t you read anything recent?”
“The books were my mother’s. I don’t have access to any others. My ma gave them to me saying my mother would have wanted me to have them. Since there’s no school on Dòchas, these were my education.”
“Who is Ma?”
“My mother died at my birth. Ma was my foster mother. She passed away a year ago.”
“I’m sorry, Liam.” She resumed her study of my bookcase. “Yuck. Tennyson, Shakespeare, Keats, Milton, Poe, Hugo? Well, if these are what you grew up on, that explains a lot.” She ran her fingers over the paint-stained easel in the corner. “You paint?”
“Sometimes.” Having her in my space felt wrong. She didn’t belong here any more than I belonged in her world.
She studied the splattered tabletop and floor. “You paint a lot.” She ran her forefinger over the corner of the table and held up the blackened tip toward me in question.
“Charcoal. I sketch occasionally.”
“May I see?”
“No.” The word came out louder and quicker than I’d intended, and she winced in response. “I’m sorry. It’s just not a good time.”
She peeked behind the bathtub curtain. “I did sort of ambush you. Francine said you wouldn’t mind, though.”
“Why are you here, Anna?” I don’t know what answer I was anticipating, but it certainly wasn’t the answer she gave.
“To kiss you, of course.”
I’d never fainted in my life, but I was certain I was on the brink at that moment. “I’m sorry about that. It was wrong of me.”
She smiled. “I thought it was adorable.”
Adorable. I stood stunned in the middle of my tiny shack staring at the most beautiful girl in the world, unable to move—hardly adorable at that moment.
She approached my bed and my heart rate doubled. “Okay, how about breakfast, then?” she said.
Breakfast I could manage. Being alone and this close to her would kill me outright. “That sounds perfect. I need to take care of some things first if that’s okay.”
“What kind of things?”
It was my turn to answer with an arched eyebrow.
“Oh,” she said. “I’ll just wait outside, then.” She flashed me a brilliant smile and slipped out the door.
After taking a deep breath and waiting for my heart to slow to a non-lethal rate, I splashed water on my face, combed my hair, and brushed my teeth using the basin and pitcher on the table by my bed. After a bit of fumbling, I managed the buttons on my shirt and joined her outside. “One more moment, please,” I said as I headed to the outhouse.
“Well, that answers that,” she said when I joined her on the path in front of my shed. “I noticed you didn’t have a toilet.”
“The only structure with indoor plumbing on the island is the mansion,” I replied.
“Well, that kinda sucks,” she said with a smile. “I bet you don’t stay in there reading the paper like my dad does.”
I laughed. “Certainly not in the winter anyway.”
She became serious all of a sudden. “How do you stand it, Liam? Living in a place like this, so isolated and cut off from the real world. So backward.”
To me, this was the real world. It’s all I’d ever known. And all I ever would know.
I inserted my key in my lock. I had installed the lock, probably the only one on Dòchas, after someone had broken in and written threats on my walls last year.
“You don’t even have running water,” she said. “I’d go nuts.”
I stepped past her and struck out on the path toward the pond. “You don’t miss what you’ve never had, Anna.” And at this moment, no words had ever been truer. After my blunder yesterday, my pain and longing had grown far more intense than it had ever been over the years—almost untenable. As much as it thrilled me to experience her in this grown-up state, it might have been better left as it was: a childhood love in a pretend kingdom by the sea—the imaginings of my fanciful mind.
We stepped into the clearing next to the pond and she gasped. “It’s gorgeous! I had no idea this was here.” It pleas k.t size="ed me she found one of my favorite places beautiful.
“It’s our ice pond. In several months it will be completely frozen over. The freshwater ice is cut and used by the villagers.”
“That makes sense,” she said. “No electricity means no refrigerators or freezers.”
Several ducks paddled lazily across the mirror-like surface, unconcerned by our presence. The trees reflected in a ring, making the pond appear to fold in upon itself in vivid shades of emerald. A log made a natural bench and I gestured for her to sit.
“So, breakfast?” she said with a grin that exposed her perfectly straight, white teeth.
There were no restaurants on Dòchas. I could have gotten breakfast at the shop with my work credit, but at this time of day, I might run into Pa on the dock and wanted to avoid that at all costs. “We need to discuss our options,” I said. “Would you prefer something from the sea or the earth?”
“Anything that works for you, Prince Leem. You should know, though, I don’t eat flesh.”
Oh, God. She’d heard the rumors. My pulse hammered in my ears and I fought to control my breathing. “Nor do I.”
“Cool! So you’re a vegetarian too.”
Ah, I had misunderstood. Relief ran through my body in a warm cascade. “No. I eat meat.”
“But you said—”
“I misspoke.”
She absentmindedly picked a piece of bark from the log. “You’re kinda weird, you know.”
Weird was an understatement. “So, breakfast from the sea is out,” I said. “Please wait here. I’ll be right back.”
The apple trees were full of fruit this time of year and the one on the far side of the pond was laden with them, even on the low branches. I twisted a couple off and slid one into my shirt pocket. They were small compared with the ones we got in the shop, but two should be sufficient.
Across the pond, I met her gaze. It was strange knowing she was watching me. I was unaccustomed to companionship and didn’t like the feeling of self-consciousness and inadequacy her scrutiny invoked. What did she see when she looked at me? To her, I probably looked like a pitiful disabled eighteen-year-old stuck in a world inferior to her own. Just like when she gazed from the cliff at the sea, she had no awareness of the opportunistic evil under the surface, just waiting for the right moment to assert power.
I will never give evil the opportunity, I swore inwardly. I would fight it with everything in me.
I lowered myself beside her on the log, far enough away to stave off my impulse to touch her. The impulse was strong—almost overpowering—and based on last night’s “kiss me” debacle, I needed to be wary of my weaknesses.
She reached over and slipped an apple out of my pocket, remaining close for a moment—just long enough for her floral scent to fill my nose and unravel me slightly. “You’ve got it bad, Leem, don’t you?” she whispered in my ear.
She had no idea.
I’d read in the tabloids that she was notorious for saying outlandish things to get a reaction. She told the reporter it was her “shock and awe” approach, and I was experiencing both shock and awe at the moment.
I cleared my throat and shifted slightly away. “Be real, Ann kBewe a,” I whispered. “Don’t play with me. You sought me out for a reason and this isn’t it.”
She nodded and took a bite of the apple. “Way to cut through the BS. You’re right: I did come for a reason. But I’m right too. Admit it.” She took another bite.
Admit I wanted her? I couldn’t. It would give the impulse strength, thereby reducing my control. “Why did you seek me out?” I took a bite of the apple in my hand despite my complete loss of appetite.
“Because you know stuff I don’t. Because I’m scared and need your help.�
�� She placed her fingers on my arm. “Help me, Liam.”
Her complete and total candor surprised me. I’d expected her to keep puffing off squid ink to obscure her real motive, but instead, she cut right to the reason for her visit.
“I’ll help you any way I can. Always.” I pitched what remained of my apple into the pond and a duck pecked at it.
“Weird things are happening. I—”
Pa’s voice cut through the trees like an ax. “Liam, you no good loafer! Where the hell are you?” I knew this tone. He’d been drinking. “Get out here!” He banged on my door hard enough to splinter it. The knocks bounced off the trees surrounding the pond. He must have gotten to my shed via the cliff trail. Only a small copse of trees separated us from his rage. “Francine said you weren’t coming in this morning. You’d better have a damn good reason if you don’t want to freeze this winter. You’d better be in there half dead. If not, you’re gonna be.”
“Let’s go,” I whispered, taking her hand.
“Go where?”
I pulled her to her feet. “Anywhere but here.”
8
“Invisible things are the only realities.”
—Edgar Allan Poe,
quoting William Godwin,
from “Loss of Breath,” 1832
Slow down, Liam. I can’t keep up.” Still clutching her hand, I lifted my arm to prevent her fall as she caught her toe on a root in the path. She was unfamiliar with the landscape and wore a ridiculous pair of shiny shoes that barely covered her feet. “I mean it. Stop!” she shouted.
I stopped.
“What’s wrong with you? That guy bellows, and you run like a scared rabbit.”
She didn’t understand, and there was no time to explain. “Please, Anna. I’ll tell you why when we are out of view.”
“But I—”
“Please. Indulge me.”
She nodded. “Fine, but don’t drag me, okay?”
I released her hand and started back up the trail to the lighthouse. She followed along behind me, picking her way over the rocks and roots. Pa’s shouts rang in the distance. He’d probably figured out I wasn’t in the shed by now.
When we reached the top of the hill, we sprinted behind the lighthouse and I had Anna duck down to stay out of view while I retrieved the key from where I’d hidden it behind a loose brick in the retaining wall. We pressed flat against the back of the lighthouse and crept to the front. The metal door opened easily and n.t s shouts I pulled Anna in with me before locking it tight. The walls of the lighthouse were thick enough to drown out Pa’s yelling. In the complete darkness, Anna’s fast-paced breaths mingled with my own over my hammering heart.
“Wow. You went all James Bond on me there, Leem,” she whispered.
I had no idea who James Bond was, but the sound of her breathy whisper was entrancing. And she was close. If I had leaned forward, we would’ve made contact. I took a small step back to prevent what would have been a certain disaster.
“How long do we have to wait here?” she asked.
“Not long,” I answered. Soon, our breathing slowed and her nearness was no longer painful. Surely Pa had given up his pursuit and had returned to the harbor by now. I felt my way around the brick room until I found the wooden ladder to the observation deck.
“Where are you going?” she whispered.
“Up. Follow me.”
“I can’t see you.”
“Follow my voice. I’m over here.” I kept talking until her hands met my chest. “There’s a ladder behind me.” With one hand still on my chest, she felt for the ladder.
“Got it. Going up.” To my surprise, she climbed up into the darkness without hesitation. “I’m at the top. Now what?”
I was right behind her on the ladder. “There’s a trapdoor above you. There’s no lock. It’s a bit weighty, though.”
She grunted and then light burst through the widening crack of the hatch as she pushed it open. I admired her graceful ascent into the now-perfect square of sunshine. When I emerged, she was sitting on the deck, leaning back against the casing that used to hold the lamp when the lighthouse was operational.
“If we stand, we’ll be spotted,” I said, joining her.
She flashed a gorgeous grin. “No duh. Leave the Sherlock Holmes stuff to me and you stick to Bond, okay?”
“You’re making pop culture references. I’m not familiar with those men.” I peeked over the edge just enough to see Pa staggering down the final hill to the harbor.
She folded her legs under her. “Is he gone?”
“Yes.” I leaned back against the casing.
“So dish.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Her blue eyes appeared endless in the sunshine. “Why do you run from him? You told me he hit you when we talked in the store, but there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”
“Yes.”
She waited, but I was unwilling to reveal more.
Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, no way. You don’t get off that easy. You said you’d explain why you bolt every time he raises his voice.”
A gull screeched in the distance, barely audible above the sea wind. “Pa has a terrible temper and doesn’t approve of me in any way.” That was kind, actually. He hated me. “When he drinks, he . . . he’s not himself.”
I’d hoped that would satisfy her, but it didn’t.
“And . . . ?”
“And I’d rather not end up at the bottom of a cliff like Connor MacFarley’s wife.” Though I was sTho="1sure the entire island would applaud that outcome.
She brushed aside some hair that had blown across her face. “My God. You think he’d kill you?”
I knew he would. “Perhaps, but that’s not an issue now. You said you needed my help.”
“Yeah, well, that seems unimportant now. I don’t have a crazy guy out to kill me.”
“Nor do I. He’s gone. Please tell me what’s troubling you.”
She hugged her knees to her chest, put her chin on her knee, and closed her eyes. She said nothing for a long time—so long, I thought she had dozed off. Finally she opened her eyes and spoke. “I think I’m going crazy.” The wind whipped her hair across her face again and I resisted the urge to pull it aside. Poor Anna. She looked so tired. “Honestly, I think I’m losing it.”
“Dòchas will do that.”
She pulled her hair back and held it. “What? What does Dòchas do? How? Why?” Her eyes pooled with tears. “Why?”
My own eyes stung in sympathy. “I don’t know why.” In her case, it made no sense. “What’s happening that leads you to believe you’re going mad?”
She released her hair and it blew in all directions, obstructing my view of her face. “I’m hearing stuff—voices and screaming.” Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. “All night at the mansion, something screams. Terrible, terrifying screams. And when I get near the water, voices call me to join them—and I want to.” She swept her hair away and met my eyes. “I’m scared, Liam.” A tear breached her lashes and shimmered as it made its way down her flawless skin. Unable to help myself, I brushed it away with my thumb. She leaned her face into my touch.
And I was undone.
I pulled my hand away and held my breath. It was essential I focus. She wanted my help. What was it she needed? Certainly not what my instincts were dictating. I stood and grasped the railing, deliberately keeping my back to her so she couldn’t tell I was shaken.
From this height, I could see most of the island. At the docks a few fishing boats bobbed next to their buoys. Seal Island was the only thing that broke the expanse of blue sea beyond the yawning mouth of the harbor.
“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” she asked.
“No.”
“Ronan does.”
I spun to face her. “You told her?”
She pushed to her feet. “I asked her what the screaming was at night and she acted like I was a total nutcase. Told m
e it must have been something I ate or the caffeine in the coffee you brought.”
“Brigid Ronan knows exactly what you heard.”
She joined me at the railing. “What was it, Liam?”
It was safer for her if she knew and she was ready now. “Otherworlders. The Bean Sidhes, in particular. You heard them in the woods as well.”
“And the voices when I get near the water are really the blue guys that sink ships my uncle used to talk about?”
I nodded. “The Na Fir Ghorm.”
“You think they’re real.”
“I know they are.”
Her brows drew together. “You believe there are things communicat sgs 1">“I kning with us that we can’t see.”
I turned leaned against the railing. “Without a doubt.”
She shook her head and strolled to the other side of the deck, overlooking the estate and cliffs. I joined her and we stood side by side in silence while she processed. She was smart. This would be hard for the intellectual and analytical sides of her to accept.
“Don’t you think there are logical explanations for this? I mean, have you ever seen one of these things?” she asked finally.
“I’ve never seen an Otherworlder, but many have.”
She put her fists on her hips in defiance. “Who? Some whacked-out ignorant villagers?”
I moved to the side of the lighthouse overlooking the woods. “What is the shape of the earth?”
She followed. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Just answer me. What is the shape of the earth?” In the distance, Megan was playing with a dog on the path. It bounded through the underbrush to retrieve whatever object she’d thrown. It was too far to see her face, but since she was the only child on the island, it was certainly Megan.
Anna made that peculiar laugh-through-her-nose sound. “The earth is round—spherical.”
I faced her. “How do you know?”
She rolled her eyes. “Because I’ve seen it.”
“Have you?”
She threw her hands up. “Oh, come on! Are you telling me the earth is not round?”