Ashes on the Waves

by Mary Lindsey

  “There is no body. No bodies at all on the island. There’s not enough room and much of the year, the ground is frozen too solid to dig a grave. We cremate on pyres.”

  Anna wrinkled her nose. “Well, there goes that idea.”

  Francine cleared Anna’s empty cup, shaking her head. “It has never added up. Babes are born with fingernails; long ones sometimes, but they’re soft. The marks were deep and far apart. Liam’s tiny fingers couldn’t have spread that wide. Also, he couldAlsborn n’t have bitten through his own cord like she said. He didn’t have any teeth.”

  “Didn’t anyone point that out?”

  “I did, but no one would listen. They were afraid of empowering the demon by giving it an alibi.”

  Anna snorted. “That’s ridiculous!”

  “I agree,” Francine said. “Worse than that, they were going to just leave him there in the snow to die. But sweet Erin Callan couldn’t stand it and convinced James to let her take him home since she couldn’t have children of her own.”

  I’d never heard this before. I had no idea Francine had refuted the evidence. Nor did I know that they were going to leave me to freeze to death.

  Francine sat back down at the table next to Anna. “And let me tell you, Brigid Ronan whipped them into a frenzy. I was worried they were going to execute the baby in some violent way on the spot.”

  “Oh, my God,” Anna gasped.

  “And they chose to believe her. Her! An outsider and all.”

  This was absolutely news to me. “Ronan isn’t a villager?”

  Francine leaned forward. “Heavens, no. She appeared out of nowhere. We assumed she was brought in by the old man.” She nodded to Anna. “Your uncle. She was never part of our village, though she’s familiar with the lore, which means he didn’t bring her in from the city. Perhaps she came from the old country.”

  “Well,” Anna said. “This calls for some sleuthing. And I know just where to start. I think it’s time I become very close friends with

  my housekeeper.”

  “Be careful,” Francine warned.

  “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll just express my concerns about our demon here and see what she says.”

  “Well, I for one would like to see this put to rest,” Francine said. “So Liam can get on with something more important—like flying.” She winked at Anna, who flushed a beautiful shade of crimson.

  13

  There are some secrets which do not permit themselves to be told.

  —Edgar Allan Poe,

  from “The Man of the Crowd,” 1840

  While Francine cleared the table, I could feel Anna looking at me. She knew. She knew who and what I was. More than that, she now knew how I felt about her.

  Francine rinsed and dried a cup. “Anna, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go back to Taibhreamh tonight unless Liam walks with you there. The Na Fir Ghorm are restless for some reason.”

  “So are the screaming things. I thought my eardrums would break on the way here,” she said. “Don’t worry. There’s no way I’m going back out there alone.”

  Francine stared out the tiny window at the end of the room. “Something is happening with the Otherworlders. It might be because of the upcoming Bealtaine celebration. They are always strongest when belief is highest.”

  “I’ll walk you back,” I volunteered, dreading the possibility of seeing Nicholas again. What if Francine and Anna were wrong? What if it were not jealousy, but the monster emerging instead?

  “You’re welcome to stay here,” Francine offered a bit too eagerly, “until the sun comes up and the Bean Sidhes and Na Fir Ghorm are weaker. Sunrise is in a few hours anyway. Why don’t the two of you just relax? I’m going back upstairs.”

  Why, I wondered, was Francine throwing us together and encouraging a relationship when heartache was all that could result? Didn’t she see the impossibility of it?

  Anna looked from me to Francine and back again. I had no idea what to do. The fact that she would even consider more time with me was remarkable. Perhaps that wasn’t the reason. Maybe she didn’t want to be alone with me on the way back to Taibhreamh.

  “Sure. I’ll just hang out here, then, if that’s okay,” she said.

  “What about your guests?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “They know I won’t be back tonight. They’re cool. Nicholas found the wine cellar, so he and Mallory won’t even know I’m gone.” She rolled her eyes.

  Francine didn’t even try to conceal her grin. “Well, I’m off, then. You two make yourselves at home. There’s food if you get hungry. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Um, would you mind if I used your phone again?” Anna asked.

  “This late, dear?”

  “I’m going to leave a message for someone on voice mail.”

  Francine shrugged. “Of course.”

  In only a few moments, Francine returned. I could hear Anna’s voice but couldn’t discern the words. Perhaps she was again appealing to her father to bring her home away from this loathsome place. I certainly wouldn’t blame her.

  Before long, she returned to her chair and Francine bid us good night.

  We remained at the table, silent for a long time after Francine’s footsteps reached the top of the stairs and her door closed. Unable to find a suitable starting point, I waited for Anna to lead the conversation.

  Wordlessly, she stood and moved to the sofa, brow furrowed, clearly struggling with her new information. I understood her difficulty, as I’d struggled to make sense of it since childhood.

  “You should have told me,” she said. “You had lots of opportunities.”

  I couldn’t bring myself to meet her eyes. “Some things are best left unsaid.”

  “Not something like this. I asked how your mom died. I asked a lot of things and you didn’t answer truthfully. I’ve been totally honest with you.”

  I met her eyes. “And I with you.”

  She crossed her arms over her body. “No. You’ve hidden things from me. What else do I not know?” She stood. “God, Liam. I wanted to . . .”

  “But we didn’t.”

  She paced in a circle around the table. “Yeah, because I thought you were shy and scared and had some kind of self-image problem we needed to work through first.”

  “I was scared. Terrified. I still am.”

  She stopped pacing and faced me from the other side of the table. “Of what? Of turning into a demon and killing me or something?”

  I pulled my eyes away. She remained silent, and my chest felt as though it would cave in on itself. This was the moment I hahe

  She placed her hands wide on the table and leaned toward me. “I was scared too. You want to know why?” I met her eyes but said nothing. I slid my hand off the table into my lap so she wouldn’t see I was shaking.

  “I was scared, Liam, because I’ve never felt like this.” She didn’t move but stayed on eye level. “Never. You do something to me. I can’t explain it.” She stood up straight. “And honestly, it’s disturbing.”

  Before I could speak, she returned to the sofa and buried her face in her hands. Too stunned to form words, I focused on breathing in a regular rhythm.

  Her voice came out muffled through her hands. “I really wish you’d say something, Liam, because I feel pretty stupid right now.”

  I had no idea what to say. I wanted to laugh and rejoice. She feels it too. I took a calming breath, slowing my heart rate. “It is the belief of my people that certain souls are created specifically for each other and that if one is fortunate enough to meet his or her perfect match, their souls will commune on a level beyond earthly. It is called an anam cara, or ‘soul friend.’”

  She lowered her hands. “Are these the same people who say you’re possessed by a demon?”

  I shook my head. “No, that’s a local belief. This is Old World lore.”

  “Good, because the demon thing is way off.”

  “I sincerely hope you’re right,” I said, sitting on
the opposite end of the sofa.

  We stared at each other, and again, as on several occasions before, it felt as though our souls touched.

  She looked away, breaking the link, and picked at the fabric of the cushion. “Please don’t keep stuff from me anymore.”

  “I’ll endeavor not to, but I’m not the only one with secrets. You’ve withheld information as well.”

  She shook her head. “Nope.”

  “You didn’t tell me you were practically engaged.”

  A perfect eyebrow shot up. “I am?” Her eyes opened wide. “Oh. You’re talking about Nicholas.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s full of crap. No way would we get married. He’s way too selfish. Dream on, Nicky.”

  “Why did he allude to an arrangement, then?”

  “Because he’s an ass and was trying to rattle your demon’s cage.” Her expression grew dark. “Wait. You don’t think I’d mess around with you if I was in a relationship with someone else, do you?”

  “Honestly, Anna, I’m unfamiliar with the rules of your world. My knowledge of you is based on what I’ve read and what I feel when I’m with you.”

  She crawled from her side of the sofa, stopping inches from me. “What do you feel when you’re with me, Liam?”

  I breathed in her lily fragrance. “Overwhelmed.”

  She moved closer still, until her warmth fanned across on my skin. “And?”

  “Honored,” I whispered as her lips almost touched mine. “Amazed.”

  “Like you can fly?” she said, brushing her lips along my neck.

  “Absolutely.”

  The shrieking began the moment her warm lips met mine, jerking me from heaven into some kind of hell.

  “Crap!” Anna covered her ears. “The timing sucks,” she grumbled. “Why are they here?”

  I dropped my head against the back of the sofa and groaned. “I have no idea.”

  Anna curled against me, hands still over her ears. “There has to be a way to get them to shut up.”

  I wished I knew how.

  “What do they want from us?” she asked.

  I smoothed her hair from her face. “I have no idea. In some stories I’ve heard, they’re warning of an impending death. In others, they’re mourning for the wrongfully dead, as we discussed. I hear them because of my mother. I’ve no idea why they are appealing to you as well.”

  “My uncle, maybe?”

  “Possibly. It would mean foul play, though.”

  She pressed closer. “It sounds like they’re screaming words. Can they understand us?”

  If only my left arm worked, I could have put it around her. Instead, it lay uselessly by my side as she leaned against my chest. “I have no idea. I’ve never attempted to communicate with them.”

  “Shut up,” Anna yelled. They got louder. “Well, that didn’t work.” She winced.

  If they were speaking a language, it was one I’d never heard. “Please. We want to help you. Listen to us,” I implored. They fell silent.

  Anna sat up on her knees. “Whoa. It worked.”

  “Are you punishing me for my mother?”

  Silence.

  “Are you warning us?” Anna asked.

  I flinched at the chorus of screams.

  Anna grinned. “They understand us. Maybe they’ll shut up if we can figure out what they want.” She sprang from the sofa and walked in a circle around the room, leaving my chest, where she had been leaning, cold and empty.

  “So, was someone murdered? Was it on this island?” The shrieks increased with each question she asked. “Is the murderer still alive?”

  The volume was too much and I could only cover one ear. “Stop, please!” They obeyed.

  Anna joined me on the sofa again. “So, there’s a murderer on the island and they want us to do something about it.”

  “That fits the lore I’ve heard,” I said. “We need to find out whose murder links us together since we both hear them. Are you here because of the death of my mother?” I asked. They wailed in response. Well, the entire village knew who her murderer was, but it didn’t link me to Anna in any way I could imagine. My mother died when Anna was an infant.

  “Was it my uncle who was murdered?” The wailing got even louder. “Please stop.” The Bean Sidhe fell silent at Anna’s command. “Well, we need to figure out how he died and who did it, huh?”

  An incredible golden glow emanated from the corner opposite us. A beautiful woman materialized as if created by fireflies from the forest. She gazed at us as she stroked her long, golden hair with a silver comb. Her dress of a clinging gauze material moved about her legs like seaweed in a current. She smiled, and then the luminescence intensified until shefieth a s was as brilliant as the sun and it hurt to look at her. Despite the pain, I was unable to avert my eyes.

  “An angel,” Anna gasped.

  At that moment, I realized what it was, the Washerwoman. The Cailleach. “No.” I pulled Anna to me. “Look away!” I tried to shout, but no sound came out. It was too late—we had been entranced.

  The shimmer faded and the woman transformed, darkening and stooping over to become as terrifying as she had been beautiful just moments before. No longer did her skin luminesce; it writhed and boiled as if crawling creatures cavorted just under the surface. Her lush, sleek hair dulled to a knotted, gray tangle and the front of her dirty smock was covered in gore, as was the garment she held in her gnarled hands. She stared down at the bloodstained rag she clutched, then raised her black, hollow eyes to us. Her mouth gaped open, and a horrible shriek issued forth, sending shudders to my very core.

  Anna went limp against me and slumped to the floor. I couldn’t move, still caught up in the enchantment of the creature keening in the corner.

  “What in the name of heaven is going on?” Francine’s voice snapped the spell, dissolving the Cailleach and freeing me from my paralysis.

  I dropped to my knees by Anna’s side. Oh, God, I pleaded in my head. Please, no. I pulled Anna onto my lap. My insides folded in on themselves, causing an ache in my chest so intense, I couldn’t breathe. A silent sob racked my body as the horrible truth burst in my brain, shattering all reason. Seeing the Cailleach meant death.

  Francine placed her palm against Anna’s neck, then patted me on the shoulder. “She’s fine, lad. Just passed out cold.”

  I sucked in a rush of stinging air and shook my head to clear it. Placing my palm over her chest, I reveled in the miraculous thump of her heart that traveled up my arm, wrapping itself around my own heart. She was alive.

  “Anna, wake up,” I said, cradling her head with my hand.

  “No. Let her sleep.” Francine stood. “Sometimes our body shuts down to help us cope with things our mind can’t handle. Help me move her to the sofa.”

  Anna looked so fragile, lying under the quilt Francine had draped over her.

  “Now, tell me what happened,” Francine whispered, motioning for me to join her at the table. I hesitated, reluctant to leave Anna’s side. “Come on, Liam. She’s only sleeping. Let her rest.”

  The chair seemed unnaturally hard, and my heart still raced. I looked over my shoulder at Anna, wishing to be closer. She had felt it too—the strange, more-than-earthly connection we shared. She acknowledged it—her proclamation followed by the closest thing to a death sentence the lore provided. Her words were appropriate: the timing “sucked.”

  “Tell me, Liam,” Francine pressed.

  She patiently waited while I untangled the unintelligible chaos swirling through my brain. “It was the Cailleach,” I whispered. “It was a beautiful, ethereal being—too beautiful to behold—and then . . .” I shuddered at my recollection of the gore-covered hag.

  Francine’s brow furrowed. “The girl saw it too?”

  I nodded.

  She grasped my hand between hers. “Liam, the Cailleach brings an omen, not a curse.”

  That was not the case and we both k anlleacnew it. “Everyone who sees her dies.”

  “Liam, lad. Ever
yone dies no matter what. It’s only an omen. It is not a certainty.”

  I pulled my hand away. Had I seen the Cailleach before Anna’s return into my life, it wouldn’t have mattered. Imminent death would have been a relief in a way. Not now. Not when I’d finally found a reason to live.

  “Look at me,” Francine said. “You need to really hear me. Are you listening?”

  I nodded, numb and cold, as if I’d been submerged in the icy ocean.

  “We all die—some sooner, some later. How or when we die doesn’t matter; what’s important is how we live.”

  I looked away.

  “Live, Liam. Live in the moment. Treat each second like it could be your last.”

  It could be my last. I had been doomed. So had Anna. “How do I tell her?”

  Francine leaned across the table and took my face in her hands. “You are not hearing me.”

  I pulled myself out of my ice-cold numbness and focused on Francine’s face.

  “You cannot tell her,” she said. “It’s only a myth, a story.”

  I shook my head.

  She moved her hands to my shoulders and squeezed, as if trying to wake me, her blue eyes boring into mine. “There are things that should be kept secret. This is one of those things.” Francine’s intensity was alarming. “I know what I’m talking about. I’ve been in your shoes.”

  “You’ve seen the Washerwoman?”

  She dropped her hands. “No, but someone I . . .” A pained expression crossed her face. “Someone I knew did.”

  “How long before death?”

  “You are missing my point,” she whispered.

  “How long?” My voice cracked.

  “Not long, but his death could have been unrelated to seeing the Cailleach.”

  I put my head down on the table. Anna would be leaving Dòchas soon. Maybe off the island, the spell would be broken and she would be spared. My heart lifted slightly.

  “Don’t make the mistake I made,” Francin

  e said. “Time is precious. I lost sight of that. I only focused on how to beat it. All my thoughts went to preventing his death rather than celebrating the time we still had together.”