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.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
No one smiled or waved as I crossed the nearly deserted market square on my way to Morag’s. The few folk not at Cat’s house or mulling things over by the comfort of their own hearths went about their business with bowed heads, some casting anxious glances over their shoulder as they tended their gardens or swept their steps.
“Poor little Alis. The search party hasn’t found a thing
, and not for lack of trying,” Mr. Cretney remarked to his wife as they repaired a broken shutter.
“But who could be behind all these disappearances? Not any of my neighbors, surely!” Mrs. Cretney dropped a handful of nails as I hurried past. “Do you think the old witch has finally figured out how to work a curse on this town?”
I pressed my lips together and looked away.
“I haven’t a clue, dear,” said Mr. Cretney.
I pointed toward the cliffs, though I doubted either of them would understand that no signs of Alis or Eveleen or Nessa had been found because they’d been taken somewhere unreachable. Nothing kept secrets like the sea.
Ms. Elena’s words drifted back. Don’t be a victim, Bridey Corkill. I didn’t intend to be. With any luck, Morag would know something to aid in my search for the town’s monster, whatever it was.
As I ran to the witch’s house, the bright sky and twittering birds seemed to mock me. The sky should have looked thunderous, the birds silent out of respect for our sorrow.
“Morag!” I leaned against the weathered wood of the cottage, panting. “Mor—”
The door swung open, and I made a wild grab for the frame to keep my balance. Morag raised her brows as she put a gnarled hand on my shoulder to steady me. In her other hand a spoon dripped with sticky-sweet batter.
“I wasn’t expecting you today, Apprentice Bridey,” she grumbled, stepping aside to let me in. “Though I should know by now that you rarely turn up when you’re expected.”
“There’s something terrible happening in town.” I took a few deep breaths and sank gratefully into a chair at Morag’s table.
“Is there?” Morag hobbled to the kitchen and began fixing tea.
“Remember the two girls who went missing?” I hesitated, wondering how to explain about Alis without my eyes leaking worse than Morag’s rusty water pump. “Another vanished last night.” I dug my nails into my palms to stop myself from losing my nerve. “And around that time, I saw something in the water that looked like a ghost. And I’ve seen other things, too. Something dark and scaly, the night of the big crash.”
Morag kept her back to me as she poured the tea. Boiling water shot over the side of the first mug.
“How does any of that concern me?” she asked at last.
“I thought you could tell me about monsters. Being a witch and all. You swore to me they exist.”
“And you laughed,” Morag said shortly. “I didn’t think you believed me.”
“I thought you were teasing me.” I bowed my head. “I’m sorry. But I’m not laughing now, and I need your help. Do you have a spell to get rid of them?”
Morag finally turned, a grim but determined light in her eyes. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, lass, but the only magic I possess is in herbs and charms.” She shuffled to a stack of rubbish and picked up the battered book she’d shown me before. “Here. This will tell you far more than I can.” She thrust the book into my arms. It was heavy as a toddler, and the motion sent a wave of dust and mold into my face. “Keep it for as long as you need.”
“But—” I sneezed, and set the book on the table to examine its tatty cover. “By the time I read all this nonsense, who knows how many more of my friends will have disappeared?” Morag still wouldn’t look at me. “A little girl went missing last night. She was seven. Seven. She liked cake and horses and spending time with my sister.”
“I’m sorry,” Morag grunted, returning to her kitchen. She started mopping the spilled water. “But I can’t help you, and even if I could, why would I bother aiding a town that mocked and abandoned me?” Her eyes flashed. “Take that book and go now.”
“If you know anything, please—”
“There are monsters in the sea, that’s the extent of my knowledge. All I will do”—Morag paused, breathing hard—“all I can do, if it will get you to drop the matter, is make more Bollan Crosses so none of your wretched friends drown.”
I scowled at her. “Morag, please! Whatever I saw last night, I think it’s the same thing I thought I saw when Grandad jumped.”
“Go now,” Morag repeated, gentler this time. Still, there was something behind the words. Not a threat, but maybe tears. “Go. Now. And never ask me again about any of this.”
“Fine,” I huffed. It was plain there was nothing I could do or say to convince her. I reluctantly grabbed the heavy tome off the table and sprinted out the door, not slowing until I came within sight of home.
Fynn was reclining on the sofa when I stormed into the house. It seemed everyone else was still at the Stowells’.
“You left early?”
“Same as you,” Fynn said groggily, sitting up. “I was tired of all the questions about why no one was looking for me, and how a tourist could be clumsy enough to fall off a boat on the calm ride here. What’s that?” He pointed at Morag’s book.
“Just a stupid, useless old thing.” I tossed it into a corner, where it landed with a bang. “Morag isn’t going to be of any help.” Only my tremendous love of books stopped me from kicking the moldy tome. “How can she not care if every one of us walks off the cliffs in the night?”
Strong hands fell on my shoulders, holding me captive in the shadows. I turned to Fynn, and a wild fluttering replaced my rage.
“Relax, Bridey. I won’t let anything happen to you—any of you.”
“You can’t promise that.” The tears I’d been holding back since leaving Morag’s cottage threatened to stream down my cheeks, but I fought them back, blinking hard. I wouldn’t cry on her account. “You could be a businessman from London, for all you know. How can you fight whatever beast is behind this? Your last encounter with the sea ended poorly.”
“Fighting isn’t always about being strongest.” Fynn squeezed my shoulders. “Winning demands cleverness and strength of will, as you well know.”
“But what if there are things out there you’re not prepared for?”
Something about the way Fynn looked at me made me want to tell him all my secrets. It felt … dangerous. I’d never shared so much of myself with anyone. And yet, I couldn’t resist. Steeling myself against the painful possibilities of his reaction, I whispered, “Suppose I’d overheard someone say they think there’s a sea monster in Port Coire?”
In the mouth-dry, hands-shaking moment of silence that followed, I snuck a peek at Fynn. His posture was rigid, but he hadn’t scoffed or turned away. He watched me steadily. “Does that sound … mad to you?”
“A sea monster?” His voice was higher than usual. “Why would someone say such a thing?”
My stomach sank. “Lugh would have listened,” I muttered as I started to turn away. “He would have at least considered the possibility.” Though Lugh had never once said he believed my story about Grandad. He’d protected me from the stares and whispers of others, but he never thought there was anything in the water.
“I believe you,” Fynn declared, locking eyes with me. “After being attacked and seeing those giant crabs in the market, I’d say those who don’t believe in the possibility of monsters are the mad ones.”
“You do?” I touched his arm, which felt warm and solid as ever. This was no dream. “You swear it? Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“Thank you.” I wished I could give him something more than whispered words of gratitude, but short of bringing him the moon, I doubted there was any way to repay him for the trust that meant everything to me.
“There’s no point in trying to warn my parents. I’ve tried in the past,” I added a moment later, my head still spinning. Fynn nodded. Breathing a little easier, I asked, “Have you ever heard of a glashtyn?”
His fingers dug into my skin. “No.”
“Ouch! Are you trying to leave a mark?”
He dropped his hands to his sides. “I’m sorry. I’ve never heard that word.”
“Never mind. I’m—” I took a deep breath. “I’m just trying to find answers. I’m scared of who we’ll lose next. Alis i
s gone. What if it’s one of my sisters next time? Or Cat?”
“You can’t think like that.” Fynn rested a hand on my back. “Being afraid for them won’t help them.”
“You’re right.” I raised my eyes to his. “I want to find the monster that’s making people disappear, and stop it. But it’s in the sea, and I haven’t swum in years. I don’t know if I remember how. If something drags me below, I’m doomed. I want to protect my sisters, but I can’t even save myself.”
“Come for a swim with me in the shallows. Tomorrow morning.” Fynn’s eyes gleamed with an unearthly light. “All the disappearances have happened at night, so we should be safe in daylight.” I shook my head, already uneasy, but he pressed his point. “Once you’re in the water, the motions of swimming will come back to you.”
“You don’t understand. I can’t!”
He gave me a puzzled look. “Help me, then. Tell me why an islander like you can’t swim.”
Fynn didn’t breathe a word as I explained about Grandad. “You’re stronger than you think, Bridey,” he said at last. “You can swim, no matter what painful memories are haunting you. And I’ll be right there with you to scare off any unwanted creatures. We’ll guard each other.”
I hesitated. Fynn seemed so sure of everything, even without his memories. If I went to the beach again, I’d surely embarrass myself horribly in front of the boy I wanted to impress most. But my desire not to be a victim, as Ms. Elena put it, was stronger.
The time had come to get my feet wet again.
“Tomorrow,” he added, watching me with a frown. “Or the offer’s gone.”
I narrowed my eyes at him and sighed. “You strike a hard bargain.” I extended my hand to shake. “But first, we need to find our monster.”
Fynn’s hand gripped mine, warm and steady. But not even his nearness could distract me just then. I hurried to retrieve Morag’s book from exile.
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