“I understand wanting to be left alone when it comes to people like Mr. Gill,” I whispered, steering us into the cover of trees. “But we aren’t all horrible. And I know you love Mam, even if you didn’t like my gran.”
Morag released my arm and paused beside a tree, breathing hard. “I know they aren’t all bad. Why do you think I’ve been making the Bollan Crosses?” She tugged on her cloak hood, using it to shield her eyes from the driving rain. “I’ve loved your mam from the moment she was born, just as I loved your grandfather. Just as I care about you—you have the same color hair as him, did you know?” A ghost of a smile crossed her face, quickly vanishing. “I want to help save your sister, however I can.”
I considered Morag for a moment, trying to imagine how she would fare in the water with her ruined foot if whatever boat we borrowed suddenly capsized. There was no way she could swim.
“Can you rescue Fynn for me?” I had no hope of freeing him myself, not when I needed to get to Liss as quickly as possible. If there was ever a time I needed a little magic, it was now, though Morag had made it clear she didn’t do spells. “He’s probably locked in a room at the Gills’ house for now.”
A gust of wind blew Morag’s hood off, but her face broke into a smile as she handed me the lantern. “I may have lost my nerve long ago, but I’ve never met a lock I couldn’t undo.” She tugged on something in her cloak pocket, and produced a jumble of rusty keys.
I hesitated. “If those don’t work …” I was asking her to do something immensely difficult and dangerous, yet Morag merely smiled.
“They’ll work.”
“How can you be so certain?”
“Magic.” Her smile widened, even as I blinked a question at her. “There’s a kernel of truth in some rumors. Remember that. I’ll find the boy and free him.”
There was no time to ask the many questions suddenly on the tip of my tongue. And even if there were, I doubted Morag would answer a single one.
“Thank you,” I managed, pushing the questions to the back of my mind for Liss’s sake. “Tell Fynn where I’ve gone.” I adjusted my grip on the rain-slicked poison jar. “And Morag?” She met my gaze, her eyes blazing with unearthly light. “Take care, won’t you?”
“I will if you will, Apprentice Bridey. Remember, the serpent can make you imagine terrible things. Don’t trust everything you see. And check the caves along the cliffs first. As that page in your hand says, serpents like to make their nests in sea caves. Besides, if it ate recently, it may be saving your sister for later.”
I ran faster than I ever had down the familiar path to the harbor.
Nightfall was almost upon us, and there was no telling how long we had until the wicked creature was hungry again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Every boat harbored in Port Coire shuddered, rocking in the high wind. All but one. The creak of ropes straining and the slap of water against wood mixed with the hammering of rain. Everything reeked of fish. As I approached the small craft tied near Da’s vacant spot, the source of the stench became apparent. Someone had left a bucket of crabs in their boat. A few shifted restlessly on top of the pile, snapping at one another.
Two battered paddles lay on the dock near the crabber’s boat. I grabbed them and leaped from the dock to the vessel, careful to keep low as the little craft rolled with the waves. I couldn’t imagine who would miss such a battered thing, should the serpent destroy it. Perhaps the owner would thank me for the excuse to purchase a better one.
I set the poison jar and the lantern by my feet in at least an inch of collected rainwater.
Panic tightened my throat. If the storm worsened and the boat sank, I was doomed. I still couldn’t swim. But I had to search for Liss and bring Da home. The rain was simply one more reason to hurry.
Not stopping even to empty the bucket of crabs, which would cost precious seconds, I sat on the wooden plank stretched across the center and dipped the paddles in the choppy water. I’d seen Da steer his boat often enough to have a basic idea of the motions. Within minutes my arms burned, but I was making slow progress out of the harbor.
I guided the boat north toward the sea caves, hugging the shore as much as possible. The shelter of the cliffs provided some relief from the raging wind, and though waves still broke against the prow of my tiny vessel, they were smaller than the ones on the open sea.
The rain had soaked through my innermost layer of clothes some time ago, but that didn’t make sitting in a squelchy puddle any more comfortable. I shivered, blinking raindrops from my lashes and wishing for a lull in the roar of thunder and wind. If the serpent sneaked up behind the boat, I would only know by its breath on my neck.
I refocused on paddling. Massive, dark towers of rock jutted up before my boat, shrouded in mist and stretching toward the cold sky. They signaled the start of the network of caves where Grandad used to look for periwinkles, the sea snails he liked to boil for soup.
“Liss!” I shouted. My only answer was the keening wind blowing through holes in the rocks.
Tendrils of mist coiled around my arms and legs, making it difficult to steer. Manannán’s Cloak had been Grandad’s name for this unnaturally dense fog. I fought the urge to turn the boat around. If Manannán Mac Lir, Son of the Sea, was raising his cloak of mist around the Isle he had once ruled, then I was in more danger than I could imagine.
A horrible screeching assaulted my ears as the boat came too close to a narrow column of rock. I paddled furiously, but something prevented me from moving. The serpent?
A dark shape hovered just beneath the boat. I used one of my paddles to jab at it, but was met with strong resistance. Whatever I’d stabbed seemed much harder than a serpent’s body.
With a trembling hand, I reached down to touch the dark shape. Coarse rock scratched my shaking hand. I withdrew it, angry with myself for losing my nerve so quickly. There was no room for fear while Liss’s life depended on me.
The thin column of rock was much wider at its base. I tried paddling, but the boat made another screeching sound as it rubbed against the rock.
I rose carefully to my feet and stashed the paddles by the poison jar. Thrusting my hands into the water, I attempted to push the boat free. “Come on!” I shoved the wide rock a second time, then a third, sharp bits of sediment opening tiny cuts on my palms. Finally, the boat shifted, and I freed it with a final push.
My hands stung as I wrapped them around the paddles and moved forward once more.
“Liss! Can you hear me?”
Through breaks in the mist, I stole glimpses into the pitch-black mouths of flooded caves, their beds of gravel and shell submerged by the swollen sea.
“Help!” A girl’s petrified scream shredded the air.
I glanced wildly around, holding the lantern aloft with one hand, but there was no one in sight. “Where are you?”
There was no answer.
Letting the boat drift, I scanned the cliffs. At first, there seemed to be no sign of a nearby cave, but then my gaze settled on a low rock overhang. I paddled toward it, fighting the fatigue in my arms with every stroke. The bandage on my injured forearm had begun to unravel, but there was nothing to be done for it now.
“Please don’t let me die,” someone sobbed as I drew closer.
“Liss?” I yelled, hardly daring to believe that the voice belonged to my sister.
“Bridey!” she shouted. “I’m in here! Oh, God, is it really you?”
I moored the boat on the heap of crushed shells that formed the sea cave’s floor. Even knowing Liss was nearby, I took great care to make sure the boat wouldn’t be swept away. Cold water sloshed around my ankles as I crouched and crawled through the entrance, guided by my lantern’s feeble light.
Running a hand along slick walls, I called out, “Where are you?” My voice echoed faintly. My lantern wasn’t strong enough to reach into the depths of the cave.
“I don’t know!” Liss sobbed. “It’s so dark! Hurry!”
“I’m coming!” The ceiling of the cave rose after a few steps, allowing me room to stand. The stench of decay was as disorienting as the lack of light outside the narrow halo of my lantern. My foot grazed a cluster of barnacles, and my stomach squirmed.
“Just my foul luck.” As I stumbled down the narrow passage, frantic breathing filled my ears. “Liss?”
“Bridey! Right here!” A hand swiped at my leg from the shadows, causing me to miss a step. I flapped my arms, the lantern bobbing wildly, but my feet found purchase in a pile of something soft, like rotten logs.
“W-watch your step,” Liss stammered. “There are bones in the corners.”
“Bones?” I leaped back, splashing myself with chill water.
“Get me out of here!” Liss wailed, her cry echoing off the cavern walls.
“Take my hand.” I reached out, trying to take in the state of her. Liss sobbed harder as my fingers closed over her wrist. “Can you walk? I’ve got a boat at the entrance, but we need to hurry. The storm is getting worse.”
Liss sniffled. “I think my leg is broken. The beast—” She shuddered. “When I first heard your voice, I thought it was back. Making me imagine things again.”
I remembered what Morag had told me. “Serpents are powerful illusionists.” But my sister’s hand clutching mine was too warm and familiar to be a trick. I pressed my fingers into her wrist to find her pulse, reassured by its faint rhythm.
Manannán had conjuring powers just like the serpent. It was rumored he could make one man appear as one hundred to any enemies who dared approach the Isle. Perhaps, if I asked nicely, he would aid me in confusing the serpent long enough for me to toss the poison into its mouth. Or perhaps he’d send me the magical red javelin he kept at the prow of his boat to spear his attackers.
Another cry from Liss drew me back to the present moment. “Listen, you’ll have to try walking if you want to get out of here. I don’t think I can carry you. Use your good leg and lean on me as much as you need to, all right?”
We crept along the short passage, occasionally banging into the walls or stepping on shells despite the lantern’s aid. When a fainter shade of darkness appeared ahead of us, I shouldered most of Liss’s weight and hurried to the mouth of the cave. The boat was right where I’d left it, paddles and all.
With a groan, I heaved Liss over the side and scrambled in behind her.
The rain, which had been a nuisance before, now felt wonderfully refreshing. I collapsed on the boat floor beside the bucket of crabs, giggling, while my ashen-faced sister stared. The greenish rainwater now reached halfway up the outside of the poison jar, signaling the loss of more precious time. But I had rescued Liss, and we were free of the dark, decaying-bone cave. That was plenty of cause for giddiness.
“Let’s go,” I said, reining in my giggles at last. I reached for the paddles, my gaze falling on Liss’s outstretched legs. Her skirt hung in tatters, and one of her legs bent at an unnatural angle. Needlelike punctures surrounded the break in her left leg, and the rain had washed away traces of old blood. She must have used scraps of her skirt to staunch the bleeding.
I swallowed hard, fighting a wave of nausea. No doubt Liss could feel how serious the wound was, and there was no point in alarming her more by mentioning it.
“Hang on, Liss.” I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “We’ll send for a doctor as soon as we’re back on land.”
Liss nodded, her face pale and pinched as she toyed with a string around her neck. Her Bollan Cross.
“I was on the way to Martyn’s, and I saw him in the waves. He was shouting for help,” Liss said, apparently taking no notice of my struggle to push the boat back into the water.
“I swam out to rescue him because it looked like something was trying to pull him under. And when I got to the spot where the water turns from green to blue, he vanished.” Her eyes were unfocused, her breathing labored. “The serpent grabbed me, and that’s when it—”
I thought she might faint, but she pressed her lips together and drew a breath through her nose. When she continued her story, her voice was steady. “It broke my leg. Then it dragged me to that awful cave. And even though it took me underwater, I could still breathe.” She closed her fist around the small bone on the end of her necklace. “This thing is really magic, isn’t it?”
I forced a smile, hoping to comfort her. “It must be. Pray you never need it again.” As I eased the boat back into the misty sea, water continued to rise in the hull. It crept partway up my calves, demanding not to be ignored.
“See that bucket?” I jerked my head toward it, unable to take my hands from the paddles as the waves surged higher. “I need you to dump those crabs in the ocean and start scooping the water out of the boat.”
“I can’t reach it.” Liss’s eyes shone with tears.
Of course she couldn’t, not with her broken leg. I hooked my right leg around the bucket, drawing it closer, then kicked it toward Liss. “How about now?”
The sound of angry pincers, followed by a gigantic splash, was a welcome reply, signaling that Liss had grabbed the bucket at last.
The farther from the shallows I paddled, the faster the wind rushed around us. Water crashed against the prow, sending a furious spray into our faces. It was all I could do to keep from losing one of the paddles, but at least I put a safe distance between us and the rocky shore.
“What are you doing?” Liss shouted over the clamor. Even with the storm hushing her words, the panic in her voice was clear. “I want to go home!”
“We have to find Da first! He’s out here searching for you!”
Our boat listed hard to the left, wooden sides creaking in protest. If we came any closer to tipping, I would have to release the paddles to help Liss. In the water, we would be easy prey for the serpent. He wouldn’t have gone far.
As we tilted farther, something bounced out of the boat and dropped into the water with a loud splash. The sound chilled my blood.
“Liss!” I gasped. She clutched the boat sides and gazed at me with wide eyes.
The waves shifted, and the boat righted itself as abruptly as it had tilted. Liss whimpered, and I thanked the stars neither of us had fallen in. Drawing a shaky breath, I guided us between two massive swells.
“Give a shout if you see Da.”
“I’ll try.” After a moment’s pause, she added, “I’m so scared, Bry.”
Manannán’s mist rolled with our boat, following us out to sea. It gave me an idea. “How about a song?”
Liss nodded, pressing her lips together as though holding in a cry.
“It was not with his sword he kept the Isle, neither with arrows or bow. But when he would see ships sailing, he would cover it round with a fog. He would set a man, standing on a hill, appear as if he were a hundred. And thus did wild Manannán protect—”
“Bridey, do you see that?” Liss pointed at something over my shoulder.
Without raising the lantern, which I’d left by Liss, I couldn’t see much of anything. “No. But do you have any idea what fell when we tipped?”
Liss didn’t reply. With a break in the waves, I turned to see her wiping strands of golden hair from her forehead and frowning. She held the lantern aloft, and I followed her gaze to the distant figure of a burly man in a large boat, riding the crest of a tall wave.
“Da?” Liss muttered.
I paddled toward him as quickly as my exhausted arms would allow.
“Da!” Liss cried again, her voice rising.
“Over here!” I shouted. If I didn’t stop paddling, we would reach his boat in a few minutes’ time.
When we were no more than a stone’s throw away, Da’s features came into focus. His worn cap, his favorite patched shirt, his broad smile. He beckoned us closer.
“We’re coming!” I called. “Liss is hurt!”
Da’s smile widened as we approached. He seemed perfectly calm. And his clothes and hair were completely dry.
I stilled the paddles.
“What’s wrong?” Liss demanded. “Why did you stop?”
Da continued to beam at us.
“That’s not him,” I murmured. “The serpent is making us see things.”
I turned the boat for shore, but a dark, scaly wall blocked the way.
“He’s gone. Da just vanished, like Martyn. He’s gone!” A scream ripped from Liss’s throat. She must have spotted the massive obstacle in our path.
The serpent’s middle was as wide as the spread arms of a grown man. Its body was covered in thick scales like plate armor. Ebony spikes ran the length of the monster’s spine. Its body writhed with the waves, but its head remained hidden.
Summoning every last ounce of strength, I paddled harder, seeking a break in the rippling chain of flesh. But the serpent had encircled the boat in seconds. My heart banged against my ribs.
“Hand me the jar!”
“What jar?” Liss cried, swinging the lantern around. “I don’t see it!”
The serpent slowly tightened its circle. Huge waves crashed into the monster’s side, glancing off its scales like water against rock. A shrill hissing reached my ears, sending a burst of cold down my spine.
“It’s the only jar on the boat!” I dropped the paddles. There was no use in steering the vessel while only a few feet of water remained between us and the serpent. The jar had vanished—it must have made the splash I heard when the boat nearly overturned.
Panic clouded my vision, but Liss’s quiet sobs kept me from falling to pieces. My sister needed me. If I kept the serpent occupied long enough, perhaps Liss could cling to the boat and drift to safety.
Through a haze, I wrapped my sore hands around the paddle. I wasn’t sure I could kill the monster, or even pierce its scaly hide, but if it showed its ugly head, I would make it hurt.
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