Fear the Drowning Deep(21)

“Your sister? The girl who came here with you? The pretty one?”

The words echoed in my mind, chasing away all thoughts of sea monsters. “She’s quite lovely, yes. But I meant—”

“And have you ever looked in a mirror?” Morag leveled her gaze at me, but only for a moment.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Did she mean that if I used a mirror more often, I might be able to fix my unsightly qualities? My sandy freckles. The slight bend in my nose. My small ears. Or did she mean a mirror would show me how lovely I was? Whatever her intention, I was content with my looks—the good parts and the flaws.

“Would you care to tell me what happened to your leg?” I murmured, putting on a polite smile. Morag deserved a reminder of her own imperfections. Lugh would be proud of me for asking, besides. Still, my eyes darted to the door as the silence between us grew. I was asking for trouble, talking back to a witch.

“An accident. Long time ago,” Morag said at last.

“What attacked you?”

“Nothing.” She was as curt and gruff as ever.

“But what—”

“When I was a girl, my foot got caught in a hunter’s trap. I tried to free it instead of waiting for help.”

My irritation vanished. “That must’ve been terrifying.”

When she said nothing more, I helped myself to another slice of pie and considered Morag’s story. If she’d been injured as a child, how had she lived all these years alone? How could she afford to pay me or buy flour and milk? My stomach lurched as I guessed the age of the flour she’d used to make today’s pie. It would have been from the last time Mam purchased supplies for her and hauled them up here, long before I began my apprenticeship.

“It was terrifying,” Morag muttered at last. “But I had a good friend who made sure I would be well provided for.”

“Who?”

“Your—that’s none of your concern.” The hard glint in Morag’s eyes was enough to persuade me to pry no further. “Now, for your next task, I’ll need you to find me some agrimony. Eight or ten stalks should do. They have—”

“Little yellow flowers. I know.”

“Good.” Morag slowly rose from her seat. “I need a handful of pennyroyal, as well. And mind you, don’t eat any.”

“I’m not a goat.” I didn’t want to know why she needed the poisonous plant. “Shall I start looking for it now?”

Morag’s eyes widened. “In the rain? No, the herbs can wait for a drier day, and you shouldn’t touch them with such filthy hands.” She glanced pointedly at the ash under my fingernails from cleaning her hearth. “Go. Spend time with your guest.”

The idea of running down the hill to see if Fynn had woken was tempting. But my family needed as much money as I could bring them. “Please, ma’am. I’d be happy to find the herbs today, if you’re willing to pay extr—”

“I’m not a ma’am, I’m a Morag. And I was young once too, you know. I realize young people can’t work all the time.” She smiled, but on her, the expression was eerie and sad. “Of course,” she snapped in her usual gruff tone, “I was never as clumsy as you. I never lost anyone’s bucket.”

I pushed my chair away from the table, my shoulders and back throbbing from the work I’d done.

“Go home.” Morag shooed me toward the door, a wild gleam in her eye. “While there’s still daylight, else the woods might swallow you up and never spit you back out!”

I called a farewell, and she slammed the door shut in answer. At least there was a certain familiarity to the routine developing between us.

A mild breeze greeted me as I left the forest behind. The rain had stopped. And though I skipped down the hill, my thoughts remained with Morag. Until I began calling, she’d been alone in her dark house with only piles of old rubbish for companionship. And, despite her choice to live far removed from the rest of Port Coire, there were rare moments when she struck me as lonely. But did she truly stay out of town because of her leg?

The shadow that sometimes crossed her face made me wonder if she remained in that cottage because she had something to hide behind her gruff words and spooky manner.

As I crossed the market, Lugh caught my eye, beckoning me toward the fountain. “Bridey! Finally!” he called, a grin lighting up his face. “I was starting to think you’d followed Nessa to Peel!”

I slowed my pace but didn’t change course.

We’d hardly talked since our wonderful kiss. I’d had too much else occupying my time, but I wanted to try kissing him again soon. Maybe. Had the kiss really been wonderful? Surely if it had, it would have crossed my mind before now.

“There’s a rumor you were involved in a daring rescue at the beach yesterday …” Lugh flashed me another dazzling smile. “I’d never have believed it! Tell me the tale before Cat gets hold of it and embellishes it with ridiculous detail.”

I shook my head. “Not today.”

Lugh’s face fell slightly. “All right. But I’ve been thinking of you, Bridey.” He gave me a look I couldn’t quite read. “Haven’t you been—?”

“Of course. All the time,” I said, perhaps too quickly. Lugh frowned. “I really can’t talk now, but come find me tomorrow, if you’d like, and I’ll tell you all about the rescue.” I started to smile in apology but must’ve hesitated a moment too long.