Fear the Drowning Deep(34)
“If you need a reminder,” Lugh said quietly, his breath warming my cheek, “I’d be happy to give you one….”
“Nothing’s wrong with my memory!” Heat rushed up my neck. Lugh had never given me trouble before, and I wasn’t sure how to respond. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“I just wish things could go back to the way they were. Before—”
“Stop upsetting Bridey.” Fynn clenched his fists. “If you can’t control what comes out of your mouth, I’d be glad to help with that.”
Lugh rounded on Fynn, his eyes flashing. “What makes you so special, anyway? Do you know her favorite color? Or what she fears? What’s the first thing she wants to do when she leaves the Isle?”
“I never said I was special.” Fynn raised a fist, and I stepped between them. “Bridey can clasp hands with whoever she damn well pleases.”
“You want to throw punches?” Lugh glowered at Fynn from around me, taking a step back and spreading his arms wide. “Go on. Hit me. Can’t hurt worse than I do already.”
“Stop it, both of you! This is not the time. Think of Cat and her family!”
I drew a deep breath, prepared to elaborate on how childish they were being when another voice cried, “Easy, lads!”
Several of Cat’s relatives pressed against the nearest window, vying for a better look at the scene in the front yard. One of Cat’s uncles flung open the door and barked, “That’s enough, you two!”
Glancing from Fynn to Lugh, I wasn’t sure whose face was redder. “Listen, Lugh—”
“Don’t.” He swallowed hard. “I can’t talk to you right now, Bry. Cat needs me. I shouldn’t even be out here.” He spun on his heel and hurried inside. The curious faces in the window began to disperse.
“I don’t like him,” Fynn snarled, his breath tickling my ear.
“Don’t say that. He was just being an idiot.” An ache settled in my chest. Part of me wanted to follow Lugh, to throw my arms around him and say something that would wipe the hurt from his eyes. But I didn’t know the right words.
Cat’s uncle had shut the door, but he left it unlocked and Fynn held it open for me. Smiling at the little bow he gave me, I tried to leave the memory of Fynn and Lugh’s shouting outside with the rain.
Given the number of visitors crammed inside the cottage, finding Cat or her mam in their main room was a daunting task. It seemed all of Cat’s relatives, even the ones who lived outside town, had arrived to lend their support.
The way they sniffled and embraced one another, it was as though everyone believed Alis was dead. I thought so, too, but a part of me still hoped we were wrong—that Nessa and Eveleen would stroll down the road tomorrow with Alis in tow.
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.”