Fear the Drowning Deep(8)
I lingered in the shadows, hardly daring to breathe.
“What about Bridey?” Mam said suddenly.
“What about her? She’s only fifteen, Mureal. It wouldn’t be—”
“Bridey’s almost seventeen. Liss is fifteen. And Liss has been working since the summer.”
I stared at the floor, ashamed for the second time today. Was I so useless? At least I had the pearl. I uncurled my fingers, eager to be reassured by the pearl’s swirl of colors, and gasped.
An unremarkable stone rested in my hand, bumpy, dark, and dirty.
I rushed back to our room to search the pockets of my other dresses.
Nothing. The pearl must have fallen out during my adventure with Cat and Lugh. But wouldn’t one of us have noticed such a beautiful thing rolling away?
When I returned to the main room, Mam and Da were still talking. This time, I cleared my throat to announce my presence. They flinched and scooted apart. Sighing, I perched on the edge of the armchair.
“I overheard you.” I let them feel the full weight of my stare before I continued. “I’d be glad to find work.”
“Really?” Mam smiled, but shadows rimmed her eyes. Perhaps she’d had one of her headaches today. They always accompanied the dreams that inspired her paintings, and sure enough, a new canvas lay glistening on her easel. It was one of her most unusual paintings yet, of what looked like a black horse with deep blue eyes and a dolphin’s tail, swimming beneath an unsuspecting boat. It wasn’t the shape of the creature that made it seem so unusual, though. What struck me as odd was that its eyes seemed somehow human, full of an intelligence I’d never seen a horse or dolphin possess.
Recalling the eerie image, I shuddered.
“If you’re sure about this, Bridey”—Mam’s voice drew me back to the present as she rubbed her temple and exchanged a glance with Da—“I know just the thing.”
“I’m sure.” I tried to return her smile, but my lips only twitched. “It’s past time for me to start contributing to the family.”
Unlike the pearl from Da’s net, that wasn’t an empty, glittering promise.
CHAPTER THREE
Bathed in the early morning gloom of the front hallway, Liss and I shivered as we donned our thickest cloaks. The howling wind that had woken me around sunup showed no sign of relenting. Sighing, I turned up the high collar of my cloak, grateful that whoever had sewn it knew the island’s fickle weather well.
“Here, bird. Take this.” Mam offered me a scarf, but I merely glared.
“Isn’t there somewhere else I could work? I could chop wood for Ms. Katleen at the tavern, or …” I shrugged, at a loss for ideas.
Jobs were as scarce as fish lately. At least for a girl who wouldn’t go near the sea.
Mam rubbed her temples. “This is the only position I could arrange for you on such short notice. And Morag Maddrell is a sweet, harmless old dear. You’ll be a great help to her, assisting with errands and tidying her cottage.” Mam frowned when I pressed my lips together. “You’ll want to walk quickly in this weather, as she lives above—”
“I know where she lives!” My throat stung. I hadn’t meant to shout, but every child in Port Coire grew up hearing of Morag’s strangeness. And everyone feared the witch’s house. It sat on a big hill at the far end of town, crouched deep in the woods like a barnacle clinging to driftwood. Liss and I used to dare each other to see who would venture closest without shrieking and running away. Even now, with my most practical sister by my side, I dreaded the thought of going there.
Mam pressed the scarf into my hands and, for a moment, I wanted to shout again.
Instead, I took a deep breath and let it out through my nose. The promise I’d made to my parents just two nights before echoed in my thoughts. Work meant more food on our table, and with the sea’s bounty evading the nets of Da and the other fishermen, my family needed me.
“Let’s go.” I exchanged a grim smile with Liss, then put a hand on the doorknob and glanced at Mam. “You’ll be rotten with guilt when we never come home because Morag decided to use our bones in a spell like she did with Nessa Daley.”
“You watch your tongue!” Mam’s face was ashen. “I can’t imagine a killer among us, least of all Morag. Now, off with you!”
I stepped outside, Liss at my heels. Since the mysterious girl had washed ashore, my life bore a strong resemblance to Da’s fishing—it had taken a turn for the worse.
Liss was silent as we climbed the steep path to the witch’s cottage. The trees lining the way had grown so that their branches had intertwined, creating a shady canopy that blocked the cold sea breeze.
This chill weather always reminded me of Grandad. He said it made him feel more alive. He was always trying to convince us to take walks with him on mornings like this one, sometimes to look for seashells, other times just to talk.
I shook my head to clear it. Every once in a while, something still made me miss him.
A few more steps brought us within sight of a rotting cottage huddled in the woods. It reminded me of a scab I’d had once, a giant black blemish on my knee that I had taken great pains to peel off.
I glanced at Liss, and hesitated. “I’m not sure I can go through with this.” I didn’t know how Liss could, either. But the moment she’d learned where I was to work, she had insisted on seeing me safely inside.