Witches of the Deep (The Memento Mori Series #3)

The rebuke hit Fiona like a punch to the gut. She was getting sick of his attitude.

After a few minutes, Lir cleared his throat. “The buildings were a gleaming white, like the insides of seashells. Around the island, I remember the little red flowers—the scarlet pimpernel that grew by the cliffs’ edges, among winterberry and juneberry trees. There were so many birds. Egrets, herons, gulls. I can remember my mother lifting me up to pick apples. She wore her hair in a long, black braid threaded with cockleshells, and her eyes were green like mine.”

It sounded beautiful. “Where’s your father now?”

“None of us see our fathers. Valac’s father lives on a ship moored near Mount Acidale. Marlowe’s father is dead. So is mine and Nod’s. Are you done with all the questions?”

She swallowed hard. “Sorry to hear about your father.” That was enough interrogation for now. Apparently, Lir didn’t understand the concept of small talk, and she might as well have been jamming knives between his ribs. But at least he hadn’t asked about her own parents.

All the way to the far end of the island and back, they ran in silence, Fiona easily keeping pace. When they returned to where the skiff lay on the rocks, she still had energy. She glanced at Lir, who shook out his legs. The sun had begun to rise, casting a rosy light on the sheen of sweat on his forehead.

She paced slowly, folding her fingers behind her head. “Do you still think I’m soft?”

“It’s too early to revise my opinion.”

She felt great. A runner’s high must have kicked in, because she felt like she could go for several more miles. “That was just a warm-up for me, actually. What do you say we keep going?”

He narrowed his green eyes. “You want to run through the center again?”

“We’ve already done that. How about we run the perimeter? If I’d paid any attention in geometry I could tell you how long that would be, but I have no idea.”

“About six miles. You want to run another six miles? Over the rocks?”

“I do, yes. You know why? Because I’m not soft. Are you?” She could probably just about make another six miles now that she’d rested for a few minutes. At least during track season, a ten-mile run wasn’t out of the question.

He shook his head. “It’s too rocky. You’d risk falling off the side.”

“Mmm. You’re scared.” She had no idea why she was so tempted to poke this beast.

He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Don’t be ridiculous. And don’t expect me to comfort you if you break your spine.” He took off over the jagged rocks, and she soon caught up with him.

The morning sun rose higher in the sky, and by the time they’d run around half the island, she was glad she’d left the leggings behind. Sweat drenched her white shirt.

Lir pulled off his own shirt and slung it over one shoulder. Fiona tried not to stare at his tattooed chest.

As they pressed on, she thought about Atlantis. “Why don’t you just get more recruits from your own land? Why raid Dogtown?”

“Dagon has started to claim more souls. On top of that, the recruits keep killing each other. We’ve run out of Atlantean boys.”

“It must be a sad life, watching all those people die.” She hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

Lir shot her a startled look, and as he did, his foot caught in a crevice. He landed with a grunt, nearly tumbling off the cliffside. Fiona hoisted him up. When he pulled his ankle from the crack, it was already puffy and pink.

She crouched beside him. “Do you think it’s twisted?”

He grimaced. “I have an old fracture. I think it’s broken.”

“I can fix it.” She traced her fingers along his ankle, whispering the mending spell. When she finished, she met his green eyes and he gave a curt nod. That’ll do for thanks, I guess. She rose, holding out her hand to him, and he grabbed it to stand. “Maybe we should walk back,” she suggested, still catching her breath.

“Not a bad idea.”

“Are we going to do this every morning at four? Shouldn’t you be up drinking rum with the other pirates?”

He wiped a hand across his brow. “I don’t drink.”

“Why not?”

He squinted into the rising sun. “That’s how my father and his mates died. Murdered by ordinary humans when they were too drunk to defend themselves.”

A sense of dread washed over her like an oncoming storm. It couldn’t have been a certain ordinary human looking for pirate gold—could it?





26





Fiona





Moonlight glinted on the waves, and every so often, green phosphorescence sparkled under the surface. She couldn’t stop thinking about the dream she’d had about Tobias before Lir had woken her. She couldn’t stop imagining his warm body brushing against hers as they danced. But he wasn’t here now.