Chapter Twenty-three
Anna showed up the next morning and served breakfast as though nothing had happened. I wondered whether she’d decided that the deaths in Foyers had satisfied the Caonaig’s ghoulish requirement.
I watched her surreptitiously, hoping that the fragile thing that had sprung up between us hadn’t changed and that she’d still let me help with the rooms, but I had to wait to find out because Ellis and Hank were still there.
Neither of them said a word about their rooms having been put straight. Instead, they sputtered indignantly about why everyone thought it was all right to judge them when clearly Blackbeard was as fit as anyone else except for his missing digit, which just as clearly didn’t prevent him from shooting a gun. They said all this right in front of Anna, as though she didn’t exist, and I cringed with embarrassment. She was at the far end of the room, sweeping the hearth with a broom made of sticks. She acted impervious, but I knew she wasn’t.
I had almost given up hope of them ever leaving when George the Vannie showed up.
“I’ve oiled yon door for you,” he said, glancing bashfully at Anna and swinging it back and forth. “Yesterday afternoon when I came back.”
“That’s very kind of you,” she said, without looking at him.
He stared openly for several seconds, and from his stricken expression I could tell he was in love with her.
“Well, I’ll be waiting outside then,” he said to Ellis and Hank.
“We’ll be right out. Oh, say, do you still have a compass?” Ellis asked, turning to me. “We’re missing one.”
“It’s in my right coat pocket,” I said. “Hanging by the door.”
He went over and rifled through it.
“When did you go into botany?” he said, looking into his palm. He came back and dropped a handful of the red and fawn toadstools on the table. “Throw these out. They look noxious.”
There was a flurry of activity as they got on their coats and hats and gathered their equipment. When the door finally closed behind them, the only sound was the rhythmic swish of Anna’s broom against the stone floor.
I wanted to start a conversation and figure out where things stood, but even though Hank and Ellis had left, their presence lingered like a cloud of soot.
Anna finally glanced up and said, “Those are elves’ cups you’ve got there. They’re not poisonous, but they’re also not tasty. They dry well, if you want to keep a bowl in your room.”
“I’ll do that. Thank you,” I said.
“So what is wrong with them?” she asked.
I didn’t have to ask what she meant.
“Hank is flat-footed and Ellis is color-blind.”
She raised her eyebrows. “I see.”
“It’s true. He can’t tell red from green—it’s all just gray to him. He didn’t even know before he tried to enlist. There’s absolutely nothing he can do about it, but people don’t believe it. They think he’s making it up. That’s why we’re here—he thinks that finding the monster will force people to recognize he’s not a coward.”
“Does he now?” she said, and went back to sweeping.
For a moment, I could think of nothing to say. I realized I was finished making excuses for either of them.
“I suppose you’ve heard what they said to Mr. Ross last night.”
“To who?”
“Mr. Ross. Angus.”
She laughed. “Angus is a Grant. What on earth gave you the idea he was a Ross?”
“The sign,” I said. “It says A. W. Ross. And then on our first day here, you told me that he ran the place…”
“He does run the place, but the proprietor is Alisdair. Angus is just holding down the fort until Alisdair gets back from the Front.” She leaned the broom against the wall and put her hands on her hips. “Have you thought that all along?”
Someone knocked on the door, a solemn, slow rhythm.
Anna frowned. “Well, I don’t like the sound of that. Not one bit.”
She wiped her hands on her apron and answered the door. Willie the Postie was on the doorstep, holding his hat in his hands. His face was gray.
“And for what reason are you knocking, Willie?” Anna said in an angry voice that did nothing to mask her fear. “The door’s not locked. Come in then, if that’s what you’re wanting. I haven’t got all day.”
“I’m very sorry, Anna,” he said without moving. “But you need to go home.”
“What are you on about? I see nowt in your hands but your hat.”
“You need to go home,” he repeated quietly. “I’ve just delivered a telegram.”
Anna’s knees buckled. She reached for the doorframe.
I shoved my chair back and rushed to her, grabbing her by the waist.
“Your parents need you,” Willie said. “Go to them.”
She caught his wrist, gripping it so tightly her knuckles turned white.
“Which one was it?” she said frantically. “Tell me that much.”
“Anna—”
“Was it Hugh or was it Robbie?”
Willie’s mouth opened, but it was a few seconds before he spoke. “ ’Twas Hugh,” he finally said, lowering his gaze.
She dropped his wrist and twisted free of me. She took a step backward, shaking her head, her eyes wild. “You’re wrong. It’s not true! It’ll be like Angus! You’ll see!”
Willie shook his head helplessly. “Anna…”
She took flight, bursting past him and out the door. When I tried to follow, Willie caught my arm.
“Let her go,” he said.
He was right. I had no business intruding. When he realized I wasn’t struggling anymore, he loosened his grip.
I craned my neck past the doorframe and saw Anna pedaling furiously away, her bicycle jerking from side to side with the effort, her hair flying in the wind.