Mam returned to the table, another cup of tea in hand. She took her seat as the door banged open and Da trudged inside. Mam’s hand trembled, sloshing tea over the side of her mug. “Peddyr, is Alis—?”
“She’s gone. We found some small footprints near the cliffs, but that’s all. We searched everywhere.” Da grimaced. “Either the Little Fellas are angry, and they’ve put a curse on the town, or a madman is preying on our daughters.”
Stunned silence followed his words.
“In all my years, I’ve never …” Da bowed his head. “As I was leaving, her mam found her cardigan in their yard.”
Mam took Da’s arm. “Come now, you and the others did all you could …”
“Maybe we ought to leave out bigger cakes, so the Little Fellas won’t take our girls,” Da muttered darkly. “It might help to show Them more respect.”
I stared at my parents. Da—strong, practical, fair-minded Da—wanted to appease the fairies. Nothing was right anymore.
“Peddyr, that’s enough! I don’t want to hear any more talk of unnatural things.” Despite her words, Mam’s face was as pale as Da’s. “Let me fix you some strong tea.”
The moment Mam steered Da into the kitchen, I rushed to the door with Fynn close behind. Given how miserable I felt, Cat was surely feeling far worse. She’d stood up for me in the market, and now it was my turn to support her.
“Where are you going?” Liss called.
“Cat’s house,” I answered as Fynn pushed open the door.
A light rain began as we came within sight of the low sandstone building. The sensation of Fynn’s large hand joined with mine was quickly becoming familiar.
Even more familiar was the red-haired figure standing near Cat’s door. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, seeming to welcome the cold drizzle rolling down his face.
“Morning, Lugh.” I tugged on Fynn’s hand to slow our approach. “Has there—has there been any more news about the search for Alis?” The words sounded hollow, but I’d suddenly been transported back to the night of our kiss. The obvious was all I could think to ask, especially with Fynn still holding tight to my hand.
“Oh!” Lugh shook the water from his shaggy hair and blinked. “Morning, Bry.” He smiled faintly, but it faded when he looked at my hand clasped with Fynn’s. His gaze shifted to the lad beside me, all traces of his smile vanishing. “You must be Bry’s new friend. The comeover all the lasses are sighing about.”
“I go by Fynn. I’m sure Bridey’s mentioned that.” He narrowed his eyes but extended his free hand to Lugh.
Lugh flexed his fingers at his sides, staring at Fynn’s hand until he lowered it. “Actually, Bridey hasn’t told me anything about you. You’re the reason I’ve barely seen her lately, I assume.” He moved closer, bringing his face inches from mine. “Tell me, have you forgotten everything that happened before he came around?”
I dropped Fynn’s hand like it might burn me.
“Of course not!” I stared at the curve of Lugh’s jaw, unable to raise my eyes higher. “Don’t be ridiculous.” I dropped my gaze to the mud.
“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.