Fynn’s head bobbed near a group of large rocks, then disappeared. The moments stretched in agonizing silence broken only by the cries of gulls and the rumble of waves.
I shouted Fynn’s name until I was hoarse. The edges of my vision dimmed, tunneling toward the spot where he’d vanished beneath the waves. How long could a person breathe underwater? Something had surely grabbed him.
I rushed into the surf, hitching up my skirt. Chilly water surged around my knees as the black fin I’d seen so many weeks ago in the harbor glided toward shore. Shuddering, I stumbled back, coating myself in sea foam. I trained my gaze on the beach, knowing my panic made me easy prey.
Halfway across the beach, I tripped on a mound of shells, and landed facedown in the sand. I spat out a mouthful of grit, taking heaving breaths as I scrambled to push myself up.
Something crashed near the water, louder than the meeting of water and rock—a snort from some foul creature’s mouth, followed by the muffled smack of feet against wet sand.
I turned as a hulking black horse lumbered out of the waves, shaking white foam off its sleek coat. Blinking, I pinched my arm.
The horse was still there, half-submerged in the waves and staring at me with luminous, dark blue eyes. This ghastly creature looked nothing like the chestnut horses I’d met on my aunt’s farm. Its ears were twice the length of a normal horse’s, thinner and pointed. The creature’s forelegs ended not in hooves, but in webbed flippers. More webbing covered the bends of its legs, and gills lined its neck. White scars shone on the creature’s belly, and a large, round fin rose from its back.
The glashtyn from Morag’s book and Mam’s paintings.
I tried to scream, but only a croak came from my throat. The beast tossed its curly, black mane and slapped a flipper against the sand, displeased by my broken sound. The waves receded, revealing the creature’s dolphin-like tail.
Even though I knew it couldn’t rush to attack me, I staggered back and nearly fell again as the creature gave a strangled cry, more like a man’s gasp than a horse’s whinny. It appeared to be shrinking, muscles rippling and twisting into another form. Flippers became fingers, the giant tail divided to form legs, and the mane became a mess of familiar dark curls.
I shut my eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. I’d finally done what the good folk of Port Coire assumed I had so long ago: lost my mind. When I dared to glance at the beast again, it was no longer standing there. Shivering in its place was Fynn, naked as the day I found him, wide-eyed and dripping.
“Monster,” I stammered.
He shook the water out of his hair. Da’s bathing suit must have been ruined during his transformation. He started toward me, worry creasing his forehead.
But for every step he took, I scrambled back. He’d been lying to me this whole time. I didn’t want him anywhere near me.
“Bridey,” he said quietly. “I’m still the same person you—”
“You lied to me! You’re not who I thought you were at all!” Fynn winced, but the hurt look on his face was nothing compared to the agony he was causing me now. “You’re no better than the fossegrim.” I bit my chapped lip, suppressing a sob.
“I’m a glashtyn, but I’m no monster.” He stopped advancing. Sea-dweller or not, at least he had enough sense to leave me be. Blood leaked sluggishly from his deepest wound, and to my dismay, seeing his pain still caused my stomach to clench in sympathy. “The serpent your mother keeps painting—it tried to kill me the day I washed up on this beach.”
Glashtyn. Ms. Elena had told Cat’s mam that the glashtyn liked to drown girls. And Fynn had pretended he didn’t know the word when I’d asked about it.
My head spun. “You drowned that poor girl who washed up on the beach, didn’t you? And Nessa? Eveleen? Alis? Lugh’s mam? You were just blaming the fossegrim for your murders! Where are their bodies? Why didn’t you take me, too? Oh, God.” Tears spattered the front of my blouse as I thought back to our day at sea. How swiftly and surely he’d picked me up and carried me into the waves.
He could have been planning to steal me then, like the others.
Fynn clutched at his chest. “I didn’t drown anyone! I don’t know why the fossegrim came here when I did. I’d never even seen one before it attacked us. But the serpent fought me, and I nearly died. It was fair fortune that I landed here with you, and not on some other shore.” He swallowed, then reached out an imploring hand. “You saved my life. Truly. And my heart is yours, if you want—”
“Don’t you dare say you love me.” A shrill laugh escaped my lips. “It seems we know nothing of each other.” The voice echoing in my ears didn’t sound like my own. “And don’t come near my family. Go back where you belong! I never want to see you again.”