“True, true.”
“Mally’s wedding is tomorrow, but I’ll be back to work after. You should come if your foot isn’t bothering you.” I waited for her reply, but none came. “If you’re not doing anything important, like making serpent poison or …” I hoped she might glance up, at least for a second, but she had returned to studying the dregs of my tea. “I’ll save you a place at the family table.”
Hoping Fynn hadn’t taken me at my word and dived where I could not follow, I opened the door to the golden afternoon.
Morag’s trembling, whispered thank you followed me.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
There was a chill to the wind as I started down the hill. I rubbed my arms and peered at the horizon. Great columns of clouds, fluffy as churned butter, yellow-white as cream, glided toward town. The clouds’ black bottoms warned of a spectacular storm to come in the evening. As I rushed homeward, I said a silent prayer for Da to hurry back from the day’s fishing.
I crossed a strawberry field that had long since gone wild, green and gold grasses swishing against my skirt. From a distance, the town looked deserted, but I narrowed my eyes and scanned the shadows for dark hair and the faded blue of Da’s old shirt.
Where could Fynn be? Still on the beach, wrestling with whether to leave? Sitting up in a tree again, where it would take hours to find him?
I darted through the dwindling afternoon market. Aside from two women stuffing skeins of colorful yarn into baskets, the square appeared to be empty. Most of the pie-sellers and fishmongers had gone home early, no doubt to guard their families as dusk fell.
I waved to the two women, though neither returned my gesture, then hurried toward Ms. Katleen’s tavern. It had been Ms. Elena’s until three years prior, when Ms. Katleen inherited the place from her mam.
With the sun slipping from the sky, fishermen would already be filling the tables, their voices loud, their cups overflowing. A fisherman seemed the most likely to have seen Fynn, either sitting on the beach or slicing through the waves.
I was steps from the tavern doors when fingers closed over my wrist.
“Let go of me!” As I attempted to twist free, I met Lugh’s dark green eyes and gasped. The hand gripping my wrist released me.
“I’m sorry.” His voice softened, and he held up his hands—surrendering to what, I wasn’t sure. Like Morag, he seemed older than when I’d last seen him, though there were no lines creasing his face. It was in the set of his shoulders and an unfamiliar hardness in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to startle you, Bridey. I just wanted to see you, and you’re a tough lass to find lately. If you aren’t running errands for the witch, you’re off somewhere with the comeover. You never stand still anymore.”
“That’s not fair,” I said, biting my lip. “I’ve tried to visit since your mam went missing. All you had to do was open the door.”
Lugh turned, bringing his face close to mine until our noses touched. “You’re right. I didn’t want to see anyone. You understand.” When I nodded, he swallowed. “But you’re not exactly the girl I used to know, and I miss her. I thought—I thought you had felt the same way about me.”
I lowered my gaze, feigning interest in a discarded handkerchief being pushed across the ground by the wind. He had a point. Before Fynn’s arrival, when I’d thought of embraces, lips locked, hearts racing, I’d thought of Lugh. But not anymore.
“He’s stolen my heart,” I blurted. “I’m so sorry.” Heat crept into my face as I watched the handkerchief twirl. “I used to think about us, too. Rather a lot. But I can’t change how I feel. If Fynn had never come here …”
Lugh touched my cheek. “You don’t understand, Bry. It’s all right if you don’t want to be my girl, but that doesn’t mean you can stop being my friend.” His eyes glistened. “Cat misses you, too. She hasn’t been right since Alis disappeared.” He shook his head. “You still matter to your friends, no matter what the rest of this stupid town thinks. I only hope you can say the same of us.”
I tried to form words, but my throat resisted. Instead, I threw my arms around him. Lugh stiffened, but after a moment, his hands pressed against my back.
“I’ll be a better friend. Just give me time.” My insides writhed like I’d downed a bucket full of Morag’s beloved snigs. “Everything’s been so strange lately.”
Lugh’s sigh gusted through my hair. “I know. Nothing’s felt right since that girl washed up on the beach. I keep hoping my mam and the others will turn up one afternoon with a grand excuse for where they’ve been, but I know they won’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“They’re gone. Dead. I can just feel it.”
“Oh, Lugh.” I laid my head on his shoulder, like I’d done countless times since we were small, and willed myself not to cry for his sake. “I miss them, too.”