Fynn picked up his knife and fork, chopping his supper into sloppy portions. “I thought you wanted me to stay away from your family.”
I reached for his hand but drew back before our fingers touched. “I’m still angry you lied, but I understand why you did. You knew how I’d react.”
He gave a small smile. “Just my luck that I fell for someone who can’t stand the sea. You’re well within your right to hate me.”
“I don’t, though. Knowing your secret hasn’t changed what I feel for you.” Except, when I looked at him now, I saw the beast, too.
Something Mam had said weeks ago echoed in my thoughts, chasing away my vision of his glashtyn form. “Besides, the Corkills don’t turn their backs on anyone. Your place is with us. That is, if you still want it.”
Fynn raised his eyes to mine. “Of course I do. I haven’t been sleeping on your sofa all this time out of a love of rocks and trees.” With a grin, he stole a piece of my lamb. “This isn’t half bad.” He hovered over my plate, perfectly poised to steal a kiss. I bent forward, tipping my chin up. Fynn’s breath hitched. If I moved another fraction, I could kiss him.
But not today. I drew back. It wasn’t Mrs. Gill’s threatening words, or the looks of the men at the bar that made me lower my eyes to my supper. Anger was still simmering in my veins. It would take more than the space of a meal to forgive Fynn for keeping so much hidden from me, even if he had his reasons.
As we ate, my mind wandered back through the summer’s many strange events before Fynn turned up. The drowned girl. Nessa Daley’s disappearance. The false pearl in Da’s nets.
“I have one last question.”
Fynn paused, a forkful of fish halfway to his mouth.
“The day after the girl washed ashore, I found a giant pearl on the floor of Da’s boat, and I saw a fin that looked a lot like yours. Was that—?”
“Me.” A smile lit his face. “I saw you protecting Grayse from the birds.” Fynn dropped his gaze to the berry bonnag between our plates. “Even before I lost the will to hunt, I thought you were beautiful. Warm and light. The kind of beauty a creature like me, from the cold and the dark, can only hope to grasp for the briefest moment before it slips away like water through human fingers. I just wanted to give you something pretty.”
“Then why did the pearl turn into a rock that evening?”
Fynn passed me a slice of bonnag without meeting my eyes. “Nothing from the ocean is meant to survive on land forever.”
Suddenly, I wasn’t hungry anymore.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The blast of a horn roused me early the next morning. Though its clarion cry was familiar from wedding days past, it sounded shriller than usual. More like a dying seal than a call to celebration. I leaped out of bed, tripped over the edge of our rug, and banged my hip against our bedside table.
“Happy Thursday!” Grayse chirped, throwing back the covers. Liss groaned in her sleep. “Lucky, lucky Thursday!” Grayse’s hazel eyes held no trace of tiredness, as though she’d been awake long before the horn blew. “Ready to be a bride-maid, Bridey?”
“Maybe tomorrow.” I yawned, shuffling over to the window and rubbing my smarting hip. The sky was still a canvas of indigo night and silvery moon, save for a thick line of orange smeared across the horizon. All of Port Coire’s fishermen were taking to the water, their boats gliding silently toward the open sea like ghosts retreating into obscurity.
There was no sign of a phantom fiddler hovering over the rocky waters.
As I drank in the star-studded view of the cliffs and our neighbor’s chicken coop, memories of yesterday crashed over me like the breaking waves. Fynn the glashtyn. Morag’s fear of the serpent. Mrs. Gill’s hateful words.
Another burst of noise sliced through my pounding head. I flinched and turned to Grayse. “Do you know who Mally charged with sounding the horn?”
Grayse’s eyes narrowed to mischievous slits. “The Cretney boys.”
I shook my head. “I should have known.” I was finally alert thanks to the shrieking horn, and while I didn’t feel much like celebrating, it was time to get ready.
Mam had hastily altered one of her old dresses for me. The rosy gown adorned with tiny pearls was like something from a fashion magazine, and Mally pinned a glittering hair-slide behind my ear to secure my fancy knot of braids. Still, gazing at my reflection in all its finery, I couldn’t summon a smile.
Perhaps I was simply frustrated that there wouldn’t be time to look for the fossegrim, or something metal to kill it with, before the wedding began.
The morning passed in a haze until Grayse, Liss, and I gathered by the door to watch Da and Fynn depart for the church. We each held a thin, reddish osier wand identifying us as Mally’s bridesmaids. Judging by the muffled argument that could be heard from the back of the house, we would have to wait a while on the nervous bride.
Tears splashed down Grayse’s cheeks as Da and Fynn slipped on their shoes. “I want to go with them!”