Fear the Drowning Deep

“The men always go to the church first, Grayse,” Liss said impatiently.

“But I’m bored!” Grayse swung her osier wand, and the supple willow branch swished into Fynn’s leg with a thwack.

He shouted something that made Da chuckle and Liss blush. Clutching his leg, Fynn struggled to keep his balance. I tried to disguise my smile with a sudden fit of coughing.

Grayse sniffled and dried her tears. She glanced shyly at Fynn and mouthed, Sorry.

Da thumped Fynn on the back. “We’d best leave before one of us loses a limb, aye?” Grinning, Da opened the door allowing in a gust of warm, sultry air and stepped outside.

“I’ll be there shortly,” Fynn called. He turned to me. “You look beautiful.” He’d never sounded so cautious with me before. His hangdog expression made his angular features appear softer than usual.

After checking that Grayse and Liss were occupied, I put my lips to his ear, inhaling the scent of spring that clung to his skin. He must have borrowed Da’s ancient bottle of aftershave. “Cheer up. This is a wedding. You’re supposed to be happy.”

“I’ll be happy if you forgive me.”

“I’m trying.” The trouble was, when I pictured kissing Fynn again, the image of him in his sea-monster skin flashed to mind. I shivered.

Fynn gave a strained smile, then slipped out the door. For once, I wasn’t entirely saddened to see him go.

Minutes later, Mally emerged from the room that would now be mine. My pulse quickened at the sight of her in Mam’s wedding gown. Over the years, it had faded from pristine white to buttery ivory, but she looked radiant with waves of her honey hair cascading down her back.

“Isn’t it gorgeous?” She twirled around the main room, a butterfly in flight.

“Yes,” I managed, despite the leaden feeling in my stomach. “Artur will be speechless.”

Seeing her in the gown made Mally’s imminent departure a reality. She would go to England tomorrow, taking the boat ride I had dreamed of for ages. We had dreamed of. I wasn’t ready to watch her leave.

“Ready, bird?” Mam snapped her fingers, calling my attention. “What’s that you’re wearing?” Frowning, she touched the string of my Bollan Cross, but the high collar of my dress hid the charm.

“It’s a necklace.” I turned away from her and hurried down the hall. “Give me one more moment!”

The extra crosses from Morag rested in a jumble on our dresser. Perhaps I could convince Mally to wear one on her journey tomorrow. I pulled three crosses from the pile and rushed back to the main room.

“Here.” I offered a cross each to Liss, Mally, and Mam, who gave me identical blank looks. “They’re necklaces. I thought it would be nice if we wore them to the wedding, to show we’re family.”

“Everyone knows that already.” Mally took a necklace first. “It’s a bone.”

“Aye. But it’s pretty, right?” I dangled the second Bollan Cross in front of Liss until she took it from my hand. “Put them on.”

“I don’t know. They’re kind of horrible,” Liss grumbled, but she and Mally slipped the crosses over their heads. After a strange, almost startled look at me, Mam did the same.

“Let’s go!” Grayse urged.

As we neared the church, time seemed to speed up. We walked three circles around the churchyard with Artur’s attendants, a tradition I’d never understood. Then we stood by the altar inside the stuffy sanctuary, listening to Pastor Quillin’s voice rise above the sniffles of the small crowd as he blessed the couple.

Only about half the residents of Port Coire lined the pews.

“So many are missing,” Liss whispered, leaning in. “Probably all friends and relatives of Mally’s former beaus.” She frowned. “Never mind them, though. She doesn’t need their approval to enjoy her day.”

I made a faint noise of agreement, but I knew better. Not even the gossips would miss an opportunity for dancing and feasting. They’d slurp our broth and gorge on our geese while muttering behind their hands.

No, those who had chosen not to attend the ceremony were avoiding me.

Mrs. Kissack was notably absent, though one of her friends nudged another woman’s shoulder and glanced my way. The women exchanged a look and shook their heads, but I fixed a smile on my face and focused once again on Mally and Artur.

In a blink, the ceremony was over and the guests rose to their feet. Applause echoed off the church walls as folk tossed hats and handkerchiefs into the air. The Cretney boys threw the wedding horn, and Grayse tossed her wand. It was a miracle no one lost an eye.

Fynn stood in the front row of onlookers keeping a healthy distance from the Gills. I was surprised they’d even bothered to come. I shook my head at them, then pretended to glare at Fynn until he acknowledged me with a grin.

In so many ways, he was still the boy I’d come to know. And yet …

Our neighbors sucked in their breaths, heads turning toward the altar. I glanced up just in time to witness Mally and Artur’s first kiss as husband and wife. He dipped her to the floor in his enthusiasm and nearly dropped her.

Sarah Glenn Marsh's books