Pulling Cat into a tight hug, I murmured, “It’s all right. There are a lot of things I wouldn’t have believed until recently.”
Grandad told me many stories when I was small, but my favorites were the ones in which clever girls outsmarted dangerous beasts. If he were here, he’d be proud of what I had just done, and that thought made me stand a little taller.
“I know the feeling,” Cat said at last, shivering hard. “Roseen and I were walking on the beach, collecting seashells for Alis’s memorial. Out of nowhere, I heard beautiful music, and the next thing I knew I was in the water. I didn’t even care that I was going to drown. Only the music mattered.” Cat heaved a shuddering sigh. “Then Fynn was holding me while Roseen covered my ears, and you were facing a—what was that thing, Bry?”
Fynn gave me an encouraging nod. Cat needed the truth now.
I gripped her shoulders. “It was a monster. And there are more like it. That’s why I gave you the hideous fishbone necklace.”
She nodded, her eyes round like twin moons. “I still don’t understand how you killed a monster. You were so brave!”
My cheeks warmed. “I didn’t feel brave. And besides, I don’t think killing means you’re brave. I just did what I had to, to keep you safe.” Cat made a soft noise, a sob or a muttered word. “It was Morag that gave me the idea about piercing the monster’s heart with steel. In a way, she’s the reason it’s dead and we’re still here.”
We moved farther up the beach, trailed by Fynn. “I always thought Morag was a horrible old woman,” Cat said softly. “Yet it seems she’s smarter than anyone else in these parts.” Cat gave a weak chuckle. “Now I wish I wasn’t so fond of sweets. Maybe then my mam would have apprenticed me to a witch instead of a cake maker.”
I squeezed her hand and smiled.
It was over. The disappearances would finally end. It was over. Against the vast, uncaring sea, we had won.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
A fist pounded on our front door, jarring me from the memory of watching Mally and Artur’s ship departing the harbor at dawn. I turned away from the hearth where I’d been feeding the flames a bundle of herbs, and Da peeled himself out of his chair. Mam hurried after him, her hands still wet from washing dishes, followed by Grayse.
Mr. Gill stood on our step, his face brighter than a spring radish. “Found—bodies—harbor,” he wheezed, chest heaving.
A thorn of cold jabbed my gut as names and faces flashed to mind: Cat, Lugh, Martyn, even Thomase. But I’d killed the fossegrim. This couldn’t be happening. Unless the serpent somehow …
“Who?” I choked out.
But Da was already speaking. “What are you going on about, Danell? There were murders at the harbor, is that what you mean?”
Mr. Gill brushed aside the gray curls plastered to his brow. “I’ve called a meeting,” he panted. “My house. In an hour. I’ll explain there.” He turned without another word and jogged toward the next house down the row.
“Wait! Whose bodies did you find?” Da shouted after him, but Mr. Gill didn’t glance back. “We have to go to that meeting,” Da said, resting his eyes on each of us in turn.
I nodded, lost for words as I tried to imagine any explanation other than another monster.
Mam’s face turned ashen. “But Peddyr, I don’t know that I want Grayse hearing—”
“I want to go.” Grayse stomped her foot, nearly knocking over the paraffin lamp that sat near the door.
Sighing, Mam leaned against the wall. If the shadows beneath her eyes were any indication, she hadn’t slept well despite draining a mug of Morag’s healing draught. In fact, she hadn’t looked at ease since she examined my arm last night.
Fynn cleared his throat and turned to Mam. “I’ll stay with Grayse so you can attend the meeting, ma’am.”
“You will?” Mam’s eyes brightened. Since learning that Fynn had been the one to bring Cat back to shore, Mam and Da had been treating him like a hero, forcing extra helpings on him at breakfast and shooting him looks of admiration.
“Of course.” Fynn grinned at Grayse. “You can teach me a new game, if you’d like.” Grayse reached for his hand, her pout vanishing. Fynn’s eyes met mine for the briefest moment before he disappeared into the main room, and I mouthed my thanks.
“And you girls?” Mam asked, looking between Liss and me.
Liss started toward our bedroom at once. “I’m going to change. I’ll be ready soon.”
Mam’s gaze shifted to me. “How’s your arm, bird?” She lightly touched just above the salve-stained bandages covering me from elbow to wrist.
“Mally’s salve burns worse than the cuts themselves,” I muttered, “so I think everything’s healing as it should.” I didn’t quite trust that Mam believed the story we’d given her about Cat scratching me in her confusion during the rescue. Still, there were more pressing concerns at hand.