Fear the Drowning Deep

Inside, Mam poured tea and made toast, but I said I’d rather go to bed without supper. I’d have to sneak out my window—there was no way Mam and Da would let me out of the house tonight. As I reached the bedroom door, I turned back, watching my parents sip their tea with shaking hands.

For a moment, I considered telling them the whole story. About the fearsome creatures hidden in the deep, and Fynn’s secret. But I knew as I studied their faces, even as they discussed curses and the Little Fellas in hushed tones, that there were certain things people just couldn’t believe until they saw for themselves.

That, and there wasn’t time to talk.

As I slipped into my room and shut the door behind me, Da murmured, “Mureal, where did you put my boots? I’m heading back out to look for Liss myself. Danell Gill and his search party are as useless as a fish trying to walk on land.”

A chill stole over me as I thought of Da rowing his boat into the serpent-infested water. It was all the more reason to hurry.

Hoping Morag’s poison would be ready, I crossed to the window, popped the latch and slid open the glass panel. It would be just a short drop to the muddy ground.

“Where are you going?”

I turned, pulling back my hands from the window ledge. Grayse blinked up at me, half-awake and stretching.

I tried to smile. “To save Liss. And Fynn and Morag, too, if I can manage it.”

Grayse threw back the blankets. “When will you come home?”

“Soon, I hope. Tonight.” I forced a smile. “But I need you to do me a favor.” Grayse bobbed her head. “Good. You can’t tell Mam I’m gone. Don’t even let her in our room. Understand?”

Grayse nodded again, looking more alert as she warmed to the idea.

“If she wants to give me anything—food, tea—insist on bringing it yourself. Tell her I’m exhausted, and I don’t wish to speak with her right now.”

“Can I eat the food?” Grayse widened her eyes hopefully.

“You can eat it all, if you like. Just make sure you get sick out the window, not in here where Mam will have to clean.”

I hitched up my skirt and threw one leg over the window ledge. There was no screen to push away. It had fallen out years before.

“Come back soon,” Grayse whispered.

“I’ll try, little fish. I love you. Tell Mam I love her, too.”

I landed in a cold puddle, spattering mud up my once-white stockings. After a gulp of fresh air, I took off running through the rain, hoping the light would last long enough for me to find Liss.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO



Folk watched my dash up the road. No doubt they’d all heard the gunshot earlier—not to mention the screams—and longed to ask if the gossip was true, or to confirm I’d completely lost my mind. Perhaps I needed to build my own cottage on my favorite hill, just across the way from Morag’s. We could wave to each other from our private mountains, and never have to endure the ogling of those too blind to see danger staring them in the face. They spread fear and speculation faster than flames on dry kindling, and in doing so, they made evil witches where there should have been only magic and wonder and a lonely old woman.

I charged up the hill, the cool rain pleasant on my face until I reached the trees.

Minutes later, I was pounding on the rotting door. “Morag! Open up!” Something rustled inside. “Liss is missing! I found her shawl on the beach. The serpent must have taken her, and now Da’s gone to sea to look—”

“In this weather? At this hour?” The door flung open, hinges screeching in protest. “Has he lost his mind?” Morag’s eyes watered, and an unpleasant odor tickled my nose. It seemed to be oozing from the black paste on her hands.

Before I even opened my mouth to ask, she demanded, “Where’s your glashtyn friend? He wouldn’t have trouble finding your sister, storm or no.”

I ducked under the cover of the dripping cottage eaves. “Fynn was arrested! The missing people all turned up in the harbor. At least, parts of them did. And Mr. Gill thinks Fynn is likely responsible.” I brushed rain and tears off my cheeks. “I’m afraid Mr. Gill and his men are coming for you next. I came to warn—”

“Gill’s an old fool!” Morag drew herself up. “I knew his da once. Not well, mind you, but it’s no surprise his son shares his mulish ways.”

“Then you understand why you have to hide!” I glanced over my shoulder, reassured by the sight of the empty path. “But I need your help first. They’re searching for Liss by land, but we both know I can’t hope to save her without the poison.”

“And it’s ready.” Morag smiled, holding out her messy hands. “Now come inside before you melt!”

“This isn’t a social call!” I stomped my foot, splashing mud in all directions. “There’s no time for tea or cake. I need the poison, and you need to find a hiding place if you don’t fancy spending the rest of your days in prison, or worse!”

“I know,” she answered calmly. “But there’s no sense in getting soaked while I put the poison in a jar.” She made a sweeping motion toward the cottage interior. “Warm yourself by the fire a moment.”

Sarah Glenn Marsh's books