Lugh shrugged. “Mr. Gill and the others have been searching for Nessa for days now. If she didn’t run off—”
I shivered and cut in, “If Mr. Gill has put together a search party, he doesn’t think she ran off. He thinks—and so do I, for that matter—that some terrible fate’s befallen her.”
“Or he’s trying to remind everyone what a strong leader he is by solving a problem that doesn’t exist.” Lugh must have noticed me frowning. He hurried to add, “I’m sure she’ll turn up eventually. With a babe in her arms and a long apology for her husband. He—”
A deafening crash erupted over the water, much louder than the usual meeting of wave and rock. Almost a thunderclap, or what two prows colliding must sound like.
Lugh gave a shout of surprise, dropping baskets as he threw his arm out to create a barrier between me and the sea far below. The crash reverberated in my ears as we spun to face the water. I scanned the ocean for the source of the noise, my lips shaping a hurried prayer that Da wasn’t anywhere near this stretch of sea.
“There,” Lugh said, pointing straight out from the cliff.
It was difficult to see much in the gathering dusk, but a large area of water had clearly been disturbed. Whitecaps rippled out from the spot where a creature’s dark, scaly flesh sank beneath the waves. In a blink, it was gone.
“Did you see that?” I demanded.
“See what, Bry?” Lugh’s brow furrowed as he studied the sea. Whatever had made the noise had either disappeared or blended too well with the shadowed, murky water.
“There’s nothing out there.” Lugh peered into my eyes, concerned. “Someone must have lost his catch.”
“I don’t think a broken net or a boat running aground would make that much noise.” My hands shook as I clutched the custard.
Perhaps Lugh was right. Perhaps I’d imagined the creature. All the recent talk of death and disappearance was stirring up memories of the phantom I thought I’d seen when Grandad had died. The glistening black scales diving back into the deep moments ago had been nothing more than the trick of the cruel sea, just like the misty phantom.
I swallowed hard. “We should be going. Our families will be waiting.”
“Thinking about your grandad?” Lugh made no move to pick up his baskets, slipping an arm around my shoulders instead.
Though his chest blocked my view, I couldn’t help stealing glances at the sea. I half expected something to leap out of the water, soar up over the cliff, and grab me. “More about what made that sound.”
Lugh pulled me closer. “It was just a storm going out to sea. The waves were probably made by dolphins. Everyone’s on edge, between the best fishing spots running dry and that poor girl’s death.”
I set the custard down and leaned into his side. The scent of fresh-baked muffins wafted past. Lugh had visited the bakery with me earlier, and sweetness seemed to find him and cling like a second skin.
“I promise we’re safe here, Bry.” His fingers brushed my cheek. “You’re still so pale.”
“I’m fine,” I lied, forcing myself to stand taller. “I just … realized how much I’ll miss you when I move off this miserable rock.” The moment I said it, I was struck by how true it was.
He dipped his head, drawing so close our lips almost touched. “Then don’t go. No one’s making you leave. And maybe”—his breathing quickened, and his heart thudded in his chest so hard it was drumming against mine—“maybe there are things worth staying for.”
Then his mouth was on mine, hot, damp, salty. His chapped lip grazed my soft one, making me shiver, and I clasped my shaking hands behind his neck to keep him where I wanted him. Tangled up with me.
When we finally broke apart, Lugh was grinning. A moment later, when I caught my breath, so was I.
Then my gaze traveled back to the black water stretching toward the horizon, and my happiness ebbed away like the waves.
“We really should make sure everyone’s all right.”
I repeated Lugh’s explanation about the crash to myself as we walked, but though his words should have reassured me, they only unsettled me further.
“Come on, Bry. You made it this far. You can’t give up now!” Lugh called. He was standing on the beach under a cloudless sky, hands on his hips, feet buried in the white sand.
Despite catching a glimpse of something odd in the water the night before, despite my vow to Morag that I wouldn’t set foot on the beach, Cat had persuaded me to accompany her and Lugh on their trip to the sands. They thought—and I reluctantly agreed—that it was the best place to search for whatever had made the crashing sound. Evidently, the strange noise had been so loud that many in town had heard it through their windows, and I wasn’t going to sleep again until I proved to myself that it wasn’t anything more than a wrecked ship.
“Just a few more steps and you’re there,” Cat said through gritted teeth, tugging on my hands.