Ashes on the Waves

by Mary Lindsey

  “You! What are you doing here?” Her eyes darted up and down my body. “Where did you get those clothes?” The look of horror on her face mirrored my own.

  “Anna gave them to me.a gave to mmy I backed up against the dryer.

  “How dare you! You have no right. No right to be here. No right to wear his clothes.” She was shaking all over. “You have no right to exist. Get out!”

  She shoved me hard and I almost lost my balance.

  “Get out and don’t come back. Stay where you belong!” she screamed.

  The Bean Sidhes began to wail at that moment and I was overcome.

  Miss Ronan’s voice was barely discernible over the creatures’ keening. “She doesn’t really love you. She’s only passing the time while she is here. You’re not good enough for her—you and I both know that. Go back to your pitiful little life and stay away. You’ve done enough harm already. Now go!”

  23

  Our first impulse is to shrink from the danger. Unaccountably we remain.

  —Edgar Allan Poe,

  from “The Imp of the Perverse,” 1845

  Silence!” I shouted. To my amazement, both Miss Ronan and the Bean Sidhes obeyed. “You hold no power or authority over me, Brigid Ronan.” We stared at each other, breathing hard, for several moments.

  “Heed my words,” she warned, eyes narrowed.

  “Heed your words? Your words have tortured me my entire life through the villagers’ mouths, but they no longer frighten me. I believe it is you who is frightened.” I took a step toward her and she shuffled backward away from me. Something inside me rejoiced at the tiny bit of ground I’d won. “Until Anna tells me otherwise, I will remain.”

  “Liam! Are you still in the laundry room?” Anna called from somewhere in the house.

  “Yes,” I shouted.

  Miss Ronan’s lips pulled into a tight line. “This is a dangerous game, MacGregor. You will lose her and your life as well. Get out of this while you can.”

  “I wasn’t aware we were playing a game.” I ran my hand through my hair. “My life is meaningless without her, so death would be welcomed if you’re correct.” I took another step closer and lowered my voice. “We both know what’s on the line for me, but what do you stand to lose, I wonder.”

  Her eyes widened, perhaps from fear. I hoped so.

  “Hey,” Anna said from the doorway. “Everything okay in here?”

  “Perfect,” I said, not taking my eyes off Miss Ronan. “Everything is just fine.”

  “Great. Well, um. I have the supplies.” Anna looked from me to Miss Ronan. “You sure everything’s okay?”

  “Positive.” I put my arm around Anna in a possessive display that wasn’t wasted on Miss Ronan. She got my message loud and clear. She stormed from the room and I reveled in yet another tiny triumph.

  “What was that about?” Anna asked, slipping out from under my arm.

  “I’m not exactly sure yet. It was as if she thought I were someone else until she saw my face.”

  “That’s weird. Who?”

  “Your great-uncle, I believe.”

  “Well, I gu gave ="-1ess that rules her out as the murderer.”

  I took the portfolio from her. “At this point, I don’t believe we should rule anyone out.”

  “Whoa. Listen to you, Sherlock.”

  “I would rather be—” I lifted an eyebrow. “Bond. James Bond.”

  Her grin was gorgeous. “You can be anybody you want to be. Who should I be?”

  “You.” I set the portfolio on the table. “Never anyone but you.”

  Her lips were warm. I thought for a moment my knees would give way when she ran her hands down my back, only a thin layer of silk between her touch and my skin. Time stopped every time she held me. Anna made me better. She made me whole.

  “You damn well better let me in or I’ll tear your eyes out!”

  Francine! I pulled away to listen.

  “She sounds really pissed off,” Anna said, retying the sash on my robe.

  I hadn’t considered how the shed burning would affect her. She might think me dead. Anna pulled me by the hand through the kitchen toward the entry hall, where we found Francine in a standoff with Miss Ronan.

  “Oh, lad. There y’are.” Her accent was thicker than usual. “I knew you hadn’t perished in the fire because there were no bones, but I worried you might have been called by the sea.”

  She shoved past Miss Ronan and joined us in the narrow hallway to the kitchen. “You were called by something else, though, I see.” She winked and Anna grinned. “We need to talk,” she said in a whisper. “Somewhere else, if you know what I mean.”

  Anna nodded. “Let us get dressed and we’ll be right out.”

  “I’ll wait outside.” Francine eyed one of the claw-like wall sconces and shivered. “This place gives me funny feelings.”

  The jeans and T-shirt were still warm from the dryer when I pulled them on. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live in this kind of luxury every day.

  I found Francine sitting on the porch bench. “Anna’s not out yet,” she said. “It’s going well, then?”

  I nodded and sat next to her.

  She nudged me with her shoulder. “How well?”

  “Extremely well.”

  She gave an exasperated sigh. “You’re not going to give me any details, are you?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Your new clothes look good on you.” She patted my jean-clad leg.

  I placed my hand over hers. “Thank you again for everything. The clothes, the friendship. I’m sorry about your shed.”

  “Don’t think on it.” She stood. “You had no control over that. I’m just glad you weren’t in it. Got any idea who lit the fire?”

  “It could’ve been any one of them.” I shrugged. “Everyone on this island wants me dead except for you and Anna.”

  “And your pa.”

  “He’s just like them.”

  She shook her head. “No, Liam. He’s a mess over this. He came by the store this morning looking for you. He was covered in soot from searching for your bones in the ashes.”

  “So he could celebrate with thebrthise rest of them.”

  “No.” She took my face in her hands. “Don’t get hard like them. People change.”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath of the morning sea air.

  “You’re better than that. Stay above it like you always have.” She released my face.

  “It’s hard,” I said. “I finally have something good in my life and it’s as if everything in the world is conspiring to take it away.”

  “So you fight for it.”

  Anna stepped out onto the porch like a ray of sunshine. She wore blue jeans and a bright yellow blouse. “You owe me a drawing, Liam,” she said, patting her handbag. My metal pencil box and sketch pad peeked out of the top.

  I followed her down the porch steps. “No. You owe me one. This one is mine, remember?”

  Francine caught up and led us down the cliff-side trail.

  * * *

  Muireann had spent the night and early part of the day watching the female’s large dwelling. She had seen her Liam go in last night but had not seen him come out until now. He was healthy and sound and still with his female. She made a celebratory twirl in the waves. The Na Fir Ghorm had lost this round, or at least they had so far.

  “Where have you been?” Keela asked, swimming up from behind. “Mom’s worried sick.”

  “Like you care.” Muireann ducked under and swam closer to shore before her sister could tell how hurt she was. She had spent the worst night of her life, regretting the fact she put her pod in danger and worrying about her Liam. It was the first night she’d ever spent away from her family, and all Keela could do was lay on more guilt.

  “Still stalking the human male, I see. Maybe you should just shed your pelt and get this out of your system,” her sister said, popping up next to her.

  “I’ve had enough
of you,” Muireann said. “They tried to kill him last night. Look at the cliff where his dwelling used to be.”

  Her sister looked up at the cliff. “Yep. All gone. You need to take a break from lusting and come tell Mom you’re okay.”

  Muireann couldn’t believe her sister’s hard-heartedness. “Why don’t you tell her you wouldn’t let me join the pod to sleep last night? That should clear it up just fine.”

  “Your selfishness astounds me.”

  “Really? I was just thinking the same thing.”

  They stared at each other for a while, neither willing to back down.

  “I have some news for you,” Keela said, “since you are obsessed with this human.”

  Muireann wasn’t sure of her sister’s motive, but if it could help her Liam, she needed to hear it. “What is it?”

  “Agree to come with me to let Mom know you’re okay and I’ll tell you.”

  “Fine,” Muireann agreed.

  Keela paddled a few yards in the direction of Seal Island. “Come on, then.”

  “No. Tell me first.”

  “You don’t trust me?”

  Muireann shook her head. “After last night? Not for a second.”

  A look of hurt crossed Keela’s face. “I’m sorry.”

  Muireann heaved a sigh of relief. She’d never been at odds with anyone before and it made her insides churn. “Me too.”

  They swam in a tight circle, putting their chins on each other’s necks in a Selkie hug.

  “So, the news?”

  Keela met her sister’s eyes directly. “The Na Fir Ghorm are meeting after sundown to plan the next test for your human and his mate. They say it is a test of faith. It will be initiated before sundown.”

  A test of faith . . . “Is that all?”

  “No. The human who set fire to the dwelling delivered an item to the Na Fir Ghorm last night. He took it before burning the dwelling.”

  “What was it?” Muireann asked.

  “I don’t know. It looked like a blue stick.”

  Muireann had no idea what the Na Fir Ghorm were planning, but she would do whatever it took to protect her Liam. She had to find a way to eavesdrop on that meeting tonight, even if it meant another night away from her pod.

  * * *

  We heard villagers’ voices before we saw the shed, or what was left of it.

  “Look, a fork and knife,” a woman said.

  “Don’t pick it up,” replied a male. “It’s been touched by a demon.”

  “But it’s been purified by Bealtaine fire,” said the woman. “Surely it wouldn’t be infected still, and we need another set at home.”

  They were picking through what was left of my possessions. I would have expected this to anger me, but it only brought sadness.

  When we rounded the turn, Polly’s, Edmond’s, and Deirdre’s startled expressions met us.

  “Busted!” Anna whispered in my ear.

  Deirdre was off to the side while her parents stood in the charred remains of my home. The wood was all reduced to ashes, but the stove and bathtub, completely covered in soot, appeared to have survived.

  “Hello, Polly and Edmond,” Francine said as if nothing unusual had occurred. “What brings you here this morning?”

  I smiled inwardly at Francine’s casual, veiled accusation.

  “We, um . . .” Polly replied. “We were on our way to deliver Deirdre to Taibhreamh.”

  “We stopped here to see if there was anything to salvage.” At least Edmond was honest.

  “I imagine anything made of metal is still intact,” Francine replied. “The shed was little and the fire couldn’t have lasted long enough to melt anything. Why, look. There’s a knife and fork. Why don’t you take them? Liam won’t need them anymore. He’s going to live there.” She pointed to her aunt’s house. “And it is fully stocked.” She gestured to the knife and fork with her chin. “Go on. Take them.”

  Edmond flitted a glance to me only briefly before scooping up the knife and fork. “Thanks. Come on, Deirdre.”

  The girl joined her parents at the top of the trail.

  “Hey, you start today as my personal assistant, right?” Anna called.

  Deirdre nodded.eirail.< “Yes, miss. Thank you.” She grinned and ran after her parents.

  I stood in front of the rubble. Nothing was left of the bookcase, bed, or table. The eight cinder blocks that had supported the shed remained in place. The tub was a bit askew and the stove had fallen to its side when the boards burned out from under it. I felt no sadness, no all-too-familiar ache of loss, as I would’ve expected.

  “They were stealing,” Anna said. “Why did you let them have the knife and fork?”

  Francine strolled around to the back of the shed remains. “For the same reason you have the girl coming to Taibhreamh today.”

  “She needs help,” Anna answered, shifting something in the ashes with her toe.

  “They all do. Of all the families on Dòchas, they are the most in need. Edmond lost his boat and has no other way to make a living. I’m hoping now that Johnny has passed, maybe Liam’s pa will take him on. If not, they might not make the winter.”

  Anna pulled her hair back and tied it in a knot at the base of her neck. “That’s tough. Wouldn’t someone help them?”

  “We’re all just trying to stay alive. The people here are proud. They will not take handouts if doing so will harm the donor.”

  Anna shook her head. She had never been subjected firsthand to abject poverty, and certainly the concept was hard to reconcile with her upbringing.

  “I appreciate your generous offer, Francine, but can’t accept it,” I said.

  Francine put her hands on her hips. “You’d best not be talking about this house that has stood empty for these last months since my aunt died, Liam MacGregor, or I’ll take a switch to your backside.”

  Anna giggled.

  “You’ve given me too much already.”

  She cocked her head. “Then where are you going to live? With James Callan?”

  Pa would probably kill me within a month, but I had no choice. I nodded.

  “You could move in with me,” Anna suggested.

  “Miss Ronan would love that plan,” I said. “Besides, you’ll be leaving soon, and I’d be back in the same position.”

  “You are so dense sometimes. I don’t plan to leave as long as you are here.” She took my hand. “So you’ll just have to come to New York with me and get off this island forever.”

  “I couldn’t possibly . . . I’d be—”

  “That’s a lovely idea,” Francine said. “But for now, you are moving into my aunt’s house and I’ll have no more discussion on it. Understand? I need to get back to the shop and don’t have time to dillydally with you.” She climbed the porch and opened the closed house. We followed.

  “I really like her,” Anna whispered.

  “So do I.”

  Francine opened all the windows, and she and Anna set about shaking out curtains and dusting furniture while I mopped the floor with my special mop and bucket Francine had evidently brought up from the store on her way to Taibhreamh. It was waiting in the center of the room when we came in. The house had a separate bedroom, which was bigger than my entire shed had been.

  From the doorstep, Francine gave a round crocheted rug one last shake. “I would have offered to let you move ilety entin here when my aunt died, but I knew you enjoyed the tie to your mother in the shed.” She placed the rug just inside the door. “And I didn’t want to give anybody more reason to cause a fuss. You living in a nicer place than some of these villagers would have invited their ire.”

  “I believe that invitation was extended eighteen years ago,” I said, wringing the mop in the bucket. “But you’re right. I was comfortable in the shed.” I carried the bucket out the door, tipped the water out, and set the mop and bucket upright.

  “Also, unlived-in houses decline quickly. You’re doing me a favor, see?” Francine pulled a set of sheet
s out of a chest in the corner of the bedroom. The bed was much wider than mine had been. It dawned on me as I helped her make the bed just how exhausted I was. I hadn’t slept last night.

  “So, you are all good now, right? I put some food in the cupboard for you, but you’ll need to collect some firewood.” Francine picked up the mop and bucket. “I’ll see you soon. Our next delivery doesn’t come until day after tomorrow, so feel free to take off work until then.”

  I put my arm around her shoulders. “I can’t thank you enough. I’d be long dead if it weren’t for you. You’re better to me than I deserve. Better than a mother.”

  She sniffed and shrugged out of my hold. “Be good to him, Anna,”

  she said. “They don’t come better than this.”

  “I know,” Anna said, kissing Francine good-bye. Finally alone with me, she leaned back against the closed door and gave me a look that made everything inside me stir. She reached up and untied the knot from her hair and shook it free. Without a word, she strolled to the bedroom and, from the doorway, delivered a smile that left me gasping for air.

  “I’ll be right there,” I said, washing the mop water off my hand in the kitchen sink.

  Heart pounding, I entered the bedroom. The curtains were closed and from a small gap between them, a single shaft of golden light shone across Anna on the bed. I slipped off my shoes and padded closer. She lay on her side fully clothed, her glorious hair fanned out on the pillow, fast asleep.

  I reached into her handbag on the chair and pulled out my sketch pad.

  24

  And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

  Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before.

  —Edgar Allan Poe,

  from “The Raven,” 1845

  The best sleep I’d ever had ended with earsplitting pounding on the door. “MacGregor! Do you got the Leighton girl in there?” a man’s voice shouted.