Submerging (Swans Landing)

by Norris, Shana

  * * *

  “Callum?”

  He lay on the mattress, a blanket tangled around his legs. He still didn’t have a prosthetic, to keep him from trying to escape, I guessed. At the sound of my voice, Callum lifted his head and half-turned toward the doorway where I stood. His eyes were hollow, dark circles lining both of them. He looked thinner and paler. Even his red hair looked duller than it had before.

  I rushed across the room, kneeling next to him. “Are you okay?” I asked. I felt Josh’s presence over my shoulder and heard his sharp intake of breath when he saw Callum.

  “I’m fine.” Callum’s voice was raspy. He licked his dry lips. “What are you doing here?”

  “We came to see if you’re all right,” Josh said. “Sailor demanded Domnall let us see you.”

  Callum raised his eyebrows. “And he actually agreed?”

  “Not by choice. But he wants information from us, and he hopes I might give it to him if he lets us see you.”

  Callum’s face darkened. “He wants to know where you came from, doesn’t he?”

  I nodded. “He keeps asking that I tell him where our people are. Why does he want them so badly?”

  “He’s delusional,” Callum said. He laid his head back on the mattress and closed his eyes, as if the conversation had exhausted him.

  I glared over my shoulder at the guard in the doorway. It wasn’t Artair, but it was one of the guards who had been there when Josh and I were locked in the room too. “Has he had any water lately?” I asked.

  “He is brought food and water three times a day,” the guard told me, scowling. “It is his own fault that he does not eat.”

  My head whipped back toward Callum. “Why aren’t you eating?”

  Callum croaked a laugh. “Why should I? To extend my solitude in this room? I’d rather die quickly, if you don’t mind.”

  I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him hard. “You’re not going to die,” I said through clenched teeth.

  He cracked one eye open and looked at me. “You may be able to order Domnall around, but you can’t do the same to me.”

  I huffed an exasperated sigh, then pushed myself to my feet. I marched toward the guard, my hands on my hips. “Bring me a cup of water,” I said.

  The guard looked back at his companion who stood in the hall. Neither of them said a word.

  “Now!” I shouted. “Saltwater. As salty as you can make it.”

  I thought I might have to throw an epic Sailor Mooring tantrum to get them to listen, but finally the guard in the hall disappeared. He returned a moment later, carrying a metal cup filled with water. Artair arrived at his heels, his face stern as he surveyed the room.

  I took the cup and then went back to the mattress. Josh sat on Callum’s other side and he helped me get Callum into a sitting position. I pressed the cup to Callum’s lips, but he wouldn’t open them.

  “Drink,” I ordered.

  Callum didn’t move.

  “You should not waste your time on him,” Artair said from behind me. His heavy footsteps thudded across the floor as he drew close. “If he wants to die, let him. He is condemned anyway.”

  I gritted my teeth, but didn’t look at him. “Go away.”

  Artair didn’t move. I felt him watching me as I pressed the cup harder against Callum’s lips. “Drink,” I said again.

  “He is a murderer,” Artair said. “He has turned against the teachings of his people. He has no right to live.”

  “Leave us alone,” Josh said, his voice low and growling. “If you want to be in here, offer some help. Otherwise, you can go.”

  “He is not worth your concern,” Artair said.

  Callum opened his eyes and looked back at me. They were a dark green, so void of the life and sparkle they’d had back in Westray. He didn’t look like himself at all. I pushed a lock of red curls off his forehead, surprised at how cold his skin was. I hated that we’d left him here to end up like this.

  I leaned forward until my lips were next to his ear. Artair still hovered over us and I didn’t want him to hear me. These words were for Callum alone.

  “You helped me, now I’m going to help you,” I whispered. “If you don’t drink, I’ll pour the whole damn glass over your head. I’ll personally carry you outside and hold you under the water until you drink every last drop from the Atlantic Ocean.”

  When I pulled back, Callum had cracked a smile. “Is that a promise?” he asked.

  “Drink.” I put the cup to his lips again and this time he did drink, gulping down every drop of the water until the cup was empty. Josh eased him back down to the mattress and Callum sighed, panting heavily.

  “You have seen him,” Artair said. “You should leave now.”

  I wanted to scream at him for his unconcerned tone, but I knew it wouldn’t do any good. If anything, it might put Callum into even more danger here in this place. I needed Domnall’s kindness in order to save Callum from starving himself.

  “Promise me you’ll eat and drink,” I said. “I don’t want to find you like this again.”

  Callum looked slightly better already, but still ghastly pale. My hair fell over my shoulders and he reached up to twist a lock of it around his finger.

  “Does that mean you’re coming back?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Tomorrow. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

  He smiled. “Then I’ll eat. And drink. Because you asked me to.”

  I stayed like that, leaning over him, my hair twisted in his fingers. Something tickled across my scalp, a feeling I couldn’t explain or identify. I had to resist the urge to place my hand against his cheek, brushing back his hair as I had before.

  “Sailor,” Josh said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “We should go.”

  I nodded, pulling back reluctantly. When Callum’s hand fell away from my hair, an ache filled me as if something were missing.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  My only real glimpse of the finfolk village had been during our arrival and march through town as prisoners. It had looked strange and frightening, all of the unknown people staring at us.

  Now as Josh and I walked toward the village square, I could see it was small, much smaller than I had originally thought. A few of the homes and shops looked abandoned, their windows and doors boarded up and sagging roofs hanging over them. Others had already half-crumbled into the water, while the ones that still stood were old and decaying.

  It took every bit of willpower I had to not run straight back to the palace as we stepped into the village square, which was an open expanse of beach circled by homes and small shops. It was a warm, sunny day unlike the gray days before it, one of those days that begged to be enjoyed outside. A gentle breeze drifted in from the ocean and birds circled overhead. The sunny day had brought the people out of their homes. Some looked as if they had been swimming, their hair still dripping and leaving wet paths down their robes. Merchants had set up tents in the center of town and had wagons full of various fish and produce. Others sold jewelry made from seashells and sea glass.

  I spotted Artair within the crowd and my stomach clenched. I scanned the area around him to see if Domnall was there too, but Artair stood with a woman and a small girl. His face had lost its usual frown and instead he looked relaxed. The little girl lifted her arms to him and Artair scooped her up, tickling her sides as he did.

  I clenched my teeth together and turned away from the scene. Following Josh further into the market, I forced myself not to look back at Artair and what I assumed to be his family.

  At first, the looks were only quick glances. Some people watched out of the corner of their eyes, while others glanced at us and then quickly away. But then I felt the gazes on my back, staring hard as I passed. When I looked over my shoulder, I found groups of people watching us, their expressions tense.

  Josh stopped at a cart displaying seashell jewelry. “Doesn’t this look like something Mara’s dad would make?” he asked, pointing to an intricate bracelet
.

  I glanced at the bracelet, then scanned the watching crowd again. I couldn’t tell whether Josh hadn’t noticed the stares or if he had chosen to ignore them.

  “Um,” I said softly. “Maybe we should go back to the palace.”

  “How much is this?” Josh asked the merchant, ignoring me.

  The man was old, his skin brown and weathered. His clear blue eyes flickered between the two of us for a long moment. Then he said, “It is not for sale.”

  Josh frowned. “But I thought—”

  “You don’t have any money anyway,” I snapped. “Come on. We’re wasting our time.”

  “For trade,” the merchant said. “We trade here.”

  Josh nodded. “That makes sense. What do you trade for?”

  The man leaned forward, his eyes wide. “I want a story,” he whispered. “About the lost ones.”

  “A story?” I asked.

  “We know you are not from near here,” he said. “We want to know where the others are.”

  A sickening feeling settled into my stomach. Did Domnall have spies all over this village, all hoping to get the same information out of us?

  I grabbed Josh’s arm. “Come on,” I ordered.

  “No!” The merchant reached a hand toward me, but let it drop when I stepped back. “I did not mean...” He shook his head. “I am sorry. I should not ask these things.”

  He picked up the bracelet and offered it toward Josh. “Take it.”

  Josh shook his head. “I can’t—”

  “Take it,” the man urged.

  His gaze flickered to a point over my shoulder and then his expression changed into something fierce. He hurled the bracelet at Josh, hitting him in the chest. “Take it and get out of here! I have no business with the likes of you.”

  The man’s change in behavior seemed strange, until I turned and found Artair standing behind us. He was alone and no longer smiling and relaxed like he had been moments ago. Now he scowled down at us, his spear gripped tight in his left hand. The guard’s stiff demeanor would make me angry too.

  “Why are you not at the palace?” Artair asked.

  I crossed my arms. “Are we supposed to stay there all day?”

  “Domnall has seen that you have everything you need,” Artair said. “You should not be here, bothering our citizens.”

  “We’re not bothering anyone,” Josh told him. “We’re exploring the village, trying to get to know the people here.”

  Artair’s eyes flashed at this. “And what exactly is it you hope to learn?”

  “What are you afraid we might find?” I challenged.

  Artair didn’t say anything for a moment, then he held his shoulders back and stood straighter. “You should return to your suite before you make a nuisance of yourself. We are a peaceful people, and we do not take kindly to interruptions in our daily routines.”

  I snorted and rolled my eyes. “Yes, I’ve seen how peaceful you all are.”

  Artair scowled and he lowered his spear slightly in my direction, an unspoken threat. “It is my job to protect the people of this island,” he said. “I will see to it that my job is carried out, in any way necessary. Now, I will ask you one last time to return to your suite.”

  My hands curled into fists and I glared up at Artair. But Josh put a hand on my shoulder to hold me back. “We’re going,” he said.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “What are you doing here?” I wrinkled my nose at Domnall, who stood on the beach near the waiting boat. I had asked Artair earlier that day if he could take me to the peninsula again, but I hadn’t been prepared for Domnall’s presence. It was bad enough seeing Artair after our encounter at the village square the day before.

  “I thought I would join you today.” Domnall gave me his charming smile, which only made my stomach twist in nervousness. Whenever I was at the palace, I stayed in our suite as much as possible. I could feel Domnall watching me whenever I roamed around the halls or the grounds. He was always in the shadows or looking down at me from a balcony or window. He rarely spoke, just watched. If it wasn’t for Callum still being locked away in the palace, I would have left long ago.

  Josh helped me into the boat, both of us ignoring Domnall’s outstretched arm. We had talked about Domnall’s watching me, and neither of us felt comfortable with him.

  The boat rocked slightly as Artair rowed out into the bay. I kept my gaze focused on the crumbling homes that dotted the peninsula ahead of us, though I felt Domnall’s presence behind me. I knew if I looked over my shoulder, I’d find his blue eyes locked on me.

  The boat slid into place next to the dock, and I climbed out as soon as it had stopped, not waiting for Artair to tie it off.

  “I want to go in alone,” I said.

  “But—” Josh started.

  I shook my head, cutting him off. “It might be easier for her if only person is there at a time.” I knew Josh was getting impatient to ask his questions. But what would be the point? She wouldn’t remember anything anyway.

  Josh and Domnall followed me toward the village. When I reached the door with the lily carved into it, I took a deep breath and then stepped through, knocking softly as I entered.

  Mama sat at her desk again in front of the window, only this time she wasn’t bent over the papers in front of her. She sat straight in her wooden chair, her hands clasped together in her lap and her face turned toward the window. Through the glass, she had a great view of the ocean. White-capped waves rippled across the surface far offshore and birds dove and arced through the air above the water. The ever present mists rolled toward the horizon.

  “Mama?” I knelt next to her, putting a hand gently on hers. The warmth and solidness of her body gave me comfort. She was thin, and the skin of her face hung loose and dull. But she was here and not an image created by the finfolk song. If I looked closely, I could see her resemblance to Grandma. They had the same wide blue eyes and curving nose.

  She didn’t look away from the window, but she spoke. “I think I’ll go swimming today,” she said. “I haven’t been in a long time.”

  I couldn’t tell if she knew where she was. Or even what day it was.

  “Maybe down by the pier,” she went on. “I always like jumping off the end.” She laughed. “Sometimes I do it when the tourists are fishing. It always startles them.”

  My shoulders slumped. She was obviously still confused. The pier she spoke of was probably the Swans Landing Pier, which had been broken during a hurricane ten years ago and never repaired. No one fished there anymore, not that many tourists even came to our island at all these days. Not like they used to, in Grandma’s stories about the old days, before my father died and before everything changed.

  “Mama, it’s me,” I said gently. “It’s Sailor. We’re not in Swans Landing, we’re in Hether Blether. Do you remember coming here?”

  She turned her head toward me, blinking slowly as if trying to focus on my face. “Sailor?” she asked, her brow wrinkling. “That’s a pretty name.”

  I smirked. “You should think so, you gave it to me.”

  Mama suddenly sat up, shuffling the papers on her desk into a messy stack. “I forgot I have to work at the store today. Daddy is expecting me.”

  She stood and walked across the room to an old wardrobe, pulling open the door and pushing through the couple of robes that hung inside. They were old and shapeless, much like the brown one she wore.

  “Mama,” I said. “It’s okay. You’re not working today.”

  But she didn’t listen as she searched through the clothes again. “I promised Daddy I would work there this summer,” she said. “He was so happy when I said I would.”

  It was strange to hear her speak of her father. I knew Jim Moody was my granddaddy and I knew he loved Grandma. But he had never spoken of my mother to me and Grandma never mentioned him except when she talked about the variety store he owned and where she worked sometimes. Jim—I had never been able to call him Granddaddy—rarely ever s
poke to me.

  Mama seemed to have already lost this train of thought and she returned to her desk, sitting down and sorting through her papers. They were drawings, mostly of the ocean or trees or birds. I stood next to her and gently touched her shoulder as she shuffled through each sheet. She didn’t flinch or move away at my touch, so I left my hand there to feel some kind of connection to her, even if she didn’t know who I was.

  When she moved one paper to the back of the stack, the drawing on top made me gasp. It was the narrow strip of beach at Pirate’s Cove, back in Swans Landing. The beach was accessed by a narrow path that wound through the forest of live oak trees on the southern end of the island. It was small and mostly overlooked by anyone who didn’t know Swans Landing well. It was the only place where finfolk could swim without being seen by anyone else.

  “You remember,” I said to my mother. I pointed to the picture. “You know this place.”

  “Pirate’s Cove,” she said. She stared down at the drawing in her hand, her mouth turned into a frown. “I used to go swimming with him there. It was our special spot.”

  My heart pounded against my ribs. My knees threatened to buckle and give out. I eased myself down until I squatted next to her. Did I dare ask her the question on my tongue? I didn’t want to push her, but I had to make some progress.

  “Mama, do you remember what happened to Oliver Canavan?” I asked.

  “He...” Mama’s mouth trembled. “I didn’t mean...He shouldn’t have been there.”

  “What happened?” I asked gently. “Please, Mama, it’s important. Can you remember what happened the night Oliver died?”

  Mama’s eyes turned toward me. They were wide and her face was pale. “Oliver is...dead?” she asked in a small voice.

  “Mama—”

  But already her eyes had taken on the vacant look. She shook her head, whipping her hair back and forth. “No. No, no, no!”

  At her shout, the door burst open and Josh ran into the room. He skidded to a stop, staring down at my mother. She still sat in the chair at the desk, but now she was shaking violently and screaming “No!” over and over.