Or maybe that was more Gaelic—it was hard to tell.
Turning to look over her shoulder, Nolie saw Bel standing at the stern of the Bonny Bel, her eyes fixed on the island they were leaving, and Nolie twisted to do the same.
The fog was closing behind them quickly, but just before it did, Nolie caught once last glimpse of the light burning at the top of the lighthouse.
And then the fog drifted, hiding all of it—the island, the lighthouse, the girl still drifting in its halls—from sight.
CHAPTER 32
“SO HOW WELL DO YOU THINK SIR WOOLINGTON IS GOING to adapt to America?” Bel asked as she put the stuffed sheep in question into Nolie’s backpack.
“There’s going to be an adjustment period, for sure,” Nolie replied, “but I feel like his cute accent is going to take him far.”
Bel smiled even as her throat hurt, looking at Nolie’s bags packed and placed against the wall of her bedroom. Her flight wasn’t until tomorrow, but it was, according to Nolie, “so early it’s actually inhumane,” so she was getting her things together this afternoon. Bel hadn’t spent all that much time in Nolie’s room, but it still looked so empty to her with all of Nolie’s things packed away.
She thought that Journey’s End was going to feel a little empty when Nolie was gone, too.
“You’re going to email me every day, right?” Nolie asked, going to sit on the edge of her bed. She was wearing a long-sleeved green T-shirt with a red tartan heart on it, the green nearly the same color as the wellies she was wearing with her jeans. Nolie still had the purple wellies, of course, but about a week ago, she’d said she wanted one pair of “proper Scottish boots” before she left.
Sniffing, Bel zipped up the backpack. “’Course I am,” she said. “Now that I know where to find the best Wi-Fi in all of northern Scotland.”
Nolie grinned at that, then picked up her phone. “Speaking of,” she said, turning it for Bel to see.
There were, according to the screen, twelve texts in Nolie’s phone, and Bel had a good feeling who they were all from.
“Ready to go?” she asked, and Nolie nodded.
“Let me grab my coat.”
Downstairs, Nolie’s dad was sitting at the kitchen table. His laptop was open next to him, but he wasn’t looking at it. Instead, his head was bent over a book, a steaming mug of tea at his elbow.
“Hi, Dad!” Nolie sang out, but when she saw what he was reading, she came to such a sudden stop that Bel nearly crashed into her.
“Dad,” she said, and he looked up, his eyebrows raised over his glasses.
“What?” he asked, a little sheepish, and Nolie’s face broke out in a big grin.
“You totally stole my book, you thief!” Nolie exclaimed, coming around to sling an arm over her dad’s shoulders and read the page in front of him. “Learning all about the myth of the Minch, huh?”
Nolie’s dad looked up at Bel and winked. “Let’s just say that after certain events, I’m maybe a little more curious about this stuff.”
Smiling, Nolie straightened up and walked back to Bel. “Mmm-hmm,” she said. “Gonna have your own show here by next summer, all decked out with night-vision cameras and EVP recorders, hunting down Nessie.”
“Never,” Nolie’s dad joked, but Bel saw him dog-ear his page before he asked, “You girls headed out? Need a ride anywhere?”
Nolie shook her head, pulling on her jacket. “We’re walking down to the village,” she told her dad, and he nodded, glancing out the window. The day was bright and sunny, the hills surrounding the village emerald green, the sky a dazzling blue. “Be back by supper,” he told Nolie. “I was thinking fish and chips for your last night here.”
“And I am thinking that’s a genius idea, Genius Dad,” Nolie said, and her dad gave her a little salute before she pulled Bel toward the door.
Once they were outside, Bel shoved her hands in her pockets and glanced over at Nolie. “Things seem good there,” she ventured, and Nolie shrugged.
“They were never bad, I guess,” she said, “but yeah, apparently saving Dad from a magical fog island has been good for our general father-daughter bonding.”
That made Bel laugh, and the two of them headed down the hill to the city center. The Boundary was still there, hugging close to its rocky island, and Bel kept an eye on it as they walked. The Bonny Bel was out there, too, white against the dark water and blue sky, and even though no one on board could see them, Bel waved.
Things had been good at home for her, too. The story of the boats disappearing into the fog had created enough of a stir that tourism had never been bigger in Journey’s End. Bel’s mum said she thought it would all die down by the fall—especially since the town was purposely keeping the story kind of murky—but ever since July, things had been busier than ever, the Bonny Bel adding two extra trips to its usual rotation just to keep up with demand.
And it was positively mad once they were in the village proper. Cars everywhere, people walking around carrying the bright yellow plastic bags from the McKissick family’s shop everywhere she looked.
“Oh, wow,” Nolie said, nodding across the way at Gifts from the End of the World. “Check that out.”
The line was out the door now. Earlier, it had been so crowded in the shop that Bel had nearly knocked over a rack of postcards.
“I know,” she told Nolie. “It’s been like that all weekend. Mum said we’d actually sold out of Sir Woolingtons.”
“Oooh, so now he’s a collector’s item,” Nolie joked, and then she stopped, lifting her chin a little. “Wait, do you need to go help her? Your mum, I mean. With the store that crowded—”
Bel cut her off with a shake of her head. “Nope. Mum gave me the day off, what with it being your last day and all.”
“That was nice,” Nolie said, “especially considering that I thought she was going to ground you for life.”
Bel’s mum had been frantic when the boats had come chugging back into the harbor after everything on the island. As soon as she hadn’t been able to find Bel after the meeting, she’d had a feeling the two of them might have headed off to the Boundary themselves. Bel was pretty sure it was only the fact that everyone had come back all right, Jaime and Dad included, that saved her from being banned from ever getting near the beach again.
“She knew I wanted to get as much time with you as I could,” Bel said. Then, afraid she’d get all choked up again, she tried to shake off any sad feelings.
“So what dance are we betting on?” she asked, dodging around a family all wearing those same Nessie hats she’s gotten for Al. “The one with the arm thing?” Bel would’ve demonstrated if she weren’t afraid she’d knock someone about the head. “Or the one with the jumping?”
“Hmmmm . . .” Nolie pretended to think it over, pressing one finger against her chin. “I think he’s going to surprise us today,” she finally said. “Break out something totally new.”
“A special farewell-to-Nolie dance?” Bel asked, and Nolie laughed, breaking into a quick little dance of her own, jumping so that her feet crossed one way, then the other.
“Something like that, maybe?” Nolie suggested. “Really capture my spirit.”
They were both laughing when they got to the arcade, and sure enough, there was Al, dancing his pants off.
He didn’t have as much of a crowd this time, but then, over the past few weeks, Al dancing at the arcade had become a pretty common sight.
“He beat the high score again,” Leslie said, coming up to stand next to them. She was holding a plastic bottle of soda, her long dark hair in a low ponytail.
Bel smiled at her, and Leslie smiled back, a little shyly. They still weren’t back to what they had been before—maybe they never could be—but after the meeting and everything that had happened on the island, things had gotten better.
“After all,” Be
l had told Nolie just a few days ago, “if Cait can forgive the entire village for killing her, I think I can forgive Leslie for dumping me for Alice.”
Alice was still around, just spending more time with Cara than Leslie now. Bel wasn’t sure what things would be like once they were all back at school, but for now, it was good, and Bel was happy with that.
Not as happy as Al, though, grinning at the machine as he hit another step, his feet almost a blur on the pad.
The song ended, and Al raised his arms over his head in triumph. He was wearing jeans today, and a long-sleeved white T-shirt. His hair was a little longer, falling over his ears, and he just looked so . . . normal.
And cute, Bel had to admit.
He was going to be a regular fixture in the village now. He was living at Maggie’s, the story being that he was her nephew from Inverness, come to stay with her. How long that would work, Bel wasn’t sure, but for now, it was a good solution for Al, and he was definitely enjoying the twenty-first century. Maggie was teaching him how to use all those computers and tablets at her place, and just last week, she’d bought him an Xbox. It was a wonder he’d made any time for Bel or Nolie at all after that.
“I’m glad he’s staying,” Leslie confessed in a near whisper, and when she wandered off closer to the dance machine, Nolie slid in next to Bel and asked, “Are you ready for Al to be Journey’s End’s very own boy band?”
Bel nudged Nolie with her elbow. “I’m not the one with a crush on him,” she said, and for once, Nolie seemed to have nothing to say, her mouth going slack, her cheeks flaming as red as her hair.
Giggling, Bel walked over to Al and draped her arms over the bar on the side of Dance Your Pants Off USA. “Bested a new routine, I see,” she said, and Al looked down at her, pushing his sweaty hair back from his face.
“I don’t think there are any more dances to do,” he said, and then hopped down from the machine, his eyes scanning the crowd for Nolie. She was still hanging back, but when she saw him looking for her, she waved, and Al waved back, smiling, before his expression turned a little more serious.
“What is it you say when something isn’t any good at all?” he asked, and Bel thought for a second.
“I’d say it was rubbish. Nolie would probably say it was a ‘bummer.’ What would you have said?”
“Would’ve said it was a nasty jar,” Al said immediately, and Bel snorted.
“That’s terrible,” she said, and he gave a shrug, shoulders rolling underneath his T-shirt.
“Gets to the heart of it, though. Nolie leaving is a nasty jar.”
“And rubbish,” Bel agreed. “A nasty jar bummer of rubbish.”
That made Al smile, and then Nolie was walking over to them. “What are y’all talking about?” she asked, and Bel answered, “Nasty jars.”
Nolie pursed her lips, tilting her head to one side. “Do I even want to know?” she asked, and before either Bel or Al could answer, she jerked her thumb at the door. “Come on,” she said. “If everyone is done dancing their pants off, I want to get some ice cream.”
The lorry was where it always was, and all three of them got a soft-serve cone before heading back up the hill out of the village. They didn’t talk as they walked, just enjoying each other’s company, and Bel tried not to think about how tomorrow, it would just be her and Al.
Once they’d reached the cliffs over the town, the spot with the best view of the Boundary, Nolie sat cross-legged on the grass, and Bel followed suit. Al still stood, holding his cone with one hand, the other shading his eyes.
“This is going to sound stupid,” Nolie said, “but it doesn’t look scary now.”
Bel watched the fog clinging to its island, rolling softly, but not spreading any further.
“No,” she said. “It doesn’t.”
She thought of Cait, still in there, but knowing that the town knew what it had done was wrong. Maybe feeling some kind of peace.
Leaning against Nolie, Bel said, “Do you think she’s okay?”
“As okay as a ghost can be,” Nolie said, and then Al came and sat on Nolie’s other side.
“What are we going to do next summer,” Al asked, “that can possibly live up to this one?”
Nolie and Bel both turned their heads to look at him. “Al,” Nolie said. “Do not tempt me to spend all year researching some other kind of supernatural mess we can get involved in next summer. Because I will do it, my friend.”
Al smiled, then crunched into his cone. “There’s always Nessie,” he said. “So we might see if my hat matches the real thing.”
“Blue men of the Minch,” Bel suggested, once again resting her head on Nolie’s shoulder. “Or the Wulver.”
“What’s that?” Nolie asked, and Al answered, saying, “Oh, I know that one!”
“Werewolf,” Bel clarified, looking back out at the sea. The sun was sparkling on the water, the sky still blue. “Leaves fish for people.”
Nolie burst out laughing, nearly choking on the bite of ice cream cone she’d had in her mouth. “Okay, yes. Yes, I want to solve the mystery of the Fish-Leaving Werewolf. I vote for that for our summer project next year.”
“Or we could come visit you,” Al said. “Sure there’s plenty to do in America.”
Nolie nodded, wiping her sticky hands on the grass. “Haunted houses of Georgia. Could work.”
The three of them were quiet for a long time after that, staring out at the Boundary, all lost in their own thoughts. Tomorrow, Nolie would be gone, and life would go back to normal for Bel.
Well, not really normal. What they had done had changed Journey’s End, but it had changed Bel, too. She had rescued her brother and dad, lit a magical lamp, and talked to a ghost. And maybe she’d always been comfortable being in the background of things, but that didn’t mean she had to stay there.
Even if she didn’t really want to go after a Wulver.
“I’m going to miss you,” she said softly, and Nolie tilted her head back with an “Argghh.”
“You’re going to make me cry,” Nolie told Bel, and sure enough, her eyes looked bright again.
Wordlessly, Bel hugged her friend, and after a minute, Al—Al, who had been weird about talking to girls when they first met him—wrapped his arms around Nolie, too.
“Hey,” Nolie said from the middle of the hug. “This isn’t really good-bye, you know. Once you’ve battled killer fog together, you’re bonded for life. It’s even better than summer camp for that.”
And then she pulled back, looking first at Bel, then at Al. “So no matter what, we’re a team now, right?” She laid one hand palm-up on her knee.
Al nodded, placing his hand on top of hers. “A team.”
Bel looked at both of them, then back out at the Boundary again. For the rest of her life, whether it was here in Journey’s End or somewhere else out in the world, she’d remember the three of them rowing out into that with nothing but faith and each other.
And she laid her own hand on top of Al’s. “A team.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
THANKS AS ALWAYS TO MY WONDERFUL TEAM AT PENGUIN! Anna Jarzab, Katherine Perkins, Rachel Lodi, Elyse Marshall, and Tara Shanahan, I am so lucky to get to work with you, and I appreciate everything you do for me and my books.
Holly Root and Ari Lewin, thank you for believing I could write something without kissing or fire, and for encouraging me every step of the way. I am forever so grateful to have both of you in my corner!
Theresa Evangelista, your gorgeous cover showed me things I didn’t even know I loved about this book, and that feels like its own kind of magic.
Thanks, too, to Victoria Schwab for going to Edinburgh with me, and for pointing out that a pub called At World’s End seemed like a good sign that this wacky Scottish middle grade about a far-off spot might actually work.
Dave Edwards and Gwyneth Jo
nes, thank you so much for being such wonderful hosts during our Hawkins Family Does Scotland Summer!
As always, thanks to my wonderful family, who have let me drag them to John o’ Groats twice now in search of this book. I love you guys!
Journey's End Page 19
