Submerging (Swans Landing) (9 page)

My fingers twitched, itching to dance over the strings. It had been so long since I’d played that the calluses had worn off my fingers. I clenched my hands into fists and buried them in my lap.

“You should join them,” said a voice behind me.

I didn’t look up, but I recognized the lilting brogue. “I don’t play,” I said.

“Liar.” Callum eased himself onto another stone near mine, stretching his legs out in front of him. “I see the way you look at them. Let’s see if I can guess what you play.” He tapped his chin as he grinned. “The bagpipes? You have enough hot air for it.”

I shot him a glare before turning my back to him.

“No,” he said, “I imagine you to be something with a bit more life to it. Something wee and feisty. Like...the fiddle.”

I stiffened, but I didn’t acknowledge his guess.

“Looks like your brother fits right in.”

“Only because he’s good at being something he’s not,” I said.

“Maybe he isn’t pretending. Maybe that is exactly who he is.”

I sneered. “He can walk around on land and pretend to be human all he wants. But if they knew who he really was, they’d never accept him.”

“You think so?” Callum asked.

“Finfolk don’t belong in the human world,” I said. “Once we get to Hether Blether, he’ll realize that.”

Callum’s face was half-hidden in shadows, but I could make out the grim line of his mouth. “You might want to wait until you reach Hether Blether before deciding that. Things might not be as you imagine.”

I laughed. “They can’t possibly be any worse than Swans Landing. You don’t know what I’ve been through, what humans have put me through.”

“And you don’t know what finfolk have put me through,” he said solemnly.

We stared at each other for a long moment, until the band began to play again and their music drifted toward us. The rain earlier in the day had lifted to reveal slightly cloudy skies. People passed by, strolling leisurely as they enjoyed the evening. The wind was chilly, but it felt refreshing in my lungs.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

Callum shrugged. “I had nothing else to do.”

“So you thought you’d come harass me.”

He laughed. “Don’t think so highly of yourself. I often come to listen to the music. They know a lot of old songs, ones that have been passed down through the generations.” When I didn’t say anything, he added, “Ones that aren’t entirely human in origin.”

I understood what he meant. The musicians had played a song earlier that had almost sounded like the music of breaking waves in the ocean. The humans might not know what the song was, believing it to be an old folk song, but any finfolk knew where it had really come from.

“Do you miss your home?” I asked.

“Do you miss yours?”

I thought about home, which made me think about Dylan. My chest ached as I pictured him. He had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. Everything I knew about Swans Landing was wrapped up in Dylan Waverly.

But I didn’t want to tell Callum about Dylan. I didn’t want to try to explain what he was to me, or what he might have been if things had turned out differently.

“I miss my grandma,” I said. “I worry about whether she’s okay.”

“What about the rest of your family?”

I stiffened. “I don’t want to talk about my family.”

Callum nodded to where Josh was listening to an old man talk, his eyes wide with interest. “What about your brother?”

“What about him?”

“If you find Hether Blether, are you prepared for the fact that you’ll be taking him into danger?” Callum asked.

A chill swept its way up my spine. “What is so bad about Hether Blether?”

Callum sighed. “More than you know.”

I remembered the way he’d looked in the rain, his pale skin wet and shining, his hair darkened by the water. I wondered again what he looked like in his finfolk form.

He turned to me, looking into my eyes. There was something there, something I couldn’t figure out. I opened my mouth, licking my dry lips.

“What happened to your leg?”

Callum’s body visibly stiffened. He turned toward the musicians and didn’t answer me.

I could take a hint, especially one as big as what he sent me way. “Then tell me why you’re banished from Hether Blether,” I said.

Callum shook his head. “It’s a long story.”

“I have time.” Thin wisps of clouds hung in the purple sky. Song night was approaching quickly. Already, I could feel the pull of the water calling out to me. “Since you’re not helping me get where I need to be.”

“It is not a nice story,” he said. “It will make you think badly of finfolk, maybe even of me as well.”

I suppressed a shiver as the wind blew over me, lifting the ends of my hair. “Why? Did you kill someone?”

I had meant it as a joke, expecting him to laugh and roll his eyes. But his face only tightened even further into a grimace.

“Why do you want to find the finfolk so badly?” he asked.

I turned away from him, letting out a sigh. “We told you,” I said. “We need to find someone.”

“Is this someone really that important?” he asked.

My eyes stung suddenly with tears and I let the wind whip them away before they could trickle down my cheeks. “Yes, she is.”

“There is a good chance she never made it to Hether Blether.”

I gritted my teeth until my jaw ached. “But there’s also a chance that she did. I have to believe that until I find out otherwise.”

“What if she’s not? What if you came all this way and you somehow get to Hether Blether, and then this person you’re looking for is not there?”

It was the exact question I didn’t like to think about. I had to trust that my mother had come this way. Maybe she had even once sat in the same spot where I now sat, looking out at the bay and trying to find the way home. I could see her clearly in my head, the young woman that appeared whenever I sang. She had to still exist somewhere, waiting for me to find her.

There wasn’t a possibility that she wouldn’t be there at the end of this journey. It was the only thing that kept me going.

“If she’s not there,” I said in a choked voice, “then I’ll keep searching. For as long as it takes, wherever I have to go. I’m not going home until I find her, so save your breath. You won’t convince me not to keep looking.” I shuffled my feet along the grass and rocks. “Haven’t you ever had someone that was so important to you, you’d do anything for them?”

Callum turned his face away from me. “Who is she?” he asked, his voice so low I almost couldn’t hear him over the sound of the music.

I didn’t want to trust him. He hadn’t given me any reason to let him have this secret. Except he was finfolk, probably the only pure finfolk I’d ever met, and he hadn’t told anyone else about Josh and me.

“She’s my mother,” I said at last. “She left when I was a few months old, after my daddy died.”

Callum shifted closer, his arm brushing mine. “How did your father die?”

Josh played on, oblivious to our conversation. I studied his features, looking again for a face there that I had never seen.

“He drowned.”

I could feel Callum’s surprise even though I didn’t look at him. “Finfolk can’t drown,” he said.

“My daddy wasn’t finfolk. Not fully. His grandma had been finfolk, so he had some of the heritage, but he couldn’t change form. He was unlucky enough to fall in love with my mama and he died trying to be with her.”

“So you’re a half-breed,” he said.

My lip curled at the words, the insult some people back in Swans Landing liked to spit at me.

“Don’t call me that,” I growled through clenched teeth.

“I’m sorry,” Callum said. “But you’re not fully finfolk. In Hether Blether, that fact matters. If you make it there, you can’t let anyone know you’re part human. Don’t tell them Josh’s last name, don’t mention your father drowning.”

His expression was grim. His mouth was set in a tight, straight line and his eyes had turned a darker green.

“Why?” I asked.

“How many stories about finfolk have you heard where you come from?” he asked. “Do you know what they used to do to humans?”

I shrugged. “I read in a book once that finfolk supposedly abducted humans and married them.”

Callum grimaced. “The myths get warped over the years. Yes, finfolk abducted humans. But trust me, Hether Blether is not the place to be human. Be as finfolk as you possibly can. Your last name will help. Mooring is a true finfolk name, and it will offer some protection.”

In the traditional sense, Mooring should never have been my name. If my parents had been married or if my mama had followed human traditions, I should have been named Sailor Canavan, like Josh. Maybe because of the circumstances of my birth, my mama had chosen to give me her name instead. But the name Mooring came from Grandma Gale. My granddaddy was human, but he and Grandma had never married, and so she gave my mama her own name.

Twice, I should have had a human name, and yet the name I had was the one thing my family had blessed me with. Maybe the one thing that would help me in Hether Blether, if Callum was right.

But I still had no way of even getting there.

“Why would I need protection,” I began slowly, “if you won’t help me?”

My mouth went dry as I waited for his response. He was the only hope I had, the only chance of possibly finding my mother.

“I’ll help you,” he said at last. “I’ll take you as far as I can.”

I wondered if this was all a joke, if he was toying with me for fun. How much did I really know about this guy? How much could I trust him?

“I thought you didn’t have the key,” I said.

His mouth twitched. “I don’t. But I know where it is.”

Chapter Eleven

My shoes crunched on rocks as I came to a sudden stop at the end of the path.

“I’ve already been here,” I said. The building looked as tiny and forgettable as it had two days ago when I’d visited. Annoyance flashed through me. This was a waste of time, I’d already decided that on my first visit, and I wasn’t eager to see it again.

“Follow me,” Callum said. He had arrived at the hostel early that morning as the sun broke through the misty fog that hung over the village. I hadn’t told Josh where we were going, in case Callum didn’t really have the key. I didn’t want to get anyone else’s hopes up.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness inside the museum. The woman from my earlier visit fussed over Callum, squeezing him in a tight hug as if she hadn’t seen him in years.

“Moira,” Callum said as she released him, “this is my friend, Sailor.”

I didn’t have time to consider Callum calling me his friend because the woman turned toward me and her mouth broke into a wide, crooked grin, her eyes flashing in the bit of sunlight that streamed through the open door behind me.

“I knew you’d be back,” she said, pointing a finger at me. “You have questions, I can see it in your eyes. I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away.”

I ignored Moira’s comments and crossed my arms, scowling back at Callum. “So where is it?” I asked.

“Moira,” he said, turning to her again, “I need to take back the key I gave you.”

Her smile vanished suddenly. “That is one of the best pieces I have in the collection,” she protested.

“I have something I can trade for it.” He held up a bag in one hand, which he had been carrying but wouldn’t tell me what was in it.

Moira took the bag and walked over to an empty table, carefully emptying the contents onto the surface. It was nothing of much interest: a dried starfish, a few shells, and a pointed rock.

“They came from Hether Blether,” Callum told her. “The starfish adorned the king’s palace. The shells are from a finfolk child’s game, and the spear point is from a finfolk guard’s weapon.”

Moira poured over the items with interest, captivated by the sight of them. To me, they looked like ordinary objects that Callum could have picked up anywhere. He’d probably found them while walking along the bay of Pierowall. There was absolutely no reason to believe any of these things had actually touched finfolk hands, other than his own.

But Moira seemed satisfied. She nodded and she straightened up. “Aye okay, I’ll take the trade,” she said. “But only because it’s for you. I wouldn’t give it up for anyone else.”

The little woman led us across the room to the corner where the finfolk display was kept. She carefully lifted the glass box from over the table. I stepped forward, trying to figure out which item was this mysterious key Callum wanted so badly.

Moira’s fingers wrapped around the twisted piece of metal that held the drawings in place. She held it in her palm as if it were fragile and offered it to Callum.

“Thank you,” Callum told her softly as he took the metal from her.

Moira gazed wistfully at his closed fist. “If you decide you have no use for it, you will consider bringing it back to me?” she asked, a hopeful note in her voice. “I couldn’t bear the thought of it ending up somewhere else, in a place where it wouldn’t be revered.”