Raquel Byrnes (19 page)

“Your cousin is a complication you do not need right now,” Josif muttered.

“Phillip couldn’t have picked a worse time to show up unannounced,” Simon grumbled.

“Always with the talent for inconvenience,” Josif answered.

They walked within feet of each other. The night allowed for only the faintest silhouette of his friend. Simon glanced up at the silver moon, and black clouds slid slowly across its middle.

“I meant what I said, Josif. I want to know why Sheriff Levine was really here. You don’t waste an entire day just to ‘pop in,’ especially with the southern dock still down. His boat had to come in from the north side. That’s at least four hours to get to the top of Noble from the other islands.”

“Word in the village is he’s here to investigate the strange break-ins.”

“I haven’t heard of this.”

“It’s not the big houses on the hills, Simon. It’s the homes of the villagers. Food and clothes were taken. There are things destroyed. Mirrors.”

“So the sheriff is here to stop this?”

“Presumably, but this can still cause problems.”

“Problems?”

Josif walked beside him in silence. His friend always did that when tough things needed to be said.

Simon waited him out, already guessing at what Josif meant to say.

“Your Rosetta—” he began.

“She’s not mine,” Simon said and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I wish she were, but…”

“This woman,” Josif continued. “She is special to you, yes?”

“What are you getting at, Josif?”

“There are things happening on this island. You know that, Simon. In your own home that seem—”

“She’s
hope
, Josif. Can’t you see that? She’s the possibility of happiness for Lavender and for me. I can’t let all this—my past, what’s happening now—I won’t let it ruin what might be.”

“Simon, you are not well. I can see this.” Josif’s hand went to Simon’s arm, stopping him. “There was blood in the forest.”

“S-She’s strong, Josif. She’s so much stronger than you realize.” Simon took in a jagged breath. Hope and frustration banged in his chest, squeezing.

Josif released his arm. A lighter flared and Josif put it to the pipe in his mouth, puffing. He held the flame between them, looking at Simon with a solemn face.

“You do not believe in the old magic, Simon, but I do,” Josif rasped. “Beware of tempting your fate.”

“I know, Josif,” Simon said. “But I don’t intend on surrendering to it, either.”

Josif nodded once, extinguished the lighter, and walked off.

Simon listened to him crunch over the leaves and twigs as he went toward his cabin in the forest. Soon the wind swallowed the sound of him. Simon closed his eyes and breathed in the night, smelling the earth and the pine. He listened to the roar of the water bashing the craggy rocks, and the scent of the ocean floated to him. He imagined Rosetta and Lavender playing together on the sand and wondered if her hair lit up like gold in the sunlight. His daughter’s giggle, the smile on her face as she sat on Rosetta’s lap in the gazebo pierced his heart. He ground his jaw. Was he really fated to lose all whom he loved? Was there no escape?

Standing in the pitch of the night hearing the wind howl through the trees, Simon thought about fate and faith. He wondered how far one could run in the dark before being lost in it forever and if his prayers still rose to heaven after all this time.

23

My conversation with Phillip did little to ease the worry caused by Nalla’s grave declarations. I sat alone in the kitchen nursing a cup of hot cocoa. Dunking the mini marshmallows under with a spoon, I stared out at the night. A storm out over the ocean churned and flickered pale light across the water. It looked beautiful and somber. The low-hanging light above me dimmed and flared bright again. I eyed it with furrowed brows. Not much wind tonight, but another big storm was coming and the lights might go off again. I should go and get the flashlight from my room.

As I thought of the one I’d nearly lost in the dark fog last night, uneasiness fluttered in my stomach, but I pushed it away. I couldn’t worry about that now. If there was an explanation for all the strange happenings, it had to have something to do with Nalla’s warnings. If tragedy truly plagued the Hale family, then finding out exactly what that meant would only help to make things clearer.

I just didn’t know how to do that. I knew from botany that when assessing a possible new specimen, you gathered all the information available before proceeding. Inevitably, notes intersected, previously uncertain clues became clear, closer inspection always revealed results. That is what I needed to do—rely on the logical side of my mind. The emotional side seemed to make things murkier.

Sitting back in the seat, I pushed away the mug and blew out my breath. I wasn’t thirsty. I didn’t want to go up to bed. I wanted answers. Problem was, I had no idea how to get them short of interrogating the entire household. If I waited until everyone was asleep, then maybe I could steal back up into the hidden storage room. I needed to return the picture of Simon anyway. No harm in doing that. Before I left the kitchen, I grabbed a spare flashlight from the coat room and went up to check on Davenport. Dr. Fliven should be in tomorrow, and I had a lot of questions for him. The door eased open under my soft knock. The bed was empty.

“Mr. Hale?” I called into the room. The weak light of the bedside lamp didn’t quite reach the door, and I stepped into the darkness, listening. I didn’t hear anything. The digital clock on the dresser read after eight. “Where did he go?”

Easing back out, I used the photograph of Simon to fan myself, thinking. If Davenport was out of bed, he was most likely downstairs in the library, which meant I couldn’t slip into the hidden passageway. I took the stairs up to the third floor and my gaze went to the doors further down the hall, to the room just off the observation deck: the study. Heading towards it, I checked the handle. It twisted easily, and I pushed through to the musty room, closed the door, and felt along the wall for a light switch. I flicked it on, but the bulb sparked once, gave a small burst, and burned out.

“Great.” I pulled out the flashlight I’d taken from the kitchen. “How am I going to rifle through secret files if I can’t see anything?”

Feeling silly for even thinking of going through the private papers of Simon’s family, I stood at the door of the study with the small pen-light illuminating the ragged carpet at my feet. A purple light flashed through the window—the storm clouds over the ocean. I remembered the telescope out on the observation deck from my tour with Mrs. Tuttle and bit my lip. I bet the clouds and lightning looked amazing through it.

It wasn’t raining yet, and I needed to see something beautiful after the feeling of terror in the fog last night and Nalla’s dire warnings today. Stealing through the study, I tried the door that led out to the observation deck. It was locked. Disappointed, I jiggled the knob and it clicked in my hand.

“So much for secure,” I whispered as I opened the door.

Cold air and mist washed over me as I walked onto the deck. A dark purple sky was pocked with black clouds. They churned with flashes in their bellies. The moon, only a sliver, hung low, its light weak and jaundiced against the deep gloom. The breeze from the storming ocean brought with it the smell of ozone and salt, making the air crackle with electricity. Not wanting to be seen, I flicked the flashlight off and guided myself along the outer edge of the deck by the railing. Cracked and peeling paint scraped against my palm. The silhouette of the telescope formed in front of me, and I stopped, reaching out and finding its cool surface.

I tilted it, leaning to look into the eyepiece, and let out a murmur of awe. As if within my reach, flashes of light in a sea of darkness lit up the clouds. They roiled and folded into one another like billows of agitated smoke. A jagged wire of light snapped down to the sea, and I gasped with the intensity of the lightning. I pulled away from the telescope as the thunderclap hit, bringing with it waves of electrified air. The hairs on my arms spiked. Another volley of purple fissures lit up the sky; and as I braced for the thunder, something caught my eye. I turned as the sky flashed bright, illuminating a hunched figure just feet from me. The figure jerked towards me before darkness engulfed us.

Startled, I stumbled back, a scream ripping from my throat as I flailed, blind from the flash. I knocked the telescope over and went down with it; my feet tangled with the stand. A guttural moan, anguished and inhuman, floated out from the darkness, sending me into a panic. I scrambled along the floor clawing for the door to the study. Behind me, I heard banging on the deck. A steady thump-thump-thump getting louder and harder. I fumbled with the handle of the door and yanked on it frantically. Cold fear squeezed the breath out of me, and I threw my shoulder against the door and fell through, tumbling to the floor.

I righted myself and jerked open the door leading to the hallway, my gaze going over my shoulder, sure that a hand was just about the grab me. I ran headlong into someone, and the shock of it sent my scream echoing down the hallway.

“Will you stop that?” O’Shay’s rough voice sounded next to me.

“O’Shay?” My eyes were still recovering from the lightning flashes.

“Will you kindly remove yourself from my person?” He pushed me off, and we stood.

“O—O’Shay, there is something out there on the deck.”

“What do you mean there’s something out there?” His eyes narrowed. “What were you doing out there anyway? It’s not safe, the railing—”

“Will you forget about the railing,” I said and pulled him away from the study door.

“What is wrong with you?” He went a few feet before yanking his arm from mine. “Stop with this nonsense, Ms. Ryan. You’ll wake the whole house.”

“I saw something out there! I was watching the storm and then the lightning lit up the…the…there’s something there, O’Shay, I saw it!”

He stepped back from me as if my fear were contagious. His gray mustache twitched as he looked at me with suspicion.

“If I go and have a look, will you stop with your hysterics?”

I nodded, hand to my chest, trying to steady my breath. “Wait, shouldn’t you take a gun or something out there with you?”

“Just stay out here in the hall,” O’Shay muttered. He blew out a breath and trudged through the door, closing it behind him. I stood listening as his footsteps receded into the room. A door opened and shut inside the room, and then the squeak of the French doors leading out to the deck.

I waited, barely breathing for almost a minute, before he came back.

“Well?”

“There’s a busted telescope out there, nothing more.” O’Shay shrugged.

“What are you talking about?” I tried to push back into the study, but he stopped me.

“Don’t you think you’re done causing a ruckus tonight, Ms. Ryan?”

“I saw something out there, Mr. O’Shay.”

“I’m sure you thought you did, but there’s nothing out there now.” He crossed his arms and stood with his back to the study door.

“Well, is there another way off of the deck?”

“Only if you can fly,” he said and shook his head. “What could you have seen out there with the light flashing all around you? You didn’t even see
me
before you took me down.” He rubbed the side of his head.

I felt the air go out of me, and I rubbed my eyes, confused.

He had a bruised eye and fresh scratches on his arms. What was going on?

“But…you’re sure there’s nothing out there?”

“Just a branch that blew onto the deck during the last rainstorm. You sure that wasn’t what you saw? It’s in the corner.”

“Then I want to see it,” I said and reached for the handle.

“You knocked over a telescope that’s been around more’n a hundred years,” O’Shay said not moving. “You’re not goin’ out there to trample it some more just to see a busted piece of tree.”

“But—”

“But nothin’, Ms. Ryan. That old contraption is worth more than I make in a year. If there’s anything left unbroken in the morning, I want it to stay that way.”

The adrenaline burned through. All I had left was frustration, and it bubbled out of me in angry tears. “I can’t sleep tonight if I think there’s something lurking in the shadows.”

“Lurking? Now, don’t go and start crying.” His brows furrowed, and he cleared his throat. “I…” Handing me a folded handkerchief, he averted his eyes as I wiped my face. “Come with me.”

He ushered me down the hall to the steps, and I followed him to the library. A fire burned in the fireplace, but the lamps were dimmed down. I looked around for Davenport. No one sat in the chairs or on the couch.

“We should tell Davenport and Simon,” I said and sank into the wingback.

“And what do you suppose I tell them, huh, lass? That you sneaked into a room you were told to steer clear of and got spooked?” He handed me a glass of dark liquid from the bar. “Take a nip of that for your nerves.”

I took it, swirled it in my hand, and watched the fire reflected in its amber ripples. “I don’t drink,” I said and set it down on the carpet. I hugged myself. “I saw something out there, Mr. O’Shay. Something or someone was out on the deck right next to me. I saw in the lightning flash.”

“No telling what you thought you saw out there in the split second of a strike.” O’Shay sat in the chair opposite me, his face half hidden by the shadows. “But there was nothing out there when I looked.”

I shook my head and gazed on the fire, frustration burning.

“I heard you had dinner with Phillip,” he said.

“What does that have to do with anything?” I looked at him, shocked. How had news of this traveled so quickly? Had Simon told him? Had Josif?

“Don’t get your feathers ruffled, Ms. Ryan. It’s just that Phillip’s fond of telling tales about Noble Island that might get someone riled up a bit.”

“He didn’t tell me ghost stories, Mr. O’Shay,” I said. “He told me that I
shouldn’t
believe things I was hearing about the Hale family.”

Oh, and he gave me juicy news about Mrs. Tuttle and her dead daughter.