Page 5 of Crown of Tides and Fury

“I’m not a Muir, so I wouldn’t know. Are there rules?”

She laughed. “No one ever gave me any rules, and I’ve spent some time with Lorraine and Loretta. If there were guidelines, they would have told me.”

“Okay. I have another question. It’s been bugging me since this morning. Were you watching when Wickham came to my table, at breakfast? Did you see Annag curtsy…before I introduced them? I never said anything about him being the Grandfather, but I’m pretty sure that’s what she called him.”

“Yeah. I saw it.”

“And? What did you think? Did you know immediately? You know, after he came back—”

“You mean after he killed the Grandfather and took his mantle?”

I grabbed her, made her face me. “You knew he killed him?”

She shrugged me off, laughed. “His sisters told me that was the only way the old man could finally die. But yes, I knew. Felt like a gong in my chest the first time. Nothing like that since. It’s more like…standing near a magnet now. Sometimes the hairs stand up on my arms when he uses his power near me. But the gong was a one-time thing.”

“Did you…did you feel a sudden need to curtsy?”

Persi laughed again. “I have no idea why she curtsied. You’d have to ask her. Maybe it’s a British thing—having royalty and all. You don’t see a lot of Americans curtsying, do you?”

I threw a few more rocks, feeling a little less nervous. “I guess, if Annag recognized him as the clan chief, maybe it won’t be so hard to give up her powers, right? I mean, you’d have to give up yours, if he asked you to, right?”

When Persi didn’t answer, I turned around. She looked green around the gills, like she might puke if we didn’t change the subject.

3

Uninvited Party Guest

At half-past seven, the four of us left the cottage and made our way to the Sea Witch. Though the sun hadn’t set, strings of hopeful lightbulbs kept their filaments glowing, knowing that any minute, they’d make a difference.

Kind of like our merry band. We kept our hopes up that any minute, we’d make a difference. Surely.

The Sea Witch was a busy place for a Thursday night, but when we arrived, the maître d’ waived us forward. “Annag had us hold a table for ye.”

We passed the birthday girl. Her table was surrounded by Annag and six other children close to Fallon’s size. I paused to tell her “Happy Birthday.” She grinned but had nothing to say while she ripped open a present. It was a doll with a mermaid tail, which she held up and wiggled for everyone to see. When the entire house cheered, I realized why the place was packed.

They’d all come for the party.

I said something to that effect to the server.

“Weel, now, it does take a village to raise a child, aye? Especially one without a parent.”

We watched the party from ten feet away and joined in when they sang the birthday song, though with slight variations. It was followed by “For She’s a Jolly Good Fellow.” Everyone in the dining room was served a piece of mermaid cake. Whoever found a gold coin in their slice would win a prize.

A little boy at the birthday table squealed when he found the coin and dug it out of the frosting. He didn’t complain when the prize turned out to be a plastic necklace, which he presented to Fallon.

At one point, Annag left the table and Fallon waved to get the other children’s attention. “Remember the selkies?” When her friends nodded, she pointed to Wickham, who pretended not to notice. “He’s one. Do ye see? One of the pretty folk, sure,” she said, oblivious to the fact that her voice carried across the room.

The children’s eyes nearly popped out of their heads, and they craned their necks to stare at the handsome stranger beside me.

“Granny and I will search the caves in the mornin’. If we find his skin, we’ll bury it, and he’ll have to stay forever.”

I was surprised she’d even tease about making Wickham stick around, since she hadn’t seemed impressed by him at breakfast.

I turned and looked closely at my overly pretty friend who caused a stir wherever we went, though his constant goal was to blend in. “In a stadium full of sore thumbs, you’d still stick out like a sore thumb.”

He scowled. “Ye’ll owe me a pint for that.”

I laughed in his face but did scoot out of the booth and head for the bar. Fallon showed no signs of wearing down, and our nine o’clock meeting was looking less and less likely. I ordered Wickham’s pint and settled on a bar stool to wait for it. Fiddle music was piped in and turned low. I closed my eyes and tried to pick out charming Scottish banter bubbling all around me.

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