"Mal—" Archie’s throat closed around the word. His heart cracked clean in two. Malachi was finally ready to talk, and he had to walk away—only for a couple of hours, but it still stung like betrayal. If he’d broken his promise to Heather and told Malachi about the Otherworld after Rhyswas killed, he would understand why he couldn’t stay now. Duty came first. And while innocent people were in danger, he had no choice.
“It’s okay, Dad.” Malachi pulled his arm free and stepped out of the car. “I know you’re busy. I’ll see you later.”
Archie shifted against his seatbelt as though it were tightening around his chest. The connection between them had never felt so jagged—and this time it was his fault.
“See you?—”
The door slammed. Malachi strode across the courtyard without looking back, shoulders tight, walking sharp and quick. He walked just like Ina when she was angry.
The urge to run after him rose hard and fast. To hell with Heather’s promise. To hell with the Polar Bear. To hell with funerals, and obligations, and everything that didn’t involve his son. But he couldn’t, not yet. Not until the waters of Latharna were safe.
He swallowed the guilt, hard and bitter. Turning the car around, he headed for Polar Bear rock.
Chapter 10
Malachi
Dad’s car tore down the driveway, scattering stones across the courtyard in yet another desperate rush to get away from Riverside. Malachi stood there a moment longer, jaw tightening. He was just as guilty of sidestepping conversations about the river. But he’d assumed that once he finally plucked up the courage to admit his part in Rhys’ death, Dad would at least stick around long enough to hear it. Apparently not.
“Oh, come on.” He jiggled his sticky key in the lock, shoved the door open with his foot, then slammed it behind him. The satisfying bang echoed down the hall. He cocked his head, waiting for Ina’s inevitable yell about‘slamming that bloody door off its hinges.’Even though her bedroom was on the top floor, Ina could hear a pin drop several stories below.
Nothing.
The kitchen gleamed—the air tinged with lemon and bleach rather than fresh baking. No trays cooling on the hob. No storm of flour and sugar coating every surface. No sign of Ina at all.
He leaned against the doorframe, listening for footsteps. His phone buzzed. Jeff. It buzzed again, and again.
He exhaled sharply and answered.
“Yo!” Jeff barked before Malachi could say hello. “Have you told him yet?”
“Tonight.” The word tasted final. “I’m telling my dad tonight that I’m leaving Latharna. Wish me luck.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Ina slipped out of Dad’s office, easing the door shut as though she didn’t want anyone to hear she’d been in there. Malachi ended the call, cutting Jeff off mid-whoop, and shoved the phone into his pocket.
“What were you doing in there?” He nodded towards the office.
Ina startled, only for a heartbeat, before collecting herself with a bright too-casual smile. “Tidying up your dad’s desk love.” She smoothed the hem of her yoga top. “I didn’t hear the door slam.”
“You know me, I’m very quiet.” The joke fell flat, even to him.
Dad hadn’t used his desk in years. No universe existed where it needed to be tided. He brushed past her and headed for the stairs. Exhaustion tugged at his limbs. A nap pulled at him like gravity, even if sleep meant sliding straight into another nightmare.
“I think your dad wants to talk to you when we get back from the Johnstons.”
Malachi paused halfway up the stairs. Of course she knew. Ina always did. Dad and Ina were as thick as thieves, whispering behind doors, closed enough to stop secrets slipping through the cracks. He nodded, not bothering to question her and carried on up the stairs. Let them keep theirsecrets. In a few weeks, he’d be leaving Riverside, the nightmares, and Latharna behind.
Chapter 11
Archie
Archie drove along Coast Road, one eye on the tarmac and the other skimming the surface of the sea for any unusual ripples in the current. The light breeze drifting through the open window carried the scent of overheating engines and fried onions from the burger van—another scorching day.
He slowed as oncoming traffic filtered through the Black Arch, the man-made tunnel blasted through volcanic rock, only wide enough for one vehicle at a time. While he waited, he craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the jagged rocks at Devil’s Churn below. Even on calm days the waves hurled themselves against the rocks. A human wouldn’t stand a chance down there, but it wouldn’t faze a Selkie, even in their human skin.
A campervan beeped halfway through the arch. Children shrieked with joy inside, their voices echoing through the tunnel. The driver gave Archie an apologetic wave. He lifted his hand in return. Beeping through the Black Arch was a local superstition for good luck. His boys had loved it when they were small.
Traffic crawled for another mile until the Polar Bear came into view, and with it, half the Latharna police force. Blue-and-white tape cordoned off the car park and jetty to keep the growing crowd at bay. A few police cars, Mayor Johnston’s sports car and a single funeral car were the only vehicles inside the perimeter.
