“Empty,” Ina cleared her throat, her voice echoing too loud in the space.
Archie nodded. His gaze swept the shadows; the broken beams and boats left to rust and rot where they’d been dragged ashore and forgotten. Water breathed in and out through the hole in the back wall.
The building had been abandoned for years. Nobody knew who owned it. Tucked away on a forgotten corner of Latharna, it escaped the attention of developers and curious tourists—too secluded and broken to be of interest. The perfect hiding place for a shoal of Selkie and their young.
Faint slivers of moonlight slipped through salt-crusted windows, casting long twisting shadows across the walls. Rusted boat parts lay scattered around the floor alongside old bones, half buried beneath silt and grime. Archie’s chest tightened as he took it in. Nothing had changed since the last time he’d been here.
Ina moved further inside. Her boot clipped an old metal chum-bucket. It clattered across the floor,the sound exploding through the boathouse and bouncing off stone and timber before crashing back at them.
Archie flinched. The crossbow snapped up again, heart hammering hard against his ribs. He held his breath, waiting—for a rush of movement, for teeth in the dark.
Nothing answered. Silence pressed in around them, thick and waiting. And somehow, that made it worse.
“You, okay?” Archie turned to check on her, forcing the words out through clenched teeth.
Ina shook her foot once, testing it, then nodded. She was already moving again.
They inched towards the far end of the boathouse. The back wall had partially collapsed into the sea long ago, stone dragged down by storms and neglect, leaving a jagged gap where water surged out and in, claiming the space as its own.
Ina swept her torch across the water, the beam carving slow arcs in the dark. She circled the light, drawing Archie’s attention to a small, deliberate opening in the remaining wall. “That’s how they get in and out.”
Archie followed the sweep of Ina’s torch, jaw tightening as the beam skimmed the waterline and vanished through the gap. “They probably heard us coming.” He lowered the crossbow a fraction, though his grip didn’t loosen.
“They’re still staying here, if the smell is anything to go by.” Ina sniffed, nose wrinkling, but her eyes never stopped scanning the shadows. “Now what?” The set of her shoulders was sharp. She wanted movement, something to fight.
“I don’t know.” Archie searched the shadows for an answer that didn’t come. Water slid in and out like a pulse, as though the dilapidated shed was as alive as they were. They’d planned for violence—swift and decisive. A fightyou could finish. This wasn’t that. “Murdock said they'd be here for a week. Maybe they've already gone?”
If they were lucky, the shoal would’ve left Latharna as soon as the adolescents failed to return to the nest. Instinct telling them to cut their losses. Leave before?—
Archie’s boot snagged. Caught in an old rope hanging loose from the skeleton frame of a boat. He stumbled, instinctively throwing his weight forward to stay upright. For a heartbeat he imagined hands instead of rope. Teeth, water closing in over his head, darkness…
He wrenched free, breathing hard in his chest. Ina’s torch snapped back to the water. The beam skimmed the surface, hunting for disturbance. Aside from a few lazy ripples, it was still.
“Dad?”
The word cut through Archie like a blade. Heat surged up his spine, his vision blurring at the edges as fury slammed into fear, and twisted tight. He’d asked one thing. One bloody thing. Stay in the car.
Light exploded overhead. Archie and Ina both flinched, shielding their eyes from the blinding glare of the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. The shadows vanished in an instant, leaving nowhere to hide. Archie swore under his breath—he hadn’t seen the switch by the door.
Apparently, neither had Ina. “Brilliant,” she muttered, killing her torch.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” Archie bellowed, fury breaking loose now. He surged forward, boot snagging again on the rope, the jerk of it sending a jolt up his leg. He ripped himself free and charged towards Malachi’s voice. Then stopped dead.
Captain Murdock.
The sight landed like a punch to the gut. Archie’s breath stalled, his body going cold even as his pulse spiked.
“Well, now,” Captain Murdock slung one arm comfortably around Malachi’s shoulders as if they were sharing a joke. In the other hand was a harpoon gun, the weight of it resting easily against his hip. “What on earth is happening here?”
Something inside Archie iced over. For years, Murdock’s voice had meant tides and weather warnings. Early mornings at Portmuck Harbour and a quiet pint in theCraic and Barrel. A man who knew the sea the way Archie knew the land. Someone Archie had trusted to keep his mouth shut and his loyalties straight. And here Murdock was, standing between Archie and his son with a weapon in his hand.
Archie’s fingers tightened on the crossbow until the wood bit into his palms. His chest ached, breath coming too shallow now, thoughts scrambling to catch up with what his eyes were telling him. He raised his weapon, aiming directly at Murdock.
Murdock didn’t move.
The betrayal settled in Archie’s gut, slow and sinking, heavier with every passing second. Ina shifted beside him. Her hand slid to the hilt of her knife, stance widening as she readied herself to pounce.
“Evening, Bob,” Ina’s voice strained thin. “Not often we see you on dry land.”
