“To be mean and stupid?” Nolie offered, and Leslie gave her a stricken look.
Waving Nolie off, Bel said, “Aye, it was. But it’s over now, and we’re none the worse for it, so . . .”
In the silence that followed, Leslie continued to fidget with her braid while Nolie stood with her arms crossed next to Bel.
As for Bel? She didn’t know what to think.
Apparently awkward silence was too much for Al, because he cleared his throat, and Leslie’s eyes lifted to his face. She tilted her head to one side.
“I know you, right? It’s been bothering me since we saw you at the tearoom.”
Of course Al would look familiar to Leslie. She’d spent a lot of time at the shop before everything had gone pear-shaped over the spring. She might have even helped dust his picture a time or two.
But before Leslie could look any closer, Nolie grabbed Al’s arm and started tugging him toward the door. “He’s my cousin,” she said. “And, um, he has a YouTube channel. You’ve probably seen him there. Okay, bye!”
“What’s YouTube?” Bel heard Al ask Nolie as she dragged him away, and Leslie blinked.
“I should go,” Bel said, jerking her thumb after Al and Nolie. “Get back to the shop. My mum wasn’t happy about me being gone the other night.”
It probably wasn’t very nice, but Bel still liked the flicker of guilt that crossed Leslie’s face. Served her right, playing a prank like that.
But then Bel remembered that Leslie didn’t know about the fog or what Al claimed was coming, so she couldn’t have understood just how disappointed Bel felt when she realized there wasn’t any help coming from Maggie.
Still, she just gave Leslie one last look, unsure of what else to say before jogging after Al and Nolie.
They were both outside the arcade, and Al had somehow already gotten another ice cream cone. When Bel looked at Nolie, Nolie nodded across the way to where the ice lolly lorry was parked.
“I think it’s following him,” she said. “Knows he’s an easy sale.”
Al was still sweaty—Bel hoped there was a shower he could sneak into at the Institute—but he seemed happier than Bel had seen him since they’d met, leaning against the side of the arcade, eating his ice cream. She remembered the panic she’d felt realizing they couldn’t find him, afraid he’d gone back into the fog, and she fought the urge to hug him.
From this spot on the pavement, she had a clear view out to the ocean and to the Boundary. There was no doubt it was closer now, or . . . bigger, somehow.
But it couldn’t come to shore, could it? Eat the town, like Al said?
She looked back over at him, his dark hair plastered to his head, his football jersey damp. He’d gone into the fog before and lit the light, so they knew he could do it again. If the fog came as close as he said it would, Al could save them, right?
But, Bel wondered as she watched him smile at Nolie, would he? And if he didn’t, could she be brave enough to do it instead?
CHAPTER 20
THE WIND WAS STRONG ENOUGH TO STING BEL’S EYES as she squinted out across the harbor. She and Mum had picked up some bacon rolls for breakfast on their way to open the shop and decided to stop and watch the boats for a bit. Even though there hadn’t been any tourists interested in the early run today, Jaime and Bel’s dad had decided to take the boat out anyway, letting Jaime get some more experience driving it instead of being the one to give the talk. The Bonny Bel looked small from this distance, like a toy, and she didn’t like watching those steel-gray waves lift it up only to drop it back down.
“I hate that boat,” her mum said from beside her, and Bel turned to look at her, surprised.
“You’ve never said that before.”
Mum glanced down, her expression wry. “Well, I didn’t want to hurt your brothers’ feelings. Or your dad’s, for that matter.”
She put an arm around Bel’s shoulders, squeezing her against her side, the soft wool of her jumper rubbing Bel’s cheek. “But I can tell you these things, love,” Mum continued. “Whole point of having a girl, really. Someone to tell my secrets to.”
The reminder of secrets made Bel’s stomach hurt, and she had to keep her eyes out at sea rather than turning to look left, toward the beach and the caves. What would her mum think if she told her about Al? About the lighthouse? Would she believe her, or think she was spending too much time with Nolie, letting fanciful ideas fill her head?
Stormy day like this, it would be wet down by the caves, the waves throwing their spray against the rock walls, the ceilings dripping. She hoped Al had the sense to stay in the attic today rather than go back down to the beach, but you never could tell with boys.
“I wonder what they take pictures of,” Mum mused. “Those tourists who go out on the boat. Do they go home and show people big blobs of gray and say, ‘Oh, aye, I went to Scotland, look at this!’”
Smiling, Bel nudged her. “They don’t say ‘aye’ a’tall, Mum. And they probably just post the pictures on Facebook.”
“Facebook,” her mum sighed, like she couldn’t even stand the idea of such a thing.
“It’s an adventure,” Bel reminded her. “Like all those people who go to Loch Ness. People like to think there might be a little magic in the world.”
That made her mum glance down at her, a puzzled smile crinkling her face. “That doesn’t sound like a very Bel McKissick thing to say.”
“Nolie,” Bel explained, and her mum nodded.
“Nolie.”
She chafed one hand up and down Bel’s arm, as though she were trying to keep her warm, and then said, “You’re spending a lot of time with Nolie now.”
“Not much else to do,” Bel reminded her, but Mum was still watching her, eyes narrowed just a bit.
Then Mum shook her head, turning her gaze back out at the sea. “You’re always the one to surprise me, my Bonny Bel,” she said, and Bel looked up at her, confused.
“What do you mean?”
With a sigh, her mum rocked back on her heels a little. “Just that I always wonder with you. With Simon, I knew he’d never want to stay in Journey’s End. With Jaime, I know he will. But you?”
Mum tilted her head down to smile at Bel. “You could go either way, I suppose.”
Bel wasn’t sure why, but those words made her feel warm and smiley, like she wanted to throw her arms around her mum’s waist and hug her tight the way she used to when she was little. Bel had never been sure whether she wanted to stay or not—and figured she had a long time to work that out for herself—but it was nice, hearing her mum say she was “surprising.” It seemed like a good thing to be.
“And as for you and Nolie,” her mum went on, “so long as you stay put after sunset from now on, I suppose what you did isn’t so bad.”
Bel had been afraid she’d be grounded or even banned from hanging out with Nolie after the other night, but since she was hardly the first kid in Journey’s End to take advantage of the long days in the summer, Mum had let her off with a warning.
“At least you came back at a sensible hour,” she’d told Bel, and Bel knew her mum was remembering the time Jaime and Simon had gone to Wythe only to come in near two in the morning.
Once again, she was thankful for her disobedient big brothers. They made any trouble she got into seem mild in comparison.
Bel was just thinking she ought to go and see if she could find Nolie and Al when Mum let out a gasp.
Bel had been looking over her shoulder toward the village, not at the boat, but when she turned back, she could see the Bonny Bel’s white hull much closer to the fog than it had been before.
“Why are they so close?” her mum said in a low voice, and Bel had a feeling she was talking to herself more than to her. Still, she was wondering the same thing—was Jaime seeing how close he could get? Because now it seemed as though the fog was kiss
ing the bow, gray sliding against white.
And then Bel realized what she was seeing.
“Mum!” she cried, tugging at her mother’s sleeve. “It’s not the boat getting closer to the fog, it’s the fog—”
“Hush, Bel,” her mum said sharply, like Bel saying the words would make what was happening more true somehow.
But it was clear as day to Bel that the fog was moving toward the boat, slinking and creeping over the water, reaching out long, misty tentacles. She couldn’t hear anything from the Bonny Bel over the wind and waves; she could only watch.
Bel and her mum stood at the docks, Bel’s fists clutched tight at her side, her mum’s fingers pressed to her lips, watching. What else was there to do but watch? Suddenly Bel thought of all those other people in Journey’s End, all those disappearances, and wondered if they’d also stood here on the docks, their hearts in their throats, watching as the Boundary moved closer to people they loved.
“Bel!”
She turned to see Nolie running to her, red hair streaming out behind her like a banner. She was in her purple boots as always, a bright green rain slicker pulled over her T-shirt and jeans. “What’s happening?”
Nolie’s dad was right behind her, a yellow plastic shopping bag in his hands. His glasses were dotted with mist, and he was squinting out at the Boundary. “Why did they get that close?” he asked.
Bel’s mum didn’t tear her eyes away from the sea, watching the fog roll over the front of the ship, the bow completely gone now. “It’s not the boat; it’s the Boundary,” she said in a shaky voice. “Something’s wrong.”
That didn’t seem like a strong enough way to put it when Bel was standing there, watching half the Bonny Bel vanish into the Boundary. All she could see were those pictures in the back of the shop, Jaime’s and Dad’s faces among them, and she turned panicked eyes to Nolie.
“We have to do something,” she said, but she wasn’t sure she was talking about what was unfolding in front of their eyes. For all that the idea of sending people—of sending Al—back into the fog horrified her, Bel now understood why the people in the village were willing to do it. She would do anything right now if it meant saving Jaime and Dad, anything that would keep the Boundary from slipping closer.
Farther down the docks, there was a flurry of activity. Another boat, one of the tour boats that wasn’t as popular and couldn’t hold as many people, was getting ready to go out. Bel and her mum hurried down that way, Nolie and her dad trailing behind.
“Dave!” Bel’s mum called, and the man at the side of the boat, wearing a red toboggan cap, glanced up.
“Dinna fash, Fee,” he said. “We’ll go fetch them all back.”
“It’s just Jaime and Kenneth out there,” Bel’s mum told him, one hand pushing her hair back, her eyes wide and her voice tight. “There weren’t any tourists this early.”
Dave made a noise in the back of his throat. “Well, thank goodness for that, at least. Less to-do, then.”
Bel thought there was plenty “to-do,” seeing as how that was her dad and her brother out there, but she knew what Dave meant.
“You’re not driving off into this, too, are you?” Nolie’s dad asked, moving forward. He was right at the edge of the dock, pushing his glasses up with one knuckle. “It’s too dangerous.”
But Dave shook his head. “I’ll get close as I can, have Jaime and Ken get aboard this one. Won’t take a moment.”
It was as good of a plan as Bel could think of, but when she looked back out at the sea, the fog seemed to have covered almost half the boat now, and Bel felt like there were bugs under her skin, everything feeling itchy and antsy and hurry hurry hurry.
“I’ll go with you,” Nolie’s dad said, and Nolie’s eyes went wide. “Dad,” she started, clutching his arm, but he gave her a quick smile. In that moment, Bel could see how much Nolie looked like her dad. It was the same smile Nolie had given Bel dozens of times over the last week or so.
“I’ll be fine, Nolie Mae,” he told her. “But Dave here might need some help.”
Dave’s pursed lips said exactly how he felt about that.
“Not a place for you,” he said, and Bel glanced around, realizing there was a small crowd forming. Several of them were looking at Nolie’s dad with faces like stone, that same clamped, tight expression Dave was wearing, and Bel remembered how nervous Nolie’s dad had seemed at the town meeting.
He was still nervous now, but he stood up a little straighter and said simply, “I want to help.”
After a moment, Dave gave a quick nod and lifted a hand to help Nolie’s dad clamber aboard.
The three of them—Nolie, Bel, and her mum—watched the Caillte Cruise putter out of the harbor and toward the Bonny Bel, the fog still covering half its deck even though Bel could see the water churned up by the engines. Her dad had to be putting it in reverse; he had to be.
Next to her, Nolie folded her arms. “It’s going to be fine,” she said, her shoulders pushed back, but her hands moving restlessly, tugging at her jacket, twisting the ring on her pinkie.
Bel could only nod, her heart in her throat, that hurry feeling making her wiggle her fingers as though that would make Dave’s boat go faster. Fifteen minutes. It took the Bonny Bel fifteen minutes to reach the Boundary, and that was only because they went so slowly, drawing out the trip as best they could. Dave was going faster; he’d be there quicker.
And sure enough, the Caillte Cruise was pulling up just behind the Bonny Bel a little over five minutes later, but that waiting felt like forever to Bel.
“It’s okay,” Nolie said, reaching out to hold Bel’s hand. They twined their fingers together like the knots Bel’s dad had taught her to make, like the ropes that were forever scraping Jaime’s palms because he never wore his gloves.
Tears stung Bel’s eyes, but she took deep breaths. “They’re there now,” she said, talking to herself like Mum had earlier. Her mum had moved farther down the docks, still watching, one arm wrapped around her middle.
“They’re there,” Nolie echoed, and Bel gave her hand a squeeze. Any minute now, people would be moving off the Bonny Bel and onto the Caillte Cruise. Any minute—
And then, as she watched, the fog suddenly surged forward, like a horse hearing a starting pistol, and rolled over not just the Bonny Bel, but the Caillte Cruise as well, and both boats vanished into the gray.
FROM “THE SAD TALE OF CAIT MCINNISH,”
CHAPTER 13,
Legends of the North
THE SKY GREW DARKER, AND THE FOG THAT SLUNK low across the ground of the lighthouse and its island grew thicker. A small part of Cait wished she hadn’t put out the lighthouse’s flame, leaving her alone in the darkness, but then she remembered that it was not her fault she was cast adrift in this place.
They had left her here to disappear so they wouldn’t have to watch her die. This village, this home, wanted her gone from their sight.
Cait sat and the boat rocked and the fog grew and the dark that had curled around her heart blotted out all fear, all sadness, until everything was anger.
Anger and fog.
Cait, the girl who did not believe in magic or fairy stories, looked at the coastline of her village in the distance and willed the fog rising up around her to grow thicker still, to reach grasping fingers toward the mainland.
Let it grow, she thought. Let it reach. Let it take. Until my father’s light is lit again, let this fog consume everyone and everything in its path. Let their daughters and sons disappear as they wished me to do.
And so the village on the edge of the Caillte Sea became a cursed place with a fog that slid in from the sea, thick and gray.
When the first ship foundered against the rocks, the laird sent a boat of his men to light the lighthouse.
They never returned.
He sent a second boat, a third, and when neithe
r of them returned either, the whispers began. Whispers that the witch had lived, perhaps was making the island her home, and was sending this fog as a punishment.
The laird listened to none of it until the fog crept over the harbor of the village, taking an entire ship and the harbormaster with it.
It was then that panic began to inch through the village as surely as the fog had. When it slid in far enough to take the house nearest the sea, panic became terror, and all might have been lost had it not been for the laird’s daughter.
Older than poor, doomed Rabbie, Margaret had loved her brother, but she had counted Cait a friend, and she’d hoped that friendship might let her pass through the fog unharmed.
Perhaps it had. After Margaret went, the light was lit, and the fog slid back to surround the rocky outcrop where the lighthouse stood. The village was safe, and if young Margaret never returned from her journey, the laird and the villagers alike counted it a fair price to pay.
And so the cursed village of Journey’s End crouched by the Caillte Sea and held its breath, praying the light would never go out again.
CHAPTER 21
NOLIE WATCHED THE FOG EAT BOTH OF THE BOATS IN front of her, and for what felt like forever, could only stare at the giant . . . cloud where the boats had been.
Next to her, Bel gave a choked cry, and Bel’s mum dropped a hand to Bel’s shoulder, her own face gray, lips pressed tightly together.
“They’ll come back,” Nolie heard herself say. “They . . . they have to, they can’t just . . .”
Except they could. People disappeared in Journey’s End all the time, taken by that same fog she’d just watched swallow two boats. Suddenly Nolie thought she might throw up.
“It’s all right,” Bel’s mum said, her voice firm even though her face was still roughly the same color as that fog. “It’s all right,” she repeated.
It very clearly was not all right. There was already a hive of activity down at the harbor. Watching men in sweaters and jeans walk down to the edge of the pier, their hands shading their eyes as they peered out at the Boundary, Nolie was reminded of when there were power outages back home in Georgia. There was that same feeling of everybody wanting to see what was going on.