Page 33 of House of Salt and Sorrows
“Fisher, would you excuse us? I need to speak with my daughters. Privately.”
Fisher vanished down the hall.
Papa waited a beat before starting in on us. “Morella is very upset,” he said. “Inconsolable.”
Camille bristled, clearly not backing down. “Imagine how we feel. We’re the ones in danger of dying off, long before that baby is born.”
He sighed. “No one is dying off.”
“Then she has nothing to worry about, does she?” She slumped back into the chair. “I suppose you want me to apologize for having a conversation that wasn’t about her that she chose to eavesdrop on?”
Papa raked his fingers through his hair. “Just don’t bring it up again. Not around her, not among yourselves. I’m placing a moratorium on the curse. Which doesn’t exist,” he added. “Now, I have to travel to the capital this afternoon. I’ll be gone at least a week, maybe more. There’s an ugly bit of business King Alderon has requested his Privy Council weigh in on.” He sighed. “Morella is more tired than she lets on and could use a little looking after while I’m gone. Pampering, even. Understand me?”
Rosalie, Ligeia, and I nodded. After a pointedly long moment, Camille did as well.
“Good,” he said, and strode out of the room without a backward glance.
I longed to run after Papa and show him the watch, but he was in too foul a mood to listen. He’d snap at me, and I’d lose any chance at being taken seriously. I stared down into the depths of my coffee, wondering what to do next.
Fisher poked his head in from the hall. “Annaleigh? All ready?”
I pushed the cup aside. “Coming!”
The sky was a vast blue void as we set out for the little islet on the far side of Salten. The sun hadn’t been seen in over a week and now drenched down in radiant splendor, as if apologizing for its long absence.
While Fisher manned the small craft, I peered across the expanse of open water, counting sea turtles. The giant beasts were favorites of mine. In the springtime, females hoisted themselves onto our beaches, laying their eggs. I loved to see them hatch. With powerful pectoral flippers and giant, wise eyes, the little turtles were perfect miniatures of their parents. They’d burst free and work their way down the beach, already drawn to the sea, just like the People of the Salt.
“Look!” I pointed to a great leathery hump breaking the surface yards away. “That’s twelve!”
Fisher used the moment to pause, lowering the oars. “Biggest one yet too. Look at the size of its shell!”
We watched it take a gulp of air, then dive below the waterline. The wind tousled Fisher’s hair, highlighting the sun-bleached streaks, and I was struck again by how much he’d changed since leaving Highmoor. His eyes fell on mine as he smiled lopsidedly.
“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it?” He raised his chin, gesturing to the island behind me.
I glanced back at Highmoor. Its four stories rose steeply from the top of the rocky cliffs. The stone facade was a soft gray, covered in ivy. A pretty pattern of blue and green shingles dotted the gabled roof, sparkling like the prize jewel in a mermaid’s crown.
My eyes drifted to the cliff walk. “It looks like nothing bad could ever happen there, doesn’t it?”
His eyebrows furrowed as he nodded. “I think I walked into something I shouldn’t have earlier.”
“That makes two of us.”
His silence felt like a gentle prod for more information.
“I had something I wanted to discuss with Papa, but he and Camille were locked in a battle over that nonsense about the curse, and I never got to tell him. And now he’s left for the capital, and who knows when he’ll return.”
“Is it really so urgent?”
“It felt like it this morning.”
“And now?”
I shrugged. “I suppose it will have to wait, whether it is ornot.”
Fisher slid his fingers over the oars but made no motion to continue rowing. “You can talk to me about it, whatever it is. Maybe I could help?”
I ran my hand over the pocket watch but did not withdraw it. “I…I think Eulalie might have been murdered.”
