Page 19 of Bewitched By the Sea Monster
The man rolled his shoulders again. “I wouldna say yer babblin’ any. And ye wouldna be the first to be afeared on the passage.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, protecting them from the chill. “Which is why I worried when I found ye alone. Did yer boyfriend not make the trip?”
“Oh no, he’s here. Somewhere. He actually went looking for you and your magic peppermint oil. Well…I mean…he didn’tknowyou had the magic peppermint oil, but he was hoping a worker would have something that’d help. So when you head back to…wherever, and you see a tall, worried looking man with blond hair—that’s Jackson.”
The man nodded. “Understandable. If ye think ye’ll be needin’ more of the peppermint, I can leave it with ye.”
“No.” My nose twitched, the skin around my nostrils tingling from the goop. “I’m good now. As good as I can be, anyway. I’ll be better once we get to the island. Goodness, it’s cold though, isn’t it?” A vicious gale snaked its way across the deck, biting the back of my neck. “And the website said to expect mild to hot climates on the isle. They must have a different definition ofmildandhot.”
“The isle’ll be warm,” the man said. “Once we make landfall, the cold’ll dissipate.”
“Really?Uh…how?”
“Runes. Magic.” His shoulder popped up in another half shrug. “Don’t rightly ken how it all works, mind, but they keep the temperature fair. Canna do much for the fog though.”
“AHH!”
The explosion of excited screeches made me jump—again—and set the man standing out of the crouch he’d been in.
“THERE!” a woman hollered. “That’sdefinitelyhim. See the shadow—the fins!? Where’s my phone? Ohfuck.Dead?Ugh.”
“Where?”
“I see him!”
“He’s half under the ship!”
“He’sbiggerthan the ship.”
A nervous chill rattled my spine. “You don’t think they really see it, do you?” I turned to the man. “The Loch Ness Monster?”
“They might. But I’d not trouble yerself, lassie. He’ll not be emergin’ from the sea, nor will he bother this ship.”
“You’re sure? I mean, I’m not doubting your expertise, but I’d imagine he’s a fairly sizable creature.”
“Oh, aye. Forty American feet, as I heard it.”
Forty American feet.The label for our silly, outdated metric system got me to smile, even as the number made me shiver. “And you don’t think a forty-foot monster would ever…I don’t know, throw a tantrum and smash this ship?”
“He might, if he weren’t controlled.”
“Controlled?”
“Aye. Runes. Magic. He canna breach the surface until commanded, which is usually dun when he’s called to eat—they dunna let him eat the creatures from the deep, ye see—or if they want him seen on a tour. He canna touch this ship either—‘less he wants to feel a right nasty bout of pain.”
“That sounds…”
Cruel, I wanted to say, but didn’t.
The man seemed to hear the unspoken word, though. “May not be the finest way of keepin’ him. But he’s kept, and safe. And the people are safe.” He inclined his head to the gawkers hanging over the railing. “I suppose that’s all that matters.”
“I guess.”
Something jangled in my belly though. Not really sympathy. Or nerves. Definitely not more upchuck (thank the stars). But I frowned, trying to place the odd feeling. AndwhyI was feeling it.
“Ah,” the man beside me muttered, his voice so low it was almost lost under the next storm ofohsandahsfrom the group. “This’ll be yer boyfriend, eh? Tall fellow with yellow hair, like ye said.”
I turned and exhaled when I saw Jackson rushing toward us from the front of the ship.
“That’s him,” I said.
