Page 24 of Bewitched By the Sea Monster
“Lovely blouse,” Melany said.
I beamed over my shoulder at her. “Thank you!” I knew there was a reason I’d liked her.
“Now then”—the cat meandered to the front of the group, holding his tiger-striped tail as high as it would go—“with those unpleasantries out of the way, allow me to extend the warmest of welcomes to Niverwick Isle. May your stay beextraordinary.Follow me! And stay close, please. The fog can be dense and disorienting when you’re not acclimated to it. But if you do fear yourself lost, do not hesitate to call out. You’ll find my hearing is quite sharp.”
There was a lot of scuffling and chattering as the group followed him into the mist.
“We’ve got a bloodycatfor a tour guide. What a world.What. A. World.”
“I’m never looking at a cat the same way again.”
“…will I ever remember?”
I stopped dead in my tracks asthatvoice snaked through my ears again. The same one I’d heard on the ship.
“Babe?” Jackson tugged on my arm.
“…more words. Lost. Always lost.”
That voice had an…accent. A delightful one to boot. It sounded British—a high brow sort of British, though. The sort that belonged more on the royals than on the common folk.
But it was also…familiar.I’d never heard it before. Ever. But my heart bounced in my chest as though it was a dear and long-lost friend speaking to me.
I peered behind me, watching the shifting current of faces as people lurched by, hastening to stay with the rest of the group. I saw no one I recognized.No one.But thatvoice.
“Pippi!” Jackson gave my arm a sharper tug. “C’mon. What are you doing?”
“I…” I swiped my sweaty palm over my jacket, making sure the sleeves were secured in their knot around my waist. “Thought I saw someone I knew.”
Jackson’s brow rose. “I doubtthat.”
“Right. Yeah. Because we’re the riffraff slumming it with the royals, right?”
I hadnoidea where that came from. The comment and the snark. Both had justburstout of me.
Jackson’s head whipped as though I’d slapped him. “Babe…”
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, leaning up to peck his cheek. “I’m just…a little cranky right now. And a lot woozy. I need a nap.”
He nodded. “Me too.” He stroked a hand along my back, giving my rump a playful squeeze, before he took my arm again. “Almost there.”
“Lost…”
My heart clenched as the voice echoed in my ear again.
“All. Lost.”
My gut squiggledwith nerves.Leftover from the ship, I assumed. Because, well,anxiety.It did strange things to the body. Like making it hear voices, apparently.
Because that was theonlyexplanation I had for that weirdness.
But even as we trekked inland, and the whooshing of the sea faded into the distance, my belly still tumbled around itself.
And then I figured it was the island throwing me off kilter. Because the fog was…interesting.To say the least. Verygothic, with the way it draped around the spiky boulders and gravelly soil that made for most of the landscape.
“Is it always this foggy?” a woman asked at one point.
“Oh yes,” came the cat’s drizzling response. “Always. The only place you have a chance of seeing the sun is in the mountains at the northernmost point of the isle. We do have hiking trails—for beginner and experienced hikers. The brochure will give you more information.”
