Chapter 12

The Lady Skirts flicker,then wink out. At first, I think I'm imagining it when they light up again to make a glowing path down to the rocky beach where a familiar figure stands on a promontory, long hair blowing loose in the wind.

This time, I feel the call in the surge of heat to my fingertips. But every ounce of my rational mind denies that the so-called ley lines my father mentioned give this island magic.

And still, I'd be willing to bet: it's not just the island that's intruding in my thoughts.

It's him.

I hurry down to the water's edge, the Lady Skirts pulsing gently as I pass. Liam turns when I approach, as if he's expecting me.

I call out, my voice muffled by the wind and crashing breakers. "Why were you so rude to Evan?"

"You wouldn't understand," he shouts over the waves. "But, how could you?"

I suck in a lungful of salty air to calm myself and peer beyond the waves to where a cluster of seals leap and cavort. "I know about how you islanders believe this place is spooked and how you want to chase outsiders away, so you don't need to be coy with me. Just tell me why you showed up tonight. And why you got rid of my research notes."

"What are you talking about?"

"Jeez," I say, and turn away, headed up to the cottage. I'm too tired for this guy and his games.

Liam hops down from the rocks and blocks my path. Barefoot, shirtless, wearing the same filthy pants from earlier in the day, he looks more like a shipwreck survivor than a resort waiter. "Why exactly did you come to this island?"

"Why is that any of your business? As far as I can tell, there's no wall around this place keeping away outsiders. In fact, you all seem happy to take our money."

Liam remains in my way, refusing to budge. "The real answer," he demands.

I swallow down the bitter taste at the back of my throat. The cold wind whips damp hair into my face. My chest aches with the need to tell him. To finally tell someone. "Because," I stammer, teeth chattering, "because of my best friend, Tyler Fredericks. He's from Salttain, but left a long time ago. Do you know him?"

"Tyler Fredericks," Liam says, his words nearly drowned out by the pounding surf. "I don't know anyone by that name." He stares at me as if seeing me for the first time, his face so damp with ocean spray it's hard to tell if he's holding back tears.

"Everyone on this island lies," I say. "So, I don't know why I expected you to tell me the truth. Tyler had tickets for us both to visit. He told me he had family here, and that he worried about this island's future. Then he died in a freak accident, and I came anyway to find my famous dead dad alive—but no one admits to knowing Tyler at all except the Lamberts. Or if his supposed Aunt Millie exists." I debate telling him about the mysterious parcel and the strange books within, but feel the urge to hold onto some secrets of my own. "So far it's been great."

Liam shakes his head. "I'm sorry. We are—we do tend to be pretty insular."

"I was hoping you'd at least know someone who could tell me who his parents were."

He shrugs. "I wish I could help with that. Lots of kids on Salttain don't know who their parents are either. It's fun like that here." On the bluffs, the Lady Skirts dim and flicker out. "What makes you think I have all the answers?"

"You have to know something," I say. "You said the island speaks to you. What did you mean?"

Liam kicks at the sand, then picks up a stone and throws it into the waves. "Nothing really. Just that this place does get under your skin. And that I hate to leave in the fall."

"Why do you leave?"

"You know," he says dreamily. "It's time to go."

Chilled, I hug my arms to my chest. "Your sister said I should stay away from you."

He lets out a snort. "She thinks I'm a reckless idiot."

"Are you?"

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

"You're giving me a migraine," I say, exasperated.

Liam smiles, fishes a sprig of leaves with sapphire berries from his pants pocket, and presses it into my palm. I will my heart to slow, to not let this spooky, gorgeous boy get the better of me. Despite my ambiguous feelings over Tyler and what he was to me, I owe him some restraint at the very least.

"Mash these up, leaves and all. Boil some water, pour it into a mug, and stir the mixture in. It will help the cut on your da's head heal faster and relieve the dizzy spells and headaches he's going to have. You can also use them on the migraine I'm causing."

"Did you say the headache my dad is going to have?"

Liam smiles, eyes crinkling. "These are Sapphire Sparkers," he says. "Good for energy and inspiration. The nightberries I gave you when you hurt your ankle are for rapid healing—and forgetting trauma. You should get back inside."

"Forgetting trauma," I repeat. "I knew it! You tried to make me forget. But I didn't!"

"Worry less about what I have to say and listen more to the island. Maybe it will speak to you, too."

In the distance, small creatures break the surface of the water and drift slowly toward us. "Look!" I say, ignoring his Yoda-like attempts at wisdom. "It's the seals. I'd love to see them close up some day."

"You'll have to win their trust."

"Maybe if I feed them?"

"They're smarter than you think. One day, I'll bring you to have a sea creature meet-and-greet."

"I thought you said they were shy."

"They like me." Liam winks. Then he turns, bounds to the end of the rocky ledge, and plunges into the waves.

Stunned, I watch his strong strokes slice through the restless water. When he sinks below the surface, my shock turns to fear. He's been submerged for too long.

I race back and forth on the jetty, reliving the night Tyler died. Then I spot him, a speck on the waves, impossibly far out where the seals gather.

He waves once, then dives under again, disappearing from sight.