Chapter Fifty-Six

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

Scarwell Woods, Orkney

May 2024

CLEM

She wakes early in Edina’s cottage in St. Margaret’s Hope, the silver waters of the sound lapping at the cobblestones of the front garden. It’s peaceful, and she feels strangely calm.

“Would you like coffee?” Edina calls from the kitchen.

“Yes, please.”

“What about oats for the little one?”

“She’s still asleep. The drive really took it out of her yesterday.”

Clem sits at the kitchen island as the coffee boils in a moka pot on the stove. Edina looks different in this setting, less clan chief than happily retired artist, her colorful paintings depicting animals and ancient stones hanging on every wall.

“Gama!” Freya calls, and she heads into the bedroom to find her sitting up and bleary-eyed, her little arms reaching up.

“Can I ask what Freya’s surname is?” Edina says.

“Woodbury,” she says.

“I see. Is that your father’s surname?”

“Yes.”

“And what was your mother’s?”

“Balfour. Why?”

“Interesting. Have you Orcadian ancestry, perhaps?”

“Actually, yes. My daughter, Erin, did a DNA test that said her family line is from these parts.”

“Look a little deeper into that,” Edina says. “A lot of Triskele folk come from Orkney.” She moves closer to Clem, taking her hands. “You might find this journey has brought you full circle, in a way.”

Edina’s voice is tender, the suggestion one of kindness. Clem nods.

“I’ll do that.”

She pulls out her phone with a sigh. Four messages from Quinn. He’s probably angry that she’s gone without telling him where. And he probably needs to head back to Yorkshire to save his marriage, so she needs to let him know she’ll be back tonight.

But when she rings him, he doesn’t shout, doesn’t demand to know where she is.

“It’s going to be okay,” he says.

“What’s okay?”

“Senna made a statement. She went down to the police station last night with a lawyer and told them exactly what happened on the night of the fire. She said that Arlo’s death wasn’t Erin’s fault. They all participated in the ceremony willingly and Arlo allowed his wrists to be bound.”

Clem claps her hands to her mouth. “Oh God,” she says. “What did the police say?”

“Well, they said they’ll get back to us. But I think it’s a good move in the right direction, wouldn’t you say?”

She nods at the phone. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

“And I’m here in Erin’s room,” he says brightly. “She’s doing better. Sleepy, but they lowered the sedation last night and she’s doing well. You want to speak to her?”

She doesn’t know if she’s answered or not, she’s that surprised by the tone of the call, by the news of Senna, and of Erin.

“Mum?” a voice says. It’s Erin, Erin , not Nyx.

“Erin?”

“Mama?” Freya asks.

“Oh God, is that Freya?” Erin shouts.

“Yes. She’s here with me.” A sob forms in her throat. “How are you feeling, love?”

“Groggy,” Erin says. “And wet.”

Clem laughs. “Wet?”

“It’s all the creams they have to put on.”

“She’s on a lot of morphine,” Quinn says in the background. “And she’s still under some sedation. But we’re hopefully coming off that tomorrow.”

“Mama!” Freya says, trying to get the phone from her. Clem hears Quinn speak to someone and realizes he’s having an exchange with Bee.

“Clem, stay on the line,” he says. “I’m just letting the nurse change Erin’s dressings.” She waits, not daring to hope that Erin has improved, that whatever Edina and the Triskele did last night has had an effect.

“Are you there?” Quinn says.

“Yes, yes I’m here.”

“Good. I’m just outside the hospital. I didn’t want anyone to hear what I want to tell you. Are you sitting down?”

“No.”

“Sit down for this, trust me.”

“Okay. I’m sitting. What is it you want to tell me?”

“Erin told me who Freya’s father is.”

Clem stiffens, barely able to believe this news.

“Who is it?”

“Arlo,” he says.