10 THE TRUTH ISN’T PRETTY

THE PUFFIN EGG was salty and slightly fishy—but Astrid wolfed it down fast.

Finn had fried the egg on a large flat stone he'd carried into the mouth of the cave and set amongst the embers. He'd used a thin shard of stone to flip the egg onto a smaller rock he'd collected, which they were using as a makeshift trencher. In his foraging, he'd managed to collect four eggs. They were larger than those from a fowl, and although the meal wouldn't fill their bellies, it would take the edge off their hunger for a bit.

Astrid watched as Finn fried the second egg and flipped it onto the stone. She'd thought he'd eat that one, but, to her surprise, he handed it over to her.

Remembering her manners, Astrid took it with a nod.

They'd spoken little since Finn had returned with the precious eggs nestled in the crook of his arm. He'd been away a while, and in the meantime, Astrid had walked farther down the beach, collecting more driftwood.

She'd also discovered that Finn hadn't been exaggerating. This isle was tiny. It would take less than an hour to walk its perimeter. As she'd collected wood for the fire, Astrid kept glancing out to sea, hoping to see a passing birlinn or merchant's cog. But the flat blue surface was unblemished this morning.

Returning to the cave, she'd added her wood to the pile and waited.

Around noon, Finn had reappeared with the eggs. He'd then produced a flint from a pouch upon his belt and used a handful of dry grass and twigs as tinder to get a fire started .

And all the while, Astrid silently looked on. Her mood was as somber as her companion's face. Neither of them had anything to say to each other, and the silence suited her well.

Finishing her second egg now, she watched as Finn cooked his own meal before devouring his eggs within moments.

He then glanced up, meeting her eye squarely for the first time in hours. "We won't have an endless supply of puffin eggs," he pointed out, his voice slightly surly, as if he resented having to address her. "I'll see if I can fashion a slingshot and get us a puffin or gannet … but we'll need other sources of food too."

"I take it ye're capable of spearfishing?"

His mouth compressed. "Good enough." He glanced over at the pile of firewood. "Maybe I can sharpen a point from one of those."

Astrid's belly tightened as the full reality of their predicament settled over her.

They were stranded, and no one knew they were here. Nothing grew on this isle, and they risked exhausting their supplies.

Her breathing became shallow then. Until yesterday, a dull fear lurked in the marrow of her bones about what might happen if Kendric Mackinnon bested her brother at Dounarwyse. Would the ‘Butcher of Dùn Ara' lay siege to Duart then too, pressing his advantage?

But now it was difficult to worry about anything but the fact she was stranded on this rock. She imagined the future then. What would become of them if no one found them here?

Astrid shuddered and wrapped her arms about herself.

Marking her reaction, Finn frowned. "Best not to think about what lies ahead," he said tersely. "It'll only drive ye mad."

"I can't help it," she gasped out the words. "There's a very real possibility we'll die here."

Curse her, she needed to be strong now. She couldn't crumble. Not yet.

His mouth twisted into a humorless smile. "Aye … what an irony, eh? To think that the last person each of us will see will be our enemy."

Astrid stiffened. Her mouth pursed then. "Aye … maybe this is God's punishment," she replied. "Wrath is one of the seven deadly sins, after all. "

Across the fire, Finn stilled. A moment later, his gaze narrowed. "Aye," he said quietly. "Although I won't give my anger up."

Astrid stared back at him before heat flared in her stomach, melting the fear and dread that had frozen there. "Neither will I."

"Well, it looks as if there's something ye and I finally agree on."

Astrid drew herself up. The sneer in his voice made her lust for blood. Leaning forward, she listened to the quick thud of her heart. "My only regret is that the laird saved yer neck that day," she said slowly, her voice vibrating with anger. "Ye deserved to be strung up at those crossroads for what ye did."

Finn leaned in, mirroring her gesture. "I didn't kill Maggie," he said, enunciating each word carefully. "I swore it before ye all."

Astrid's mouth twisted. "Yer story was weak. Ye stole a rowboat and took Maggie out. She went swimming and then got into trouble and drowned." Rage now drummed like rain on rock inside her. "But Maggie was an able swimmer. She wouldn't have gotten into difficulty. What really happened is that ye took liberties, and she rebuffed ye … and in a fit of temper, ye drowned her."

Finn's hazel eyes glinted dangerously. "No."

"Did things play out a little differently?" she demanded, deliberately goading him now. "Did she try to swim back to shore, and in yer zeal to stop her, ye accidentally pushed her under the water?" Astrid's throat tightened then, her voice catching on those last words. Lord, it was hard to talk about Maggie. Even now, years on, the thought of her friend's terror in those last moments twisted her up inside. How she wished her friend hadn't stepped onto that boat with Finn.

"No."

He straightened up, a nerve ticking under one eye. Finn's features had hardened, and his gaze was flinty. His hands had balled into fists now; he was having trouble leashing his temper. "Ye couldn't stomach the truth, Astrid," he growled. "It would shatter the rosy memories ye have of yer friend."

"Excuse me?"

"Ye saw just one side to Maggie Garvie … but she had another, darker, face, and she— "

"Dog!" Astrid leaped to her feet, cutting him off. "How dare ye insult the dead?"

He stared up at her. "I'm not," he ground out. "I'm telling ye what happened."

Astrid started to tremble then, such was the force of the fury churning inside her. "So, Maggie revealed herself as less than perfect, did she?" she snarled. "And ye killed her for it?"

Finn lurched to his feet. "No!" He then stepped around the fire and strode toward her. "Curse it, woman … still yer tongue and listen!"

Astrid jerked back as if he'd just slapped her. She'd never seen Finn lose his temper before, and fear speared her when she witnessed the fury in his eyes. Backing up, she tried to escape him, but he kept coming, and moments later, her spine hit the damp wall of the cave.

Finn stepped in close, placing a hand on either side of her head to cage her in.

Astrid reached up and shoved at his chest, yet he didn't move. "Get away from me!" she gasped. Her voice rose in pitch, revealing that she was on the edge of panic. Deep down, she'd craved this confrontation for years, but now that it was happening, she was desperate to get away.

It wasn't playing out as she'd imagined.

Finn's proximity overwhelmed her senses and made her feel out of control.

Coward! a voice screamed in her head. It's easy to be brave at a distance … but where is yer courage when ye truly need it?

"I'll keep my distance all right," Finn countered, each word hard and clipped. "But not until I tell ye what really happened that day … the tale I've told only the old laird. Not even Loch or Jack have heard it."

"Why keep it to yerself?" Lifting her chin, Astrid glared up at him, even as her heart quailed. This close, she could see the flecks of green and dark brown in her adversary's eyes. She could taste his banked rage.

"Because the truth isn't pretty."

Astrid's blood started to roar in her ears. She didn't understand where he was going with this, yet she didn't want to hear it. She wasn't going to let him speak ill of her best friend, the kindest soul that Astrid had ever met .

Long moments passed, and when Finn continued, there was a rasp to his voice. "The truth is that it was never Maggie I wanted … it was ye ."

Astrid froze, her lips parting. Of all the things she thought he might say, this wasn't one of them.

Marking her response, Finn's mouth twisted. "Aye, fear not, my infatuation ended the day ye sent the grief-maddened fishermen of Craignure after me … but before that, I pined for the laird's aloof flaxen-haired daughter. I never said a word to Loch and Jack about it … for I knew they'd ridicule me, but in secret, my need for ye grew." He paused then, his gaze narrowing. "It was hopeless though, for ye barely noticed I lived and breathed."

Astrid's chest started to ache, and she realized she'd stopped breathing. Heaving in a lungful of air, she flattened herself hard against the wall, her clenched fists still pressing against his ribs.

But still, Finn didn't budge. "And then yer friend made her interest in me clear," he continued, his voice flattening now. "Maggie was sweet, but it wasn't her I wanted. Nonetheless, I flirted with the lass in front of ye … foolishly believing it might make ye jealous." He gave a soft snort then as if he couldn't believe his own idiocy. "That was a mistake … for she fastened herself to me like a burr. Soon, wherever I went, there she was."

Astrid closed her eyes, squeezing them shut. She willed him to stop talking, to cease his tale now, but it was futile. Now that Finn had begun talking, it was as if a tide had been released. The words flooded forth, and there was no stopping them.

"The months passed … and then, one eve in high summer, Maggie asked me to take her out on the Sound." Finn let out a slow breath, as if steeling himself to continue, before pushing on. "I wasn't interested … but when I told her I wouldn't go, she started weeping … and then, when it was clear her tears weren't having the desired effect, she threatened me."

Astrid's eyes snapped open. " Threatened ye?" His story had turned nonsensical. "What? Did she say she'd blacken yer eye if ye didn't do as she asked?" The idea was ridiculous. Maggie had been small and birdlike, and although leanly built, Finn was far more intimidating .

"No," Finn growled, anger sparking in his gaze once more. "She threatened to go to the laird and tell him that I'd raped her."

Astrid's breathing caught, dizziness sweeping over her. "Liar!"

She smacked her fists into his chest once more, yet Finn shook his head, denying her outburst.

A muscle flexed in his jaw as he continued. "I was angry, yet there was a glint, a desperation, in Maggie's eyes that told me she'd do as she threatened." Finn paused then, his features tightening. "I knew I wasn't popular locally … the wild lad from Islay who thought rules were for other folk. I drank, brawled, and led Loch and Jack into a lot of situations that landed us all in hot water. I'd already gotten in trouble with the laird a few times, and he had me on a final warning. One more transgression and he'd send me back to Dunnyveg in disgrace. I couldn't risk it." He drew in a deep breath then before releasing it slowly. "And so, against my better judgment, I let her blackmail me."