Raquel Byrnes (29 page)

“Rosetta,” Simon said. “It’s all right. Come here.” He reached out, tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, and ran his finger down the curve of my neck, and it sent a thrill through me, my response to him so immediate even in the midst of all of this. He bent, kissed the line made by Nalla’s dagger, his breath hot on my skin. “You are positively fearless.”

I was anything but fearless. I’d nearly abandoned him. Nearly broke my promise to stand by him. And still he looked at me like that. With his heart recklessly open.

“Simon,” I said, my voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. In the room, after talking to the sheriff, I let everyone’s whispers about you scare me.” Remembering the hurt in his eyes, a pang of guilt trilled through me.

“Rosetta, the fact that you’re still here despite how everything looks means more than words can destroy.” He kissed my eyelids, the tip of my nose, the line of my jaw. “You have a truer heart than anyone I’ve ever known. I love you for it.”

His arms slipped along my waist, pulling me close. All the fear and confusion quieted as I melted against him. So strong and warm, the angles of his body held mine, and I clung to him. I felt protected; safe. Despite what others said, when he pressed his lips to mine, my heart tumbled with something more than longing. More than heat and want. It felt real and unmistakably right. I wasn’t just seeing what I wanted. I knew in the deepest part of my soul that I loved him.

Noise from the other side of the fire pulled our attention. The men broke from the crowd and walked towards the shore.

Simon and I followed, standing a bit away from the rest.

Josif looked over from the group, nodded once to Simon, his face unreadable.

A boat approached, the dark around it broken by the glow of a lantern that hung over the two men inside. It reminded me of the boat used to ferry souls across the river Styx—low and creaking with a black shrouded ferryman at the helm.

We stood farther from the bonfire now, and I felt the chill of the night air blowing through my hair.

“What’s going to happen?” I whispered.

“Deakon is the leader of this clan,” Simon said. “If anyone can settle this, it would be him.”

“What, like a gypsy king?” I asked, and Simon chuckled.

“Not quite, but things are decided by a vote of the council. Deakon is the head of it, followed by his son, Siyah. There are five others.”

“Do you know them? I mean, well?” The boat drew closer, the figures of the men clearer.

“I’ve known Siyah since childhood,” Simon said.

“Well, that’s good, right?”

“We fought a lot.” Simon shook his head, his gaze across the water on the craft. “Siyah is better suited to another time, another place. He has fire in his blood, that one.”

“Will that hurt you in this meeting? What if they decide that Nalla’s solution is best?” My fingers found the cut at my throat, and I shuddered.

“Nalla’s mind is clouded with grief. These men are reasonable,” Simon said and took my hand from my neck, lacing his fingers through mine. “Siyah understands loss.”

The boat hit the shore, and the men helped to pull it further onto the sand.

The two men climbed out and walked over to where Simon and I stood. The older man, Deakon was dressed in the baggy pants and traditionally sewn clothes of his clan. Silver hair, long and pulled into ponytail, set off his dark eyes.

Siyah stood just behind him. Clad in a dark shirt and trousers covered with the long black coat of a sailor, his piercing blue eyes held mine before moving onto Simon.

“Simon. I’ve been told you wish to bring something to light,” Deakon said. His voice was low and guttural, as if he’d first learned to form his words in another language.

“Deakon,” Simon said, extending his hand. They shook and Simon nodded to Siyah. “This is Rosetta.”

“The meeting was called on your behalf, Simon. Where do you want to speak?” Siyah asked. He nodded to the others. “Away from here, I imagine.”

“The rocks,” Simon said and pointed to an area just beyond the light of the bonfire.

“Strangely appropriate,” Siyah said with a slight upturn of his lip. He turned to his father.

Deakon nodded. “That’s fine.”

I hesitated, but Simon pulled me with him as we made our way to a pile of rocks near the cliff face.

Deakon and Siyah followed, the lantern from the boat our only light this far from the fire. Siyah set the lamp on the surface of the rocks.

“You’ve accused the families of dark things, Simon,” Deakon said. “The evidence is compelling but does not point to anyone in particular. I don’t know how we can help you find the truth of that night if your own mind keeps it hidden from you.”

“There was a witness,” Simon said. “Someone I didn’t know about until now. I want to talk to her. Hear what she has to say.”

“And if it is not what you hope for?” Siyah asked. “What then?”

“Then I’ll deal with it,” Simon answered, his eyes narrowing at him. “I’ll make it right.”

“The Hales had their chance to do that,” Siyah shot back. “Your father, in particular.”

“Enough,” Deakon said, his hand going up between them. “You two can spar later. For now, we ask Yasmine.”

Deakon turned, waved her over from her place at the fire. Everyone sat or stood near the flames, heads together in whispers, the glances our way full of curiosity.

Yasmine trudged over, still wringing her hands. She emerged within the glow of the lantern, anxiety in her eyes.

“What can you say about this?” Siyah asked. “Speak freely.”

“The night of Amanna’s death I was here.” She pointed to a section of beach just below the face of Echo Cliff. Her gaze darted from mine to Simon’s and back up to the cliff side. “I heard voices. An argument between a man and a woman.”

“Could you hear what they said?” Siyah asked.

“No, it was too far. But it was angry. They shouted at each other. And then I heard a scream—the woman.” She turned to Deakon, her eyes brimming. “I did not know it was Amanna, not then. I heard something land on the ground, but even with the full moon that night, I saw nothing on the sand. I-I thought I had misunderstood, until I heard about Amanna.”

A stricken look flitted across Simon’s face. He ground his jaw, his hand squeezing mine. I craned my neck, looked up at the cliff. I’d stood there, not an hour ago, almost going over as I watched the lights of the gypsy boats float by. With a full moon, it was possible to see people on the cliff’s edge. I believed Yasmine.

“Is there anything more you can remember?” Simon asked. “Was it…did the voice sound—”

“Like yours?” Siyah finished for him. To Yasmine, “Was it Simon up there?”

“I don’t know,” Yasmine said.

“That’s not much.” Simon shook his head, rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. “But the fact that Amanna was not alone when she fell should have come out.”

“And what of your disappearance,” Deakon asked. “After the evidence of the skin under her nails.”

“The what?” Simon’s face registered shock. “There’s more?”

“You didn’t know?” I asked, surprised.

“That there was evidence of my wife’s killer? No.” He rammed his fist on the rock, walked a few paces away. Turning back to Deakon, he shook his head. “I was told that Levine ruled it an accident.”

“Then why go missing?” Siyah asked. “And at such a convenient time to ensure an alibi. The evidence room floods, destroys the only key evidence in your wife’s murder, and you just happen to be gone? And why wait to report her missing for two days?”

“I didn’t disappear. Lavender had almost drowned, lost her brother not two weeks before Amanna went missing. She developed an infection in her lungs from the water. I was with her in the ICU at the hospital in Seattle.” His eyes bored into Siyah’s gaze. “No one told me
any
of this.”

“Nalla said that someone kept Yasmine’s account buried,” I said. “Were you threatened?”

“I tried to tell the sheriff,” she answered. “When he was here investigating. I saw him at
Mănâncă
and tried to ask him to meet me.”

“But he wouldn’t?” That didn’t make sense to me. Levine seemed genuinely angry that he’d not had any evidence.

“I did not get a chance to ask him. But that night, an envelope was pushed under the door to my shop.”

“Money,” Simon said, his face falling. “For your silence.”

“And a threat,” Yasmine said, her chin jutting out with defiance. “I wouldn’t have taken the money, but the money came with a note. That to talk was to accept my death in the same manner as Amanna’s.”

“What?” Simon shook his head.

“She was afraid for her life,” I whispered. “That’s why she never said anything.”

“I may not remember that night, but I would never do such a thing,” Simon said.

“I can’t see Simon threatening an old woman,” Siyah agreed. “But your father
would
do this, Simon, on your behalf.”

Dawning spread across Simon’s features, and he staggered back as if physically hit with the knowledge. “If my father did this, then he believes I killed my own wife.”

“What do you say, Rosetta?” Siyah asked me. His brow furrowed as he gazed at me. “Surely, you must have a reason for staying by the side of a man who may have thrown his wife to her death.”

“Watch it,” Simon growled.

“I want to know,” Siyah continued, unaffected by Simon’s anger. “What convinces you he is innocent?”

“Simon’s blackouts are not only happening to him anymore.” I looked up at the cliff with a warble of fear running down my spine. “I nearly fell from there a few hours ago. I was in a trance, had been, apparently, in that state for hours.”

“This is a new development,” Siyah said, amusement on his face.

“Yes, and it’s a telling one,” I said. “It means that Simon’s blackouts are not a mysterious phenomenon, a relic of his guilt. If they’re happening to me, then they’re happening on purpose. I think that’s why Simon came here tonight. To find out if someone has been doing…something to him.”

“Again,” Siyah said to Simon. “I question that blame.”

“Really? The circle of candles, the binding and protection with the ashes, they all point to one of the families here,” Simon answered.

“What could we possibly be doing to you? There is no magic to take a man’s mind like you say,” Deakon said. “Our families do not embrace the dark practices of our ancestors.”

The old man nodded once to me and then turned, lumbering away toward the boat. I turned to Simon. He watched him leave, his jaw working.

Siyah took the lantern in hand, but I reached out and grabbed his sleeve.

“That’s it? You just declare that it wasn’t any of you, and we just go our separate ways?”

“Let go, love,” Simon said and slipped his arm around my back, hugging me to his side. “They’ve said all they intend to.”

“If we wished you harm, we’d do it with a blade,” Siyah added, his gaze going to my neck. “What baffles me is that you refuse to ask yourself the most important questions in all of this.”

“What is that?” I asked.

“Who had the most to gain from Amanna’s death?” Siyah asked. “And who would need to keep you from finding out why.”

36

Cruiser lights in the distance by the village street flashed blue and red across the rocks of the cliff as the meeting broke up. The search for me had continued while Simon and I were here, and we needed to get back. Josif came over, his arms out in a questioning gesture.

“What of it, Fratele?” he asked.

“There are secrets, but not from your families, I think.” Simon stuck his hand out. “I’m sorry I hit you, Josif. You’re like a brother to me and—”

“And brothers forgive,” Josif said. He nodded to me, smiled. “She is fierce for one so pale, Simon. You are blessed to have her by your side.”

“Thank you, Josif,” I said. “For everything.”

We walked back up the road to the village hand in hand. Simon’s silence worried me. His expression was troubled, brooding. What we’d learned tonight only created more questions. We passed under the arching street lamps, and their metal scrollwork cast shadow cages on the cobblestones.

“We have to talk with Levine,” Simon said. “Tell him what Yasmine said about the argument.”

“Simon,” I said, stopping us. “If you tell him that Amanna was arguing with a man moments before she was killed, he’ll arrest you.”

“That might not be such a bad idea, Rosetta.”

“Of course it’s a bad idea! What are you thinking?”

“Either I did this and need to answer for it, or someone wants it to look that way. If I learned anything tonight, it’s that whatever this is, justice, revenge…you nearly died because of it.”

“And so giving up is your solution?”

“I won’t put you in danger.” He touched his fingertips to the cut on my throat. “Not more than I already have.”

We walked towards the road that ran parallel to the woods surrounding Shadow Bay Hall. I heard the squawk of the squad car radio and tightened my grip on his hand as we neared.

“Don’t do this.” I turned, held the curve of his jaw, and looked in his eyes. “At least wait until morning.”

“I’m not waiting.” He pulled away, and we started walking. “Two years have gone by without knowing what happened. I’m tired of hiding things.”

“But, Simon,” I begged, “there’s no evidence it was you on that cliff with her. We can still—”

“Do you know where I woke up that morning?” His voice took on an edge, and he grasped me by the shoulders and pulled me to face him. “I was at my son’s grave, Rosetta. I fought with his mother. I blamed her for his death, and then I woke up covered in dirt and scratches.” His voice broke, and he let me go, stepped back. I trembled, looking at him as he fought for control. “She was a grieving mother, and I hurt her further with my own words.”

“Simon, please, let’s at least figure out the blackouts.” I was frantic to keep him near me. Over his shoulder, a deputy noticed us, turned to Sheriff Levine, and they started toward us. “Deakon said they didn’t—”

“I don’t need them to admit it to know the blackouts are probably a result of some tincture or powder. Nalla’s anger was evident. You know that plants can be just as powerful as pills, don’t you?”