Submerging (Swans Landing) Read Free Page A

half-brother was waiting in the water for me to return.
    “Maybe she’s a mermaid, Malloy,” one of the other men said, laughing. “She has to get back to her own people, you know.”
    The men laughed and I forced myself to laugh with them. Don’t look nervous, I told myself. These men obviously didn’t believe in stories about mermaids. They had no reason to believe I was anything other than an insane girl who took frigid swims too far offshore.
    But still, the gray-haired man called Malloy eyed me with a curious look. “Why don’t you have a seat in the cabin,” he said, smiling kindly. “Get out of this wind. We’ll take you back to the harbor.”
    My gaze darted toward the water. All that stood between me and freedom was a deck covered with glistening, flopping fish, gasping their last breaths. What would the men do if I suddenly ran for the side and jumped overboard? Would they call the police? Would they send divers after me?
    “Don’t attract attention,” Grandma had always told me. Tourists visited Swans Landing during the summer and the way we kept ourselves safe was to keep our secret and remain invisible in front of outsiders.
    Sorry, Josh, I said silently as I squeezed my eyes shut and let out a long breath. Then I opened them and smiled at Malloy.
    “Thank you,” I said through clenched teeth. “That would be nice.”
    I let Malloy lead me into the small cabin of the boat, hoping Josh would be smart enough to stay out of sight until we reached land.
     
     
     
     
     

Chapter Three
     
    The fishing boat pulled into the harbor as the sun sank in the west behind us. I’d had to stay on the boat while the men took in their catch for the day. They were polite and courteous, and I didn’t feel too out of place aboard a fishing boat. I’d spent my life growing up near, on, and in the water. My best friend Dylan Waverly and I had helped Lake Westray reel in crab pots and rake for oysters in the Pamlico Sound. The water was my life.
    I kept watch at the bow of the boat, my hands gripping the rails as the land approached. The day had never warmed up much and I shivered in the strong breeze that swirled around me. My eyes scanned the water constantly for signs of Josh, but he was nowhere near the surface, which left me both relieved and worried.
    Malloy, the captain of the ship, had warned me several times that I might get seasick, being so close to the front of the boat. But I never got seasick. It wasn’t something that happened to finfolk.
    “Where are we?” I asked as the other men rushed around, tossing ropes and climbing overboard to the creaky dock below. A city lay clustered around the shores of the harbor, sloping among the hills that stretched out behind it.
    Malloy eyed me, raising one bushy gray eyebrow. “You’re a long way from home, aren’t you?” He’d kept his eye on me ever since I’d arrived on the boat. Goosebumps prickled along my spine whenever I caught him staring at me with a look like he knew I was more than what I seemed to be.
    When I didn’t respond, he said, “We’re in Stromness. On the Mainland. Orkney.”
    Orkney! So we had at least made it to the right area.
    “I’m here visiting family and got a little lost while swimming,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “Maybe you can help me. Do you know of anyone by the name of Mooring?”
    Malloy scratched his head. “Mooring? No, can’t say as I do. I know many families here in Stromness, but no Moorings.”
    Finding the finfolk and my mother wouldn’t be easy. There had to be a clue, something I could go on that would lead me to the next step from here. Josh’s last name wouldn’t be much help. Canavan was purely a human name. His finfolk genes came from his great-grandmother.
    When I asked if he knew any Waverlys, Malloy shook his head no. I pushed aside thoughts of Dylan and focused on other finfolk family names I knew. I ran through a short list—most of us were related to each other and shared