Chapter 6 Archie
Archie
Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, Archie debated driving to the far side of Latharna to see if he could spot any signs of the Selkie.
It would be a risky move, and he couldn’t afford to be spotted by any lurking off the coast. Worse still, he had nothing to defend himself with if he came under attack.
Ina’s battle readiness always seemed paranoid, but right now, he wished he’d listened.
Patience didn’t come naturally, so he drove home the long way around the island, taking the backroads to Riverside. Getting stuck behind a tractor pulling a load of freshly cut grass added to his journey, but it helped settle his mind, or at least, it redirected his frustration.
He was almost home when Tilly’s old beige car sped towards him, headlights flashing. He braked and pulled over as she flew by without slowing, no doubt on her way home after visiting Ina. Archie’s stomach lurched. There would almost certainly be a baked “treat” waiting for him when he got in.
He drove up the twisty driveway to Riverside and parked beside Ina’s car.
The blinds shifted in the living room, a room they only really used during Christmas, but one that offered the best view of the driveway.
Ina had clearly been watching for him, and would likely have spent the entire morning pacing the floor if Tilly hadn’t distracted her.
Archie waved, even though she was likely marching into the kitchen, desperate to know how things with Malachi went.
“Where is he?” Ina didn’t wait for Archie to fully open the kitchen door before starting her interrogation. “I thought you were going to speak to him this morning.”
“He had to stay at The Den.” Archie held up his hands to broker peace. “I’ll pick him up later and talk to him then.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Ina tutted, filling the teapot with freshly boiled water. “When’s he finished?”
“Nomi will be back in a couple of hours.” Archie looked around the kitchen with a raised eyebrow. “Were you cleaning?” The sharp sting of lemon and bleach caught his nose. Ina had clearly scrubbed every inch of the kitchen while he was meant to be talking to Malachi.
“I don’t want him down there on his own.” Ignoring the question, Ina slammed the teapot on the table, making the tea slosh out the spout.
How the Wolfendens didn’t go through more crockery, was a miracle. Cups usually bore the brunt of their frustrations. “You need to—”
“Tell me to relax, Archie, and you’ll see what happens.” Ina jabbed a teaspoon at him like a weapon.
Archie took a deep breath and peeked into the box to see what Tilly had brought. His stomach grumbled. She’d stopped at Lucky Crumbs before calling. He wiggled his fingers over the contents and let fate decide, plucking out a large cream-filled bun.
“Did you speak to Bob?” Ina sat down, posture straight, ready to talk business. Otherworld business.
“I did.” Archie spooned several sugars into his tea. “He called you an old fox.”
Ina shot him a withering look that bore into his soul, dragging him back to the topic at hand.
“Bob says they’ll be here in a day or two.” Archie took a loud slurp of tea. A day or two gave them time to prepare for any danger—to the Wolfendens and the people of Latharna. Right now, if Murdock was right, time was their only advantage.
“What did the sea say?” Ina pursed her lips.
“That they’re all but extinct, and if we leave them be, they’ll leave us be.” Archie nodded as if he could force the words into truth, but the lie sat sour in his stomach.
The Selkie would be out for revenge. They had no choice, not after what he did to their shoal while they slept.
He massaged his temple to ease the pressure building behind his eyes.
It was barely mid-morning, yet exhaustion was already creeping in.
No one slept well in the days leading up to Rhys’ anniversary.
“If they take another child, we’re as responsible as they are.” Ina clutched her mug, and stared at him through the rising steam.
Archie bit into his bun to avoid responding.
Ina’s judgment of the Otherworld had always been ruthless, but now that ruthlessness had an edge to it, sharpened by losses that never eased—first their father, who she refused to speak about, and then Rhys.
She framed it as duty, as Wolfenden responsibility, but lurking under it all lay wounds that still bled.
It drove her more than she’d ever admit, and that frightened him almost as much as the man he became when he slaughtered the Selkie.
“Archie,” Ina pressed on, not giving Archie time to answer, “we all know at least one person disappears from the shoreline when the Selkie are here. It’s tragic, yes, but that’s Latharna.
” She set down her mug and pointed at him.
“But the last time they didn’t just take someone from the coast, they took several people, and an innocent child.
They had no business coming inland, but they came up the river for Rhys.
Maybe they were young, immature Selkie, but…
” Her voice tightened. “They should’ve been better than that. The Otherworld needs to be better.”
“Why is it our job to police the Otherworld?” Blood slicked across Archie’s palms—an old memory rising fast. A strand of long black hair, clung to his arm, warm with sweat and gore.
Screams tore through the rafters, starting human and ending feral.
He still couldn’t tell which part of the noise belonged to him.
He blinked the memory away. “Would we be having this conversation if they didn’t take Rhys? ”
Ina’s eyes snapped wide. “Wolfendens have lived on Latharna for centuries. We were one of the first families here. If we don’t protect Latharna and the people on it, who will?
The police?” She scoffed and shook her head, white hair whipping across her face.
“They can barely handle a boisterous evening at the Craic and Barrel.”
“I just need to be sure.” The cream on Archie’s bun churned in his stomach—a new and unwelcome experience for anything baked by Thelma Curran.
“They took Rhys. That’s all that matters. That we are one hundred percent sure of.”
Ina’s phone vibrated across the table. Tilly’s face—from her accidental pink-and-orange hair disaster—flashed on the screen.
“It’s Tilly.” Ina sprang up and hurried into the living room, phone to her ear.
“Mad old bat probably crashed into a sheugh.” Archie took a sip of tea to settle the nausea, “Have you seen how fast she drives?”
He shuddered, staring at the place at the table where Rhys used to sit, and old memories rose like silt disturbed from the riverbed.
He’d done what needed to be done for Rhys, and for Latharna.
But he could never ever admit to Ina that, in the middle of the chaos, it was the first time he’d felt truly alive.
The Selkie’s behaviour had been unexpected, but not entirely out of character.
They’d faded to old-fashioned tales grandparents told to frighten children.
His own behaviour though, wildly out of character, but instinctive, terrified him.
For a heartbeat, in the boathouse, surrounded by bodies, he’d half expected to shift—to let wolf form crack through his skin and take over.
But nothing happened, only silence and a strange hollow calm.
“Archie?” Ina’s voice shook from the doorway.
Archie jumped. She stood tense, face pale.
“What’s happened?”
“It’s the mayor, Martin Johnston.” Ina paused as though choosing her words carefully. “They found his remains down at the Polar Bear.”
Archie’s shoulders tensed. Murdock said the Selkie wouldn’t arrive for days, but they were already here.
“Tilly drove past and was stopped by the police. They think it was a tragic accident, that he fell into the water while fishing and was attacked by a shark.” She scoffed.
“A shark, Archie. In Latharna. Have you ever heard such nonsense?” Her eyes darkened at the sheer stupidity of those who did not see Otherworld forces even when they were right in front of them.
“Archie?” Ina pressed. “Did you hear me?”
Archie gripped the handle of his mug until it cracked in two. Ina was right. It was time for action. He sprang up from the table to get ready for battle—no hesitation, fear or doubt. This time, he wouldn’t leave any Selkie alive.