Chapter 24 #3
“I don’t know.” Archie searched the shadows for an answer that didn’t come.
Water slid in and out like a pulse, as though the dilapidated shed was as alive as they were.
They’d planned for violence—swift and decisive.
A fight you could finish. This wasn’t that.
“Murdock said they'd be here for a week. Maybe they've already gone?”
If they were lucky, the shoal would’ve left Latharna as soon as the adolescents failed to return to the nest. Instinct telling them to cut their losses. Leave before—
Archie’s boot snagged. Caught in an old rope hanging loose from the skeleton frame of a boat. He stumbled, instinctively throwing his weight forward to stay upright. For a heartbeat he imagined hands instead of rope. Teeth, water closing in over his head, darkness…
He wrenched free, breathing hard in his chest. Ina’s torch snapped back to the water. The beam skimmed the surface, hunting for disturbance. Aside from a few lazy ripples, it was still.
“Dad?”
The word cut through Archie like a blade. Heat surged up his spine, his vision blurring at the edges as fury slammed into fear, and twisted tight. He’d asked one thing. One bloody thing. Stay in the car.
Light exploded overhead. Archie and Ina both flinched, shielding their eyes from the blinding glare of the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. The shadows vanished in an instant, leaving nowhere to hide. Archie swore under his breath—he hadn’t seen the switch by the door.
Apparently, neither had Ina. “Brilliant,” she muttered, killing her torch.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” Archie bellowed, fury breaking loose now. He surged forward, boot snagging again on the rope, the jerk of it sending a jolt up his leg. He ripped himself free and charged towards Malachi’s voice. Then stopped dead.
Captain Murdock.
The sight landed like a punch to the gut. Archie’s breath stalled, his body going cold even as his pulse spiked.
“Well, now,” Captain Murdock slung one arm comfortably around Malachi’s shoulders as if they were sharing a joke. In the other hand was a harpoon gun, the weight of it resting easily against his hip. “What on earth is happening here?”
Something inside Archie iced over. For years, Murdock’s voice had meant tides and weather warnings.
Early mornings at Portmuck Harbour and a quiet pint in the Craic and Barrel.
A man who knew the sea the way Archie knew the land.
Someone Archie had trusted to keep his mouth shut and his loyalties straight.
And here Murdock was, standing between Archie and his son with a weapon in his hand.
Archie’s fingers tightened on the crossbow until the wood bit into his palms. His chest ached, breath coming too shallow now, thoughts scrambling to catch up with what his eyes were telling him. He raised his weapon, aiming directly at Murdock.
Murdock didn’t move.
The betrayal settled in Archie’s gut, slow and sinking, heavier with every passing second. Ina shifted beside him. Her hand slid to the hilt of her knife, stance widening as she readied herself to pounce.
“Evening, Bob,” Ina’s voice strained thin. “Not often we see you on dry land.”
“No, ma’am.” Murdock nodded and dipped his hat, the gesture familiar enough to sting. His gaze lingered a moment too long. “Thought I’d stretch my legs.”
Archie’s jaw locked. “I thought I told you to stay in the car,” he snapped at Malachi, never taking his eyes off the harpoon.
Malachi flinched. Just a flicker—shoulders tightening, chin dipping—but Archie saw it.
“Oh, don’t be cross at the lad, Archie,” Murdock grinned and ruffled Malachi’s hair like he’d done a hundred times before. “He nearly jumped out of his skin when I knocked on the glass.”
Archie’s stomach twisted hard. Ina’s words from earlier echoed loud in his head, sharp and clear as a bell struck too close.
“On Latharna, I don’t fully trust anyone who isn’t a Wolfenden.”
The boathouse stank of rot, blood, and old salt. It burned Archie’s eyes, made them water, but he didn’t blink. He didn’t dare lower the crossbow to wipe them. Not now. Not with Murdock holding a weapon.
Murdock had one shot. But, so did he.
Archie would bet good money on having the better aim, but he ran the angles anyway—distance, footing, Ina’s position in his periphery.
The calculation was automatic, drilled so deep it didn’t need thought.
If he missed, Ina would have Murdock on the ground before his stray bolt struck stone.
There would be no clean ending for Captain Robert Murdock in this shed.
The certainty of it settled cold and solid in his chest. He would do it.
Without hesitation. If Murdock pulled that trigger, Archie wouldn’t just hunt the Otherworld.
He would put a bolt through a man he’d known for decades, a man he’d trusted and considered a friend.
He wouldn’t cross that line carefully—he’d tear straight over it to get to his son.
“I suppose his only mistake,” Murdock raised his harpoon gun and aimed at both of them, “was sitting in the car. Like bait.”
Archie exhaled through his nose, slow and controlled. His finger hovered over the trigger, close enough to feel the tension coiled in it.
“Why are you here, Bob?” His voice came out low, roughened by something bitter. “Why betray us?”
Murdock shrugged, careless as ever. “This is my shed.” He gestured around with the harpoon. “Been in the family for generations. Built to give the Selkie somewhere safe to nest.” He clicked his tongue. “But it’s not safe anymore.”
Malachi shifted, instinctively edging away. Murdock’s arm snapped tight, dragging him back.
Malachi sucked in a sharp breath. Pain flashed across his face—shock giving way to fear as his eyes found Archie’s.
Something inside Archie lurched. Not rage. Fear.
The world narrowed to Murdock’s arm across Malachi’s shoulders, to the way Malachi’s shoulders hunched like he was trying to make himself smaller.
Archie’s hands shook on the crossbow. He locked his elbows, forced the tremor down, dragging his breathing under control before it broke loose and gave him away.
He’d trusted this man. Shared tables with him. Let him near his children. The hurt cut deep, sharp enough to steal a breath—but then vanished, shoved aside without mercy. There was no room for it now.
“Now what?” Ina’s body coiled, waiting for the perfect moment to attack.
“It ends.” Murdock said.
Then he fired.
Archie didn’t register the sound—just the violent rush of air as the harpoon ripped between him and Ina, close enough to tug his jacket. It struck behind them with a wet, final crack.
They turned together. A Selkie collapsed onto the stone, blood pooling fast beneath it. Its eyes were already glassing over.
Archie stared. His mouth opened and nothing came out. The world lagged, like he had slipped half a second behind it.
“Dad, I didn’t—” Malachi’s voice broke, thin and shaking.
Archie snapped back to reality. He shoved the crossbow into Ina’s hands without breaking stride—boots crunching through old bones and rust. Fury was still there, burning hot, but it snagged on something else. Relief, sharp enough to stab through his chest.
Ina followed beside him, weapon raised, her focus never leaving Murdock.
Murdock released Malachi and lifted his hands, palms up. He nudged the harpoon gun away with his boot. It skidded across the floor and knocked to a stop against a broken crate.
“Now, Ina,” he said quickly. “Let’s not get carried away. You know how you can get.”
Ina narrowed her eyes and held her aim.
Archie reached Malachi and hauled him back, dragging him against his chest for a beat longer than necessary. Malachi was shaking. The fabric of his hoodie was damp under Archie’s fists. Archie breathed him in—soap, fear, and salt—and grounded himself before the tremor in his hands betrayed him.
The air in the boathouse felt thicker now. Archie swallowed, throat burning.
“You do realise they’re swarming us?” Murdock’s gaze kept darting, never settling. “They know this place better than I do. And there are old weapons in here—”
A sharp whistle sliced through the air. Archie’s head snapped up.
The impact came a heartbeat later—the sick, unmistakable sound of metal finding flesh. Murdock cried out as the harpoon tore past his shoulder and drove him sideways. He hit the stone floor hard, the breath knocked clean out of him.
Ina fired without thought. Her bolt crossed the space in a blink, burying itself square between a Selkie’s eyes as it lunged from the dark. The body dropped where it stood.
“Stay there,” Archie pointed to the spot where Malachi stood. He didn’t look at him, not trusting his voice if he did, and dropped to his knees beside Murdock.
“Bob?” His hands were already pressing into the wound. Blood spilled hot and fast, slicking his fingers. “You’ll live, but we need to get you to Latharna General.”
Murdock sucked in a ragged breath and shoved weakly at Archie’s hands. “I’ve had worse.” He clamped his palm over the wound, teeth bared as pain cut through him. His eyes slid past Archie’s shoulder. “I tried to convince her to leave,” he rasped. “I swear I did. But she wouldn’t listen.”
Archie froze, like every muscle had been pulled tight at once. “Who?” His voice thick with fear.
“She’s coming.” Murdock swallowed. Whatever fight he had left drained from his face, leaving only fear behind.
Archie straightened slowly, spine firm, shoulders squaring. The air was colder now. He turned, scanning the broken walls and water beyond them, no longer hunting—but being hunted.
“She?”