Chapter 3

Cecilia peered ahead, hoping to catch some glimpse of the island that would be her home for the next year. But there was a thick, low-hanging fog coming up over the sea, making Cecilia’s destination invisible.

Still, it was there, she reminded herself. Somewhere in the distance was the tiny island of Haar. And on it was Bioluminescent Dinoflagellate High. Its secrets would be hers before her parents could say “I told you so.”

Cecilia fingered the notebook in her pocket as she let her gaze wander across the ferry. Haar wasn’t a particularly popular destination, and only a few people sat in the seats around her.

Several giggling girls were near the front of the ferry, already dressed in Bioluminescent Dinoflagellate High’s blue and white uniform. “Lucy! You didn’t!” one of them squealed. “Tobey’s going to kill you this year!”

One of the other girls answered, her words barely intelligible through her laughter. “Oh, she did. She walked up and said it right to his face. Then she dropped the ball on the ground and walked away.”

Cecilia sighed and averted her eyes from the group. On her very long List of Hated Things, squealing girls were near the top. Probably somewhere between chemistry experiments and shark attacks. She had imagined that on an island as mysterious as Haar, she would be able to escape them. But no luck there, it seemed.

On the other side of the ferry, a pair of boys stood at the railing. They took turns spitting into the ocean, leaning dangerously far out over the water until their mother yanked them back.

A freckled boy sat near them, pulling rocks out of a bag one by one and setting them in his lap. “Twenty-two. Twenty-three. Twenty-four,” he muttered under his breath, with a trace of a British accent. “Where in the Oort Cloud could my iron pyrite have gone?”

Cecilia grimaced again. Scientific words were just as prominent on her List as giggling girls.

She scanned the boat once more with curiosity. To her surprise, her eyes fell on one person whom she hadn’t spotted before.

The young Asian man sat alone in his own corner of the ferry. Against the blue of the sky and the sea, his purple eyes stood out brilliantly.

Cecilia’s heart stopped for a moment.

She blinked once, then again, wondering if it was just a trick of the light. She knew that the sun on the sea could cause strange mirages sometimes. The blue-green of the water reflected onto everything, sometimes making colours look different. But there was no doubt about it. The man’s eyes were as purple as they got.

He was muttering under his breath, flapping a newspaper in one hand as though fanning himself, although Connecticut was windy and cool in September. He was wearing a green checkered skirt—a kilt, Cecilia realized.

She set Adobo’s carrier down on the seat next to her. The kitten mewed, glaring at her with his wide green eyes.

But Cecilia ignored Adobo’s pleas to be petted again. She had known that Haar was paranormal—it was the reason she’d wanted to go there in the first place—but she hadn’t expected something so strange so early. And somehow, this seemed bigger than the things she’d read about or even imagined.

There was something more ominous about such a coincidence. She had only seen two other pairs of purple eyes—her mama’s, and her own.

Cecilia inhaled slowly. This was the time for action, not fear. So she pulled her small reporter notebook, the navy blue one with a spiral binding along the top, out of her pocket.

It was time to get some answers.

The boat’s deck swayed under her feet as Cecilia stood up, but she kept her balance. Growing up on the shores of Connecticut had given her plenty of experience with boats, if nothing else.

As she approached, the man finally turned to look at her. His purple eyes were even more striking up close: paler than Cecilia’s and her mama’s, like sun-touched storm clouds. His voice was the low rumble of thunder. “Can I help you, miss?”

Cecilia bit her lip, unsure of how to begin. Walking on boats was one thing; starting conversations was a whole other matter, and one she had much less experience with. “I’m Cecilia,” she said finally. “Cecilia Lewis.” Introducing herself seemed like a good place to begin.

The man gave her outstretched hand one firm shake. “Pleasure to meet you, Cecilia Lewis.”

Cecilia scrutinized him, looking for any family resemblance. He was clearly Asian—but not Filipino, like her mama was. Maybe Chinese. If they were related, Cecilia decided, it could only be distantly.

The man waved at the twisting fog, which had deepened around them even as they spoke. “The fog’s been getting worse these days, hasn’t it?” he said softly. “It never stretched this far a few years ago. But I suppose times are changing.”

He hoisted himself up onto the metal railing that protected passengers from falling off the ferry. He swung his legs over, his sandals almost skimming the water. “Speaking of changing times, you’re very bold, aren’t you? Folk should really be more careful. Too dangerous to be approaching strangers.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cecilia said. The fog was closing in, turning the people around her into mere silhouettes. The island of Haar, looming ahead of them, was a vague shadow of stony outcroppings. Only the man stayed in sharp focus in front of her, as if the rising sea mist refused to touch him. “I just wanted to know if we might be related. Since, you know, the eyes…”

She gestured to her own irises, but his frown deepened. “Listen, I wish you the best of luck and all. But you’re obviously prying into things that it would be best to avoid. Curiosity killed the catfish, as they say.” He smirked at his own joke. “Just keep your nose in your own business, and you’ll be fine. May the firefish give you strength, Cecilia.”

His purple eyes shone like beacons against the white curtain of fog closing in around them. He smoothed his kilt, and winked at her.

Then he jumped off the boat.

Cecilia held in a scream, her eyes searching the water. She was certain that he hadn’t fallen—the way he’d slipped into the ocean felt deliberate. But Haar was still far off, and Connecticut’s shoreline was out of sight behind them. There was no land near enough to swim to.

Unless…

The fog was thick, and the water was murky, too murky to tell what was going on beneath. The last few bubbles and ripples faded, and nothing surfaced.

And maybe it was Cecilia’s imagination, but she thought she saw the fluke of a tail catch the light somewhere in the water’s depths. She knew there were dolphins in this area, and some big fish, too. But her mama’s stories echoed in her head.

She walked back to her seat in the back of the boat, fighting through the cloaking fog. She knew that she was jumping to conclusions—there was no reason for the man to be anything other than what he claimed to be.

Then again, Haar was known for mysterious creatures.

She sat down and gave one last glance out at the water. Still no sign of him. Just the quiet wash of waves against the boat’s hull. The girls were still giggling, the boys were still spitting. No one seemed to have noticed what had just occurred. And obviously no one’s minds were spinning like Cecilia’s was.

Adobo mewed again, putting his head up to the bars so Cecilia could scratch him behind the ears. Then she took a sip from her water bottle, pulled out her notebook, and began to write.

She noted down every detail she could remember about the man with the purple eyes. She described Haar, too, as it became clearer and clearer through the fog. Before she knew it, the ferry had lurched to a stop once more, and the island stood in front of her.

Gathering her things, Cecilia stood up and followed the other passengers off the boat. The ground, like that on the mainland, was mostly pebbles, interspersed with sand. She shifted her footing in the gravel, getting used to the steadiness of land after the rocking of the ferry.

It was too late to turn back now.

The ferry had already rumbled into the mist again, back towards the mainland. Ahead of her, Cecilia could make out a huge stone building. BiDi High. It blended in with the rocky cliffs perfectly, as if it had grown straight out of them.

The fog was thicker than ever, swirling around Cecilia, obscuring the rest of the world. The only thing that reminded her she wasn’t alone was the occasional shriek of laughter from one of the ferry girls. The giggles sounded less annoying and more eerie now, echoing off of Haar’s rocky cliffs.

Cecilia took a cautious step forward, then another. She thought she saw a flicker of movement to her left, but when she turned, it was only the fog, twisting into strange shapes.

Goosebumps ran down Cecilia’s arms. “Just my imagination,” she muttered aloud, adjusting her hold on Adobo’s carrier. It made her less scared to hear her own voice break the silence.

The rusty iron gates in front of her said “Bioluminescent Dinoflagellate High” in big capital letters. She stepped through them, into a large courtyard framed by walls on three sides. A dilapidated mermaid—or perhaps finfolk—fountain occupied the center of the courtyard. The fog was too thick to see much else.

Suddenly, someone tapped her on the shoulder. Cecilia spun around, tightening her grip on her water bottle.

“Did you see that guy jump off the boat?”

It was the boy who had been counting rocks on the ferry. Cecilia released the breath she had been holding, and tried to make it look like she hadn’t been about to hit him with her water bottle.

“Well? Did you?” The boy was about her age, with a few freckles scattered across his face. He was abnormally average to look at—muddy hazel eyes, short brown hair, and a slightly crooked smile. He spoke with a hint of a British accent. “He was right next to you—you must have seen him. Unless I was hallucinating, which is always a possibility. I mean, I could be hallucinating right now. Maybe I’m just talking to the air. That would be interesting, but it would probably end up being inconvenient. People might think I was strange, you know? Talking when no one’s there. I mean, I do that all the time, but still—”

“I don’t think I’m a hallucination,” Cecilia interrupted, raising an eyebrow and slipping her water bottle into the pocket of her backpack. “And yeah, I saw him. He was talking to me before he jumped off.” She decided not to mention finfolk—she had made that mistake enough times on the mainland. People didn’t believe in old Scottish legends. Best to pretend that she felt the same way.

“Okay, good, so I wasn’t hallucinating,” the boy continued. “Probably for the best. Was there anything odd about him? Besides his eyes, I mean? Speaking of which, nice eyes. Are you two related? ‘Cause I have never seen anyone else with purple eyes. And now there’s two of you! Do you know why he jumped off the boat?”

Cecilia blinked at the barrage of questions, unsure which of them to answer. “I don’t think we’re related,” she said finally. “At least, I don’t know him.”

“I see.” The boy rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “And my iron pyrite’s missing, too. Which can mean only one thing: this guy was a thief.”

“A thief?” Cecilia set down Adobo’s carrier and fumbled in her pocket for her notebook and pencil. Here was the information she had been waiting for. And any information she could get was worthwhile, even if it meant trying to navigate a conversation with this extremely talkative boy. “Can you explain to me everything you know about him?” she asked. “The guy who jumped off the boat, I mean.”

“Sure.” He grinned when he saw her notebook. “Oh, cool, are you a reporter? Or a spy? Are you going to use this information to overthrow the government? ‘Cause I don’t mind. You can tell me. And I’m super good at keeping secrets. Well, not really. Never mind, forget I said anything. That’s off the record. Can I start by introducing myself? I’ve always wanted to introduce myself to a reporter.”

Cecilia blinked. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. “Um, sure. Go ahead—”

“Allow me to introduce myself,” he interrupted with a smile. “The name’s Fergus Davidson. You can call me Ferg, if you want. But most people don’t. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss…”

“Lewis. Cecilia Lewis.”

“Miss Lewis. Now, about this purple-eyed man. Basically, I was on the ferry, and he was sitting near me. He was just staring out at the water, barely moving. Like a statue. Or a fly—well, a dead one, obviously. Meanwhile, I took out my rock collection to make sure that nothing was missing, since I had dropped the bag on the way onto the boat. I checked five times, and there was no doubt about it: my iron pyrite was missing.”

“I see.” Cecilia wondered if Fergus might be mildly crazy. “And did you check to see if this…iron had fallen out onto the boat somewhere?”

“Nope,” Fergus said. “Because it was obvious that this man had stolen it! He had one hand in his pocket, and he was looking at me sideways, like this.” He moved to stand beside Cecilia, and slowly turned his head to look at her, his eyes narrowed. Then he jumped back to where he’d been standing before. “I was going to go over and accuse him. But then you started talking to him, and then he jumped off the boat. To make a quick getaway, you know. He could tell I was on to him.”

Cecilia took a deep breath. “So you’re saying that the only things you really know about him are that he sat near you, talked to me, and then jumped off the boat?”

Fergus thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yep. But trust me, he’s a thief. And not a very smart one, either—any decent robber would be able to tell the difference between iron pyrite and real gold.”

“Well, sorry you lost your rock,” Cecilia said. “I hope it shows up.”

Fergus kept talking before she could escape the conversation. “Iron pyrite isn’t actually a rock. It’s a metal. I mean, it’s kind of obvious, since it has ‘iron’ in the name. I only have it in my rock collection because I don’t have a metal collection yet. It’s fool’s gold. Which is probably why he stole it.”

“Right. Of course.” Cecilia nodded. She had no idea what the string of words that had just come out of Fergus’s mouth meant. She only knew that he was being no help at all. “Well, I’d better go find my dorm room and all that,” she said quickly. “See you around, Fergus.” She tucked her notebook and pencil back into her pocket and picked up Adobo’s carrier.

“Yeah, my mom is probably looking for me,” said Fergus as she turned away. “See you at school, Sea! Oh, can I call you Sea? Cecilia just takes so long to say….”

His words faded as he left in the opposite direction, back towards the ferry. Cecilia breathed a sigh of relief as quiet reigned once more in the courtyard. Talking was not her strong suit, and it was nice to be alone with her thoughts again.

But she also shivered a little as she looked back at Fergus’s retreating form, disappearing into the fog. Then she glanced back up at the huge stone building in front of her. And she couldn’t help wishing that someone, anyone, even Fergus, were there to guide her through it.