But I don’t stop. Because I’m a Valkyrie choosing who lives or dies over a loom of blood. I’m a vengeful ghost that lives under the sea. I’m a goddess of death that collects spirits in a net so wide it will never be full.

‘You told,’ I whisper against his ear, the sodden mess of his hair. ‘You were never supposed to tell.’

His struggles grow weaker. I can feel his ragged breath against my skin. Slower, slower. His eyes are like black shining marbles.

‘It’s all right.’ I stroke his head. ‘It’s all right.’

Because I love him too. I’ve dreamed of watching him sleep. Always inside a nightmare of waves and endless sea. Where no one can see him. Or save him. And I’ve dreamed of watching that white-bright light sweep around us as I pick up a pillow, put it over his face, and press down hard.

We sacrifice so that we are not sacrificed.

I choose to sacrifice Andrew. And all of his nightmares. So that I can finally just be Robert.

CHAPTER 33

‘I’m sure.’ I try to breathe, to sound like I mean it. ‘Who murdered Robert?’

‘I saw you with Charlie,’ Kenny says, nodding towards the rain-lashed window. ‘Down there on the beach. You think he’s your friend?’ His smile gets wider. ‘Charlie just has a dose of what I have. And I don’t think guilt is going to save you, Maggie. If you keep poking around inside old wounds, I don’t think he’s going to save you.’

‘Why are you trying to scare me? Why won’t you just tell me the truth?’

That smile disappears. ‘Because a storm is coming. You think it’s already here. But it isn’t. Not yet.’

‘Ken – Sonny—’

‘The Norse name for this island is Great Protector, and that’s what it does all right. This island protects its own. Always has.’ His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘That’s why you need to be scared.’

‘Tell me why, then. If you won’t tell me who.’ I push myself away from the door and walk towards him. ‘Why was Robert killed?’

He throws up his arms. Gives me a frighteningly ordinary look of exasperation out of eyes that are still black. ‘Because he killed Lorne, of course.’

‘Why?’

He answers me with only a grim, thin-lipped smile.

‘Who killed Robert? Just tell me. Please.’ But I’m already backing towards the door again, even before he sidesteps to the table and picks up his shotgun. This time, his laughter sounds like the sea.

‘I think you should run, wee Maggie MacKay.’

I flail behind me for the door handle, too terrified to turn my back on him for even a second. I shake as I wrench it back and forth until finally the door flies open out of my grasp and the wind and rain rush in.

But I get no more than ten feet from the bothy before I stop, turn round. Kenny is standing inside the doorway’s bright rectangle, surrounded by nothing but darkness.