Ollie saw himself out, and Mabena went to her room to gather Beth’s clothes. With the shawl wrapped around her hands, she decided it didn’t matter how she felt about it. The only thing in the world that mattered was finding Beth.

7

Blessed sunshine greeted Libby on Friday morning when she rose, bringing a smile to her lips and making her jump from bed and fly to the window. She pushed up the sash, breathing in the scents of salt and green life and a world washed clean by the rain she’d been none too happy with yesterday. It had pounded the island all day, keeping her in when all she really wanted was to be out. After Mrs. Pepper left the other evening, Libby had insisted Mabena sit down with her so they could write up a plan, and most of that plan included tasks that required going about St. Mary’s asking after the missing Beth Tremayne. Not sitting at home twiddling their thumbs.

Though to be sure, they’d put their day to use. They’d gone over every inch of the cottage, finding a few more items that were more likely Beth’s than the Peppers’—books on the islands’ history, mostly, that Mabena had thought were from the Tremayne library. At Libby’s insistence, they’d catalogued them, along with the items they’d already sent to Tresco with Mr. Tremayne. She’d even transcribed all the notes in Treasure Island before he left, including the entire fairy tale—not that it had been finished.

Mabena had sighed at the list-making, but in Libby’s opinion it brought a bit of much-needed order to the situation. They now knew exactly what Beth had deemed not important enough to take with her on her task—or, in the case of Treasure Island, what she’d dropped without realizing it, which was Libby’s suspicion. Perhaps that didn’t tell them what she had taken, but it was more information than her brother had when he came here. She glanced again at her transcription of the fairy tale.

Once upon a time, there was a princess. She lived on an island of rocks and bones, with no one to keep her company aside from the fairies. All her life she’d danced with them to the tunes they played on their magical pipes, the tunes echoed by deep voices from the rock itself. One day, however, the music stopped.