But these lads were closer to being men than that. Nick shook his head. “No one. Johnnie’s mam said it must be cursed, and no one’s dared go down there since. Especially after Enyon said he heard strange goings-on last week.”

“Whole island’s a bunch of cowards.” Perry jammed the stick he’d been fiddling with into the dirt. “So what if it is his ghost down there? He’d only be haunting the place if he’d been murdered or something. Right, vicar?”

Was that what others thought too? All these ghost stories Tas-gwyn was telling—were they mixing up in the minds of his neighbors with the recent tragedy?

Oliver shook his head. Kept his face and his gaze soft. “No, Perry. I knew Johnnie. He was a good, God-fearing young man. However he died, he’s not haunting the caves—he’s at peace with the Lord.”

Joseph’s foot flashed out, connected with Perry’s shin, and retreated again. “I told you.”

Perry lunged, and a moment later the leaves of the Cornish hedge were shaking as the boys tumbled in a blur back into the yard, Nick somehow joining the melee too. Oliver sighed and considered vaulting over the stone wall to intervene.

Though before he had the chance, Casek Wearne came charging outside. “Grimsby! Grimsby! Hill! On your feet now!”

The tussle continued for half a second more, until the approaching footfalls of the headmaster must have convinced them that he meant business. Then they scrambled to their feet.

Casek stalked along the line of them but did nothing more than give them a scathing look.

Oliver realized a moment too late that the headmaster had set his path toward him. He ought to have walked away the moment the lads tumbled out of the bush, but his hesitation now meant that Casek Wearne was a foot away, sneering at him over the wall. “Stop harassing my students, Tremayne.”

How could the man make him bristle so fully with five little words? His fingers curled into his palm. “Harassing them? Really?”

“This is school property.” Though Wearne drilled a finger into Oliver’s shoulder, which put said finger outside school property. “You’re not welcome here.”

Oliver backed up a step to keep himself from poking back. “Isn’t it tiring, being such a blighter all the time?”

Casek looked as though he would vault the wall at any moment. But awareness of his audience prevailed. He too stepped back. Though he lifted his finger again, pointing it instead of poking. “Be ready to lose tomorrow, Tremayne.”

And this was the example he was setting for his students? Oliver lifted his chin. “Good luck to you too.”

“I don’t need luck. Not as long as your teammates are so scared of a few ghost stories that they don’t sleep anymore.” He pivoted then and shouted something at the children—a warning of only ten minutes left of recess.