“Think of it as an adventure in personal hygiene?” Kaia asked.
“I hate all of you.”
“No, you don’t,” I said, giving Graham a censorious look.
“No,” he agreed, his expression softening as he looked at me. “I don’t.”
“What we need are more answers,” Hilda said. “This is an all-hands-on-deck research situation.”
“I agree. I think—” I hesitated, trying to articulate the feeling that had been nagging at me for days. “I think I need to understandwhyIsobel killed the original Beithir. The curse came from that act, but no one knows why she did it. Not even Quilliam.”
“Um, who is Quilliam?” Matthew raised a hand.
“Och! I have a familiar. He’s a book wyrm. A wee dragon,” I exclaimed, wishing I’d been able to bring him to the pub with me. “He kind of looks like a mini Beithir.”
“Um, say what now?” Matthew leaned forward, his eyes glinting behind his glasses. “I one hundred percent need to meet this gentleman.”
“You do. I’ll bring him with me when we hit the archives,” I said.
“Perfect. And put me down for research. That’s entirely my wheelhouse,” Matthew said. He was a professor and loved nothing more than digging through stacks of historybooks. “We’re looking to find your ancestor’s motivation for killing a giant water serpent.”
“You think her motivation matters?” Sophie asked.
“I mean, maybe she was just scared?” Ramsay mused.
“You think her ancestor just walked into the loch and sliced the head off a dragon because she was scared?” Graham asked.
“I mean, I would.” Ramsay shrugged, and despite myself, I grinned.
“I think it might be the key to everything. If I can understand why she did what she did, maybe I can figure out how to undo it,” I said.
“Then we research,” Sophie said decisively. “The archives, the castle records, everything. If there’s an answer, it’s probably buried somewhere in the documentation. So, who is Team Research?”
Half the group raised their hands.
“And the rest of us?” Finn gestured to the others. “What do the lads do besides babysit Graham?”
“Graham Watch is not babysitting,” Lachlan said automatically.
“It’s absolutely babysitting.”
Graham could not glower more if he tried.
“It’s security duty.”
“You’re literally going to follow me around and make sure I don’t fall in water. That’s babysitting.”
“Fine. It’s babysitting. What do we do besides babysit?”
Sophie considered. “Maybe talk to people in the village, especially the older residents. Someone might remember stories about the Wrights. Folk memory can be surprisingly accurate.”
By the time we’d finished planning, it was late. My wine glass was empty and my head was spinning, partly from the alcohol, partly from the sheer heaviness of what we’d discussed.
But underneath the exhaustion, I was actually feeling almost … lit up? Like I had a reason to be optimistic for once?
“You okay?” Graham murmured, appearing at my elbow as the others began gathering their things.
“I think so. It’s a lot to process.”
