SEA, SWALLOW ME, remus lupin

còig, the black lake beckons

CHAPTER FIVE
the black lake beckons

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  THE OWLERY OVERLOOKS THE VAST countryside, the fields sprouting green in the dregs of summertime as autumn begins to close its maw on the living. Flurries of auburn leaves streak through the tree branches and blossoms in the ground retract into themselves in anticipation of the colder months ahead. Bracken unfurls in the heather-swathed moors, withering to the colour of rust until next year when they'll resurrect, greener than ever. Cove decides that she has to stop focusing on all the plants dying before she gets too sad, because Fallon often says that she gets too attached to nature in the summer. She can't argue with that when her favourite thing about springtime is greeting the first bleary snowdrops like an old friend — she already looks forward to seeing them, despite it being months away.

  A chill surges through the tower, goosebumps dimpling her arms underneath her woolly cardigan. Perilously, she dodges a pile of rodent skeletons left by the owls and trudges over to the glassless window. She stands around tapping her foot for a few seconds until a black dot swoops over the horizon, and within mere minutes Goldie is perched in front of Cove, out of place in the company of so many owls. She offers up her scrawny leg to show off a piece of parchment with water damage curling the edges. The handwriting is almost illegible, ink smudging down the page like someone's mascara caught in a rain shower. Two curt paragraphs have been squashed onto the napkin-sized letter, every other word wonkier than the one before. If she squints her eyes for long enough, it's fairly easy to make out what the sentences say.

  Vee,

Your grandparents send their love. I'm sorry to hear about that rotten teacher, but you have to start being more careful! If you keep running your mouth about things like that, you'll get found out in no time. I'm sure the humans are stupid, but nobody's that thick. The storm has calmed down on our end, and your mother has begun to venture to the water's edge again, though she tends to back away as if the sea burns her before we can get close. It probably does. Poor Mairi.

P.S. Sorry the letter's so short, I accidentally dropped half of my paper in the water. Looking forward to seeing you during the holidays! Tha gaol agam ort.

— Cordelia x

Cove smiles to herself, folding up the parchment neatly. It finds a home in her pocket. She tosses Goldie a fish-flavoured treat, scratching her under the beak before making a getaway down the winding staircase. The sooner she gets out the better — seeing all of Aaron's letters gathering cobwebs in her pigeonhole makes her uncomfortable. Fallen leaves crunch under her boots as she hurries down the steps, dizziness bubbling into her head as the winding staircase twists further down the tower.

Mary and Fallon are stood outside the doors, passing a cigarette between them to warm up. A sight for sore eyes. They're muttering about the cold, still in uniform after being in classes all morning. Their free period every Thursday afternoon has become a saving grace.

"Success?" Mary asks.

"Yes," Cove confirms, waving the letter in front of them. "Hooray!"

Smoke huffs from Fallon's nostrils as if she's a dragon, curling around the beguiling grin that blossoms on her face and fading away into wisps. "You've got to let us meet this mysterious friend of yours one day. She sounds like a rockstar."