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It took weeks to sort everything out. Sam recovered physically, his dyslexia stopped being an unholy nightmare and returned to something manageable again and his headaches lessened considerably. But no matter how often Adonis healed his head, the memories didn’t come back, which left Sam wondering how long that ghoul had been feasting on them all. When did it get in the boat? When did it move to the house?

“Ready?” Eric asked.

Sam retreated from his thoughts with a nod. He was docked in his usual spot, the boat as clean as he could possibly get it, and his dad was meandering his way down the walkway, stopping to talk to everyone as he went. The local fishermen had delayed them an hour now, eager to talk to Oisín, who they hadn’t seen in years.

The crowd hadn’t dissipated at all, but Ivan was urging Oisín along, his voice calling out. “We’re going to be late, sorry, guys!”

His dad went easily with Ivan’s urging. He wore oilskins and boots, the same size that fitted Sam fitted him now that he was older and had lost much of the weight of his middle age. His hair was grey, occasional strands of red mixed in, and his face was covered in old sunspots and laugh lines, evidence that though Sam didn’t recall it happening recently, his dad was a man who used to laugh often.

Sam forced himself not to think dark thoughts and smiled as his dad reached them. “I’m ready to go,” he said.

Oisín peered at the boat, staring for a long time at the painted hull. It was chipped now. Wearing away at the waterline, and despite the fact that Roan cleaned the hull every day – Sam had caught him doing it several times – it was beginning to fade. That was fine, though. Sam knew it would fade. He had always planned on doing a new mural when it did.

Sam stepped on board and then offered out his hand to Oisín. “Steady,” he cautioned.

Oisín accepted the help. Eric helped Ivan, and by the time they were all onboard, Oisín was stepping out of the cabin, asking where the other life jackets were. There were only two. Oisín point-blank refused to let them disembark, and Sam trotted down the dock and asked to borrow two from his neighbour, who laughed about Oisín still being a stickler for the rules.

Oisín didn’t say much of anything to either Eric or Ivan, but he fussed at Sam, tightening the straps on his life jacket and smoothing out his all-weather coat beneath it.

“Where are the pots set?” Oisín asked.

The pots were a subterfuge. An excuse to get his dad out here without him worrying in confusion. “I have it marked out. They’re over in Curlew Bay,” Sam said. “There’s only five set, mind, so we shouldn’t take too long.”

“Curlew?” Oisín frowned. “Not much there worth catching. Ah, but look, don’t mind it. We’ll reset them.”

“Do you want to drive?” Sam asked, since his grasp of the basics seemed intact. Oisín nodded and, without any help, started the engine and got them moving in the right direction. Three figures swam in the bay, and as Fionn waved at them from a distance, the two others dove underwater.

Sam studied the water as they slowed to the first pot, spotting three mermen swimming about underwater. Eric and Ivan stood to one side, and Sam stayed on the opposite to keep the boat balanced. Eric pulled in the first pot, teaching Ivan how to do it, and Oisín emerged from the cabin to watch.

The pot came out of the water.

“Uh…” Eric said.

“That’s good, right?” Ivan asked.

“The migration patterns have changed,” Oisín said thoughtfully.

Sam peered around Ivan’s back to see, and a bark of laughter erupted from him. It was packed . Jammed full of the biggest lobsters Sam had ever seen. He leaned over the railing and saw Roan right beneath the waterline. Sam grinned at him.

Bee and Dew obviously joined in on the fun because on the fifth and final pot there were all sorts of fish and shells forced into the pot, and Sam saw Roan chasing them away. When Ivan tactfully asked for a lesson from Oisín about inspecting the lobsters, Sam took over in the cabin and pointed them in the direction of The Tear.

They had debated the issue, but lacking a house and not wanting to overstay the welcome at his aunt’s place, Sam came to a decision. The flat wasn’t big enough for all of them. The house was gone. Even if they poured money into rebuilding, Sam had no desire to ever live on that plot ever again. He’d rather plant trees and leave it to the robins. Ivan offered his place in the city, but even as he said it, Sam reckoned he knew that wasn’t an option. Sam needed the ocean, and he wasn’t letting Oisín go where he couldn’t mind him.

That left Roan. Roan and his wonderful home that Sam knew his dad would adore. And he knew that it would be safe there. For Oisín. For himself. Convincing Eric wasn’t hard. Sam just told him it was what he wanted and Eric caved. Eric’s willingness to fold, when Sam simply asked, was a recurring pattern. The only resistance he ever encountered was when Ivan happened to be within earshot and noticed Sam’s one-sided victories and had something to say about it.

For that particular conversation, Sam simply waited until Ivan was gone to the shop. Eric told Ivan about it once he was back, and Sam was subjected to an absolute killer look from Ivan and an, “Oh, you both decided, did you?”

But there hadn’t been any real acid in his voice. Sam thought he was just annoyed about being left out of the decision, not annoyed because he disagreed with it.

When they got to a certain point, Sam nodded to Ivan. Ivan turned to Oisín and said his ankle was killing him and would Oisín mind wrapping it for him? And would Oisín explain the first aid equipment you need to have on a ship? And a dozen other things that kept Oisín’s attention inside the cabin until they safely arrived at Vi’s nest.

Sam had talked with Vi several times over the past few weeks. He’d looked for hints that she didn’t want this. That Roan had thrown his weight around and she didn’t know how to object, but despite all his prodding, he’d never found any resistance. She seemed eager to host Oisín and had shown him again the rooms that were prepared, the gardens, and then she’d shown him the aviary they were constructing for him. Judging from the frame, Vi intended for the aviary to be bigger than Sam’s entire house.

He lined up with the pier, and Oisín looked out.

Roan stood, dressed and waiting. His cherubic curls were damp, weighted down to cover his forehead and the tips of his ears. Vi and the three nurses that Roan had hired waited with him. Sam muttered a curse. He was pretty sure he’d told them not to have the nurses out when they first arrived. Hadn’t he? Maybe he’d just thought it. At the very least, they could have left the nurse with the huge wings inside…

Oisín caught sight of them and stared in wonder at their hosts.

“Dad, this is my boyfriend’s place. Remember I told you about it? He has rooms set up for us since we can’t go home anymore,” Sam spoke gently. He didn’t know if his dad’s dementia was caused by the ghoul or not, or if, like with Sam’s dyslexia, its presence had worsened an already pre-existing condition. Oisín hadn’t seemed too confused the past few weeks, but Sam was also afraid to trigger an episode of fear in him.

“He’s like a thrush,” his dad said, examining the wings.

Sam gnawed at the inside of his cheek. Okay, he thought. I’d better just go for it . “Roan said that his species are called Avians. You get all sorts of wings, depending on the family line. That’s Yus, and he works for the household. He’s going to help you get settled in.”

Eric lined them up with the dock, and Ivan tossed a rope. It was Yus who stepped forward to catch it and tie them off. Oisín waited until they were tied and Sam had climbed onto the pier before following, letting Sam guide him into the firm ground of the pier. He had eyes for nothing else but Yus’s wings.

And Yus, aware that he was being inspected, shook them out to full size – huge, bulky things – which, with the feathers fluffed out, seemed even bigger. A noise of delight rose in Oisín’s throat, and a shiver of hope wormed its way through Sam.

His dad turned, eyes fixing on Sam as he raised an eyebrow. “Sam,” he said, coherency and comprehension in his eyes. “Where’s this you’ve brought me?”

“I told you,” Sam said, mouth softening into a smile. “My boyfriend’s place. Let’s have a look around. Vi has a huge garden inside with birds you’ve never even heard of before.”

His dad looked past Sam to the villa sitting against the coastline, and then his gaze travelled sideways toward the settlement in the distance. There was no blooming panic, like Sam had learned to expect when he tried bringing his dad out of the house. Thoughts churned behind his eyes, and the crowd on the dock waited patiently.

“I think you should introduce everyone first?” his dad finally suggested, turning to the group. He nodded to Roan. “I remember your boyfriend.”

Roan inclined his head toward Oisín and stepped forward to Sam’s side. He introduced the nurses first and Vi last, who sprang into a description of the garden and the spread of food she had prepared for them all. It was with a relaxed shrug that Oisín agreed they should sit down and talk, and why not do so over a nice meal?

Sam relaxed further as, without even glancing at Sam for support, Oisín fell into step with Vi, heading toward the building. And Sam knew with blessed certainty that it would be okay here. He reached sideways, catching Roan’s hand in his, and squeezed it tightly. “Thank you for doing this,” he said.

Roan returned the squeeze and more, leaning in to nuzzle his cheek. His skin was warm against Sam’s, his golden hair ticklish on his temple. “He will be well cared for,” he assured Sam.