Adrift (11 page)

“The weight of the Magic, the Guardianship, it all fell on my shoulders, but I-- I wasn’t enough to hold it.  In my pain and grief… it fell apart.  All that power and the tension of holding Faerie back, it snapped, and it snapped on me.  I couldn’t handle it… I think… I think I went a little mad.

“Next thing I knew, I was home with Maura.”

Devin looked up at me.  His face was tortured, full of pain.

“It was my fault,” he whispered.  “My fault that he died… and my fault that the Gateway opened.  It was only for a few hours, but… It was enough.”

I pressed my hands against my chest, my heart pounding as if it would burst.  Twenty years ago a little boy had lost the father he worshipped… and my father had been saved… by the selkie that slipped through the Gateway while a little boy grieved…

“It’s my fault,” Devin repeated over and over again. 

His fault I was alive.  That I was what I was.  No wonder he wanted so badly to hate me.  I was a daily reminder of his father’s death.  I was a living symbol of failure to him.

“Now,” he said, brokenly.  “Do you understand why I can’t trust myself?”

 
“It’s my fault,” I whispered.  “Oh, Devin.  I wish… I should never have come here.”

“No,” his face cleared.  “No, you don’t understand… You came from this-- you came from my failure…”

I held up my hands.  I didn’t want to hear any more.

He grabbed my hands in his and pulled me towards him, harshly.  He stared into my face.

“You came from my failure…” he repeated.  “And… suddenly, it doesn’t hurt so much.  It… It wasn’t a waste.  Da dying… the Gateway collapsing… everything… It brought you into the world…” His eyes searched mine, hazel and hungry, and wild.

He brought his mouth down on mine and devoured me.  I could do nothing but yield to him as he dug his hands into the back of my hair and poured all his grief and pain and loneliness and doubt… and his new hope and vision of a future into me.  His mouth savaged mine, and I responded, clinging to him, my rock of hope and sanity.

I was consumed with fire, heat sprang up between us as we tangled desperately together.  His fingers pressed into the back of my skull.  I dug my hands into his elbows, pressing myself against him.  I wanted to forget our pain, mine and his, burn it away in a fire of our passion.

He pulled back, suddenly deadly in his formality.

“I--” He stammered.  “I shouldn’t have done that.  I-I’m sorry.”

He turned his back on me and ran.

Chapter Nine

I clung to my pillow.  I had found refuge on my bed, and now I fought to stay anchored there, lost and mired as I was, in a sea of pain and guilt and confusion.  My own pain had brought me here, and now I was making Devin suffer.  I couldn’t bear it.  The load was too much for my poor heart to carry.

I relived and relived that moment with Devin.  I could taste his mouth on mine, his fingers digging into me with desperation. 

I closed my eyes, swept away by the power of the connection we had shared.  Even now I trembled at the memory.  There was no doubt that there was something between us.  Something powerful.  Something I was afraid we would never have the opportunity to explore.  There was too much there-- my selkie blood, my heritage, his history… it was too tangled together.  How could we ever move past all of that to discover what we could be?

It seemed impossible.

Daylight turned to night. 

Night turned to a tempest.

I had never been more terrified in my entire life.  The storm outside the window whipped around the house, howling with the voices of a thousand banshees.  I shivered with the thought—perhaps there were real banshees out there. 

I did not know how to tell anymore what was real and what was not.  The storm seemed to echo this new feeling of despair that filled every fiber of my being.

Without thinking, I pushed the window open and reached my arms out into the rain.  It drenched my hair in seconds, creating rivers that threatened to ruin Maura’s beautiful handmade carpet.  With that in mind, I slid my way through the window and let my feet dangle—dropping the rest of the way to the ground.  I slid in the mud and struggled for purchase, breathing in enough water from the cascading rivulets to leave me coughing and choking when I stood again.

The wind ripped around the house and into me, bringing with it a sudden chill.  I threw my arms out in complete abandon, letting it race through me, setting my blood to thundering.

Wet hair plastered to my face, I made my way to the shore front.  The white caps were beating against the rocky expanse, like the white tossed manes of wild horses.  There was something dark, mysterious, and very frightening about the wild waters.  At the same time, it was exciting, beautiful, and drew me to it, raising my pulse.

“Meg!” Devin’s voice came as an unwelcome intruder.

“Leave me alone,” I hissed at him, barely aware of my unshod feet on the rocks, the waves pounding around me and splashing on my bare legs.

“I’m not going to leave you alone,” He shouted.  He was drenched to the bone, his white shirt plastered against his skin and his fair hair darkened and dripping into his eyes.  He was shivering, walking gingerly on the rocks with his bare feet.

“Why stop me?” I demanded.  “What is left for me here?  You said it yourself, I’m not part of this world.  I’m not part of that world either, so where do I find a place?”

“Just come back,” Devin shouted, near enough to touch me now.  I jerked away from his reaching fingers and turned back to the water.

With a gasp I jerked back.  There, out in the waves, was a seal, riding the storm, staring up at me.  I felt compelled to step back, as if she had physically pushed me out of the water and back onto the shore.

“Why?” I screamed at her.  “Why can’t I?  Why don’t you want me?”

The seal’s eyes were sad as she turned in a flick of flipper and tail and dived under the storm-tossed water.  I shivered, clutching my arms across my chest, sobbing with all of my heart.  Around me, the storm quieted, the sea calmed, and the rain eased to a trickle.  I held both my hands to my heart and let the tears flow freely.

I was vaguely aware of Devin’s arms around me, that he lifted me up and held me close, stumbling back to the house, while I sobbed helplessly, unable to stop.  I gasped for air as he set me in Maura’s chair and added wood to the fireplace until the room was rosy and red with light and heat.

More for lack of oxygen than lack of grief, my sobs quieted to whimpers and finally stopped.  I leaned back, exhausted, unable to shift or move at all.  I was drained of all emotion, of all energy.

Devin stroked back my hair, looking down into my face.  The concern in his eyes nearly set me off again.  I couldn’t take his kindness, not now.

I curled up into a ball and rested my chin on my knees, staring deep into the fire.

Devin didn’t say anything.  He just quietly went to the kitchen and came back, moments later, with some hot herb tea.  He pressed it into my hands and guided it to my lips.  The scalding stream raced through my veins, bringing a similitude of life back to my limbs.

Devin pressed the back of his hand against my cheek, gently brushing away the streaks of tears.  He knelt beside me and pressed his forehead against mine.

I awoke with sunlight streaming through the windows.  I was wrapped in a small ball on Maura’s chair, with Devin wrapped around me.  His head was thrown back, and his mouth was open, emanating a slight snore.  I smiled and stroked back his copper hair.  I snuggled my head into the hollow of his neck.  I felt so safe, warm and wanted.  It felt so right, and so simple.

I knew it couldn’t last, there was too much between us, but I intended to savor this moment of peace and quiet as long as I could.  If only it could always be like this!

Perhaps it would have been possible had I not been a selkie, had he not been the Guardian.  I daydreamed of a reality in which we met over summer vacation.  Perhaps, I went to see him play and fell for his music and that beautiful smile.  I smiled to myself, drowsily.

Devin shifted in his sleep.  His hand rose of its own accord and brushed back a strand of my hair.  I felt him jerk awake.  He stared warily down at me.  I held still, not wanting to be the one to break the moment.

Devin pushed himself back in the chair a little and I sat up, watching him.  Neither one of us spoke.  We just stared at each other.

Devin started to say something, then swallowed his words.  He pressed his palm against my cheek, gently, his thumb stroking my lips.  It was so natural to reach up and accept his kiss.  Unlike our last one, this was quiet, soft, but no less powerful for all that.

Devin pulled back and smiled sadly at me.  I knew the moment was past.  My heart twisted inside of me as he gently disentangled himself from me and disappeared into the kitchen.  I heard him speaking to Maura in a low voice before he returned with a mug of tea and pressed it into my hands.

“I’m glad I came back last night,” he said, quietly.  “I had a feeling that you were in danger.  I--I hate to think what could have happened if I hadn’t come back.  I would have felt so guilty if something had happened to you.”

I nodded, blindly, staring down at my mug, feeling the heat seep through to my fingers.  Somewhere, a voice deep inside of me whispered that things would have been so much simpler for him if I had just disappeared into the sea.

I felt an odd sort of peace, knowing that the issue wasn’t really me, or at least not me alone.

 
“Thank you,” I whispered, “For coming back… for caring.”

His mouth twisted into a smile.  He stood up, resting his hand on my head for an instant.

“I’ve got to go home now.  Are you going to be OK?”

I nodded.

I thought for a second that he might kiss me.  He hesitated, his eyes on mine, but then he just nodded awkwardly and walked away.

Maura must have sensed that I needed space for my thoughts.  She let me be, throughout the day, though she was always nearby, quietly going about her own work.

I moved the chair in from of the loom and sat for a moment, studying the way warp and weft bound together made something new and strong-- one piece from many.  I wondered if that ever worked for real relationships.  Life was so messy.  Nothing was as simple as it felt it should be-- particularly love…

Oh, God, I knew I loved him.

I shied away from the thought.  I had a history of losing everything I loved, of hurting those I loved without intention.  My father’s death was proof of that.  I couldn’t love Devin, and I must never, ever, let him suspect that I did.  It would hurt him more than anything.

The last thing I wanted to do was hurt Devin more than I already had.

I set my hands to the weft, letting my mind concentrate on the workings of the loom, strictly keeping my mind from wandering, from thinking about Devin.  I drowned myself in the process, letting my fingers fly, letting the fibers of the yarn pull through my fingers.  The blanket grew under my tutelage, the pattern becoming clearer and clearer as it grew longer.

Maura looked down on it and ran a finger across the fabric.  The weave was tight and firm, with no inconsistent lumps.  I looked up at her and she smiled softly at me.

“It’s not as hard as one would think,” she told me.

Somehow I knew she was referring not to the weaving but to my thoughts, to the impossible nature of relationships and love.  I wondered that she could read me so easily, but, then again, there was something so other-worldly about her.  I would not have been surprised, really, to see her weave with magic alone… or spin straw into gold.

My hands and back ached, but I wove deep into the night, pouring myself into the fabric.  The rhythm was soothing, the pattern embedded itself into my soul, until my hands practically wove on their own, as I let my head sink onto my chest.  My eyelids grew heavy.  I wove on in a half-stupor.

When the warp ended, I stopped in shock, not knowing what to do with myself.  I stood up, awkwardly looking down at my masterpiece.  It was beautiful, truly, well-wrought and soft, warp and weft combining into a beautiful seamless thing.

I stood, looking down on it.  For some reason, looking down on my completed piece made my heart ache.  It hadn’t solved anything, it had merely stolen away time, filled the hours, so that I wouldn’t have to think.

With my hands now free, thoughts pressed into my mind, as if they had been battering against the walls, just waiting to rush in and overwhelm me.  I ground the heels of my hands into my eyes, but I could not keep back the tide of weary tears.

I was wrong, trying to create a relationship out of my cloth.  I wasn’t weaving together me and Devin, which could never be.  The fabric before me, warp and weft together, were the halves of myself-- the unknown, unfamiliar, selkie self, and the mortal, messy, confused me I was so familiar with.  These two parts of me wove together to create something new, a Meg I didn’t know at all.  Who knew what I would become, as my life wove together to create something new, and entire?