Torrents (DROPLETS Trilogy Book 3) (26 page)

     My arms began to shake when we reached the cabin and I tried not to look up at the forlorn windows as we padded up the stairs. I pushed the door open with my foot and hurried to the kitchen table, stubbing my toe on a chair. Cursing on one foot, I dropped the knives on the table with a colossal clang as some of the daggers slid off the wood surface, colliding with the floor.

     “That was unnecessary,” Zale said from behind me. He glided into the room and gently placed his weapons on the table. I envied his grace, but there was a hint of amusement playing around his lips.

     “Maybe,” I said, stretching my tired muscles.

     As he lay down each knife and weapon, I noted the stash we had piled up and stood astonished at the sight. It was both terrifying and comforting at the same time.

     “We probably won’t use them,” he said, sliding a leather rope off his shoulder. It took me a second to realize it was a whip. Simply looking at it made the memories of Bolrock’s attack come back; I shivered.

     He turned and went to look out one of the windows. “I think we’ll be safe here for the time being. I’ll take first watch, you can rest.”

     I nodded, but realized he couldn’t see me. The cabin surrounded us and I felt pressed in by the memories of this place. It was all so familiar to me, every piece of furniture, every nick in the wood, cried out to remind me of what had once been. It was all the same, and yet, so very different.

     Something gripped at my stomach and when he turned back to me, I raised my eyes to his. For a moment we stared at one another and I took in his disheveled appearance. The ocean water had cleaned his wounds from the battle, but the dark circles beneath his eyes betrayed his exhaustion.

     “How about you sleep first,” I said, not really asking. He shook his head, but when I reached him, he blinked slowly. “I know you’re tired.”

     “I’ve had longer days,” he said. His breath caught when I slid my arms around him to place my head against his chest. His shirt was still a little damp from our trip to the island. I would have to ask Tunder to give him a black shirt of the Lathmorian soldier uniform. If he would wear it, he wouldn’t have to wait so long for the fabric to dry. My clothes were already warm against my skin.

     “Will you rest?” I asked, lifting my head to look up at him, while keeping my arms securely wrapped around his torso.

     “Maybe,” he said, “but I won’t be able to relax.”

     “Yes you will,” I said and pulled away, grabbing his hand to drag him across the room and up the stairs into his old bedroom.

     As much as I knew the smell was coming, I tried not to let it bother me as the familiar aroma of chipped wood filled my nostrils. He followed me up the stairs without complaint and when I pushed him down to sit on the creaking mattress, his shoulders relaxed. Standing before him, I traced the new cuts with my fingers. They were already scabbing over and he didn’t flinch when I brushed my fingers over them. He merely stared at me as though each movement enchanted him. I smiled to myself and bit my lip.

     Placing both hands on the side of his face, I turned his chin upward and kissed him fully on the mouth. His lips parted for only a moment and he sighed heavily when I pulled back. Taking my advantage, I pushed him down onto the mattress, his head resting on the pillow. I sat on the edge of the bed and ran my fingers through his hair.

     With one more brush of my lips, I whispered to him, “Sleep now.”

     He did as he was bid, and when his eyes closed I felt the small weight in my stomach release. At least for now, we could keep the past at bay.

     Looking around the room, my eyes alighted on the small window on the opposite wall. It would be my only view of the outside. Moving toward it, I looked into the glass, trying to ignore the slightly startled expression of the girl staring back at me. She seemed paler than normal and her eyes stood out from the rest of her face, the sea-green pools shining with an ethereal glow. She was foreign to me, more serious than I ever remembered, and the memory of her musical voice rose in my mind.

     The glass fogged from my breaths. My new abilities of sight and sound made me more secure in our surroundings. If I strained, I could hear the ocean waves crashing on the shore and I knew if I stepped outside, the steady roar from the waterfall would be audible.

     Everything looked new, as though I had never really seen the island before. I hadn’t noticed the difference right away, as though my body was slowly changing. I could see the veins in the leaves of all the trees surrounding us, the individual blades of grass in the clearing below. Each sight was interesting and at the same time there was a yearning within me, not to see any of it at all.

      A heavy exhale passed through Zale’s parted lips and I turned to look at him again. Even in the cloudy night my eyesight was growing stronger. I could trace the fine lines of his face, the relaxed creases of his brow, and the curved indent along the right side of his mouth where he sometimes smiled. His face was peaceful, his body having settled into the deep rhythms of much-needed sleep. Part of me was jealous of the level of calm he was able to achieve.

     Sitting down in the rocking chair next to the bed, I watched his chest rise and fall, the motion of the chair moving into the same rhythm. My fingers tightened and as I focused on them, closing my eyes and demanding them to appear; the blades shot forth from my skin.

     In some way it felt the same as the first time I had seen my fins, or even when I had witnessed the shimmer of the lavender on my hip. The blades were both captivating and dangerous at the same time. There was something about them which drew me in, making me want to touch them, and still I knew their power was dangerous. I remembered the first time I had seen them up close, when Morven had cut off a piece of his own flesh and placed it within me. Then there was the second time, when Kryssa had shown me what mermaid blades looked like in the dim light of her bedroom during my first visit to Lathmor. Since then I had seen various blades hundreds of times, but never so close.

     Maybe it was my growing eyesight, or I had never really noticed before, but I had always thought the blades were a sort of miraculous metal the merfolk were able to produce. Now I saw I was completely wrong.

     They shimmered, flashing like metal, but they were made of scales; the same scales my fins were made of. The packed scales clung to one another to form the blades, their tightly knit-structure forming a dangerously sharp bond.

     Retracting the blades on my right hand, I reached out to touch the tip of the blade on my left thumb. Blood bubbled on the tip almost instantly and I inhaled sharply, retracting the rest of the blades.

     Sucking on my newly wounded finger, I continued to rock back and forth in the chair. It thumped every now and again over the slats between the wood planks.

     Somehow in the space of a couple of hours I had changed. Maybe I had felt it happening for a long time now, or maybe this was my body’s way of telling me I was different, but I was no longer human. A piece of my heart wanted to cry.

     Last year at this time I had been asleep, knowing when I woke, my father would have a birthday rose waiting on my bedside table. He had given me one for every single birthday I had been alive, and the loss of not having one this year was something I would have to live with.

     It was only a simple rose, but it was mine, and as I rocked back and forth I held the seventeen he had given me, dear to my heart, wishing I was somehow home to hold onto the eighteenth.

_______________

As soon as I saw the beach I knew what was going to happen. I tried to run away from the crashing waves, even as the hammering rain pounded against my bare shoulders. I pushed against the slippery sand, desperately trying to gain a foothold as I ran along the icy shore. The water was all around me, coming in on both sides, pouring forth from the darkened sky. Each breath clouded before my mouth and when he called my name, I froze. I knew what I would see if I turned, and yet, I didn’t want to. My body betrayed me, I spun around his gaze meeting mine. He was shirtless, the water rushing over his body in perfect rivers and the coil of fear tightened in the pit of my belly. I swallowed hard, unsure of what to do, or say. He raised his left hand to me, a scar on his forearm and I felt the cut on my hip stir. His palm faced open, beckoning me to him. Again, my feet moved of their own accord and before I could stop it, my hand was grasped within his. He whispered the name again and a shiver ran through me, covering my flesh in goosebumps. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and still I didn’t fight him, even as he pulled me close to his bare chest, speaking my new name over and over again in my ear. I didn’t stop him, not even when he turned me around and looming shadows approached. Then he said one word, a command, crying out for me to do his will and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Gathering his desire in mind, I began to form the tune and opened my mouth, letting the song take wind. Even as a tear slipped down my cheek, he held on to me. His lips pressed against my neck, and I watched those before us fall beneath my voice. I could do nothing to stop it. Wansa’s blank eyes were staring up at me, Gendra beside her. Only when the last body fell, did he lift his head from my neck to whisper the name once more…Marina…

     I woke with a shuddering gasp and sat up startled. My chest was heaving as I tried to throw the images of the dream from my mind, even as my limbs trembled with fear. Slowly, sanity reigned, and once my heart was back to its normal pace I settled back down on the soft mattress.

     Rolling onto my side, I glimpsed the gray sky blotted with pudgy clouds, weighed down with heavy burdens. They rumbled past one another and still the sky was lighter than when I had fallen asleep.

     Sometime in the middle of the night, Zale had risen from the bed to give me a chance to rest. We hadn’t spoken a word, though he had remained in the room until I was fully asleep. In some way, he was aware of how difficult it was for me to drift into unconsciousness, especially after the happenings on Lathmor. My sleep had been anything but restful in the coolness of the early morn, and though I knew I would have to get up, a part of me wanted to remain in sinful comfort for only a moment longer.

     The smell of him, saltiness mixed with a manly musk, remained on the pillow where my head lay. I inhaled deeply, letting a smile warm over my face even as I felt foolish by the action. Curling into a ball for only a moment longer, I reveled in the comfort surrounding me and let out a huff.

     The covers fell off with a shocking coolness. I stood and wrapped my arms around my body in an effort to retain some of the earlier warmth. I moved as though a shadow through the pale morning light, across the room and down the stairs, my eyes searching and finding his silhouette near one of the windows. His back was turned to me, but I knew he heard my approach. I would never move quietly enough to keep my presence unknown to him.

     When I reached his side, he tucked me gently beneath his arm and I inhaled the scent of him once more. This time it was fresher; not the lingering remembrance of a lost presence, but a vibrant closeness.

     “Hey,” I said simply, leaning my head against his broad chest. In a way I felt as though I had upgraded my comfort from the bed upstairs.

     “Bad dream?” he asked quietly, his words more of a statement than a question.

     “Yeah,” I said and forced myself not to recall the nightmare. Days were filled with light, but the night always returned, and with it came the images my mind conjured of a churning shore and unspeakable horror. A shiver ran through my body as I thought of the blood in my dream once more.

     “You didn’t sleep very long,” he noted and I nodded. It had been growing lighter in the sky when he had risen from the bed. I couldn’t have been asleep for more than two hours.

     “That’s the problem with bad dreams,” I said around a yawn and looked up at him.

     A crooked grin lifted one side of his mouth, “Anything I can do to help?” he asked, pulling me a little tighter against his side.

     “You already have,” it was my turn to smile, and I did so with gusto. “Have you seen anything?”

     He shook his head immediately and turned his gaze back out the window. “I think we’re alone,” he said and I couldn’t help the lightness in my heart as some of my worry lifted. I knew it wouldn’t be forever, but I couldn’t let the cloud of fear from my nightmare hang over me all day.

     For a long time we stood together, wrapped in each other’s arms. He rubbed my shoulder gently and as the pattern he traced along my skin grew obvious, I found my eyes closing once more. Maybe I would be able to sleep better if he was by my side.

     Somehow, as the sky grew lighter and the clouds continued to roll over one another, we remained still. A perfect picture, transfixed. The stirrings of something gathered within me and I felt my heart spread open beneath my chest. Maybe it was joy, maybe it was peace, but more than anything I knew it had to do with a feeling of coming home. I was comfortable here with him, knowing he accepted me for what I was and his knowledge of my love for him was enough.

     “So this was mine?” he asked, his voice suddenly rumbling in his chest. I turned my chin to look up at him. His gaze was not on the outside, but instead roving over the walls and wooden frames. I pushed back, if only slightly and he turned to look toward the fireplace.