by Kristen Day
“Would you girls like some tea?” she called from below. I could tell Phoebe was trying to decide if she was going to poison us or chop us up for a stew.
“Sure, that’d be great!” Willow called back. She shrugged when Phoebe gave her a harsh look.
“If we all croak, it’s your fault,” she said in a hushed voice.
At the top of the stairs, a very shabby-chic dress shop stretched out before us. However, unlike the trendy décor crafted in mass warehouses, this was the real deal. An antique postmaster’s desk greeted us at the entrance, holding a vintage cash register that probably still worked. Beside the cash register was a modern credit card machine. Which was a plus, since that’s what I’d be using to pay for my dress. An old Singer sewing table covered in fabric, pins, measuring tape, and spools of thread took up one corner. Lace curtains hung from each of the four square windows, and a romantic white chandelier hung from the ceiling with crystals raining down from the eight arms. Large white ornate iron racks stood throughout the room holding an arrangement of different gowns. Each dress was a work of art in its own right; each one intricately sewn together shining with its own individual personality and character.
“Stasia!” Phoebe whispered at me.
“Why are we whispering?” I whispered back.
“I don’t know!” she giggled. She held up a strapless gown made up of layer upon layer of silk cascading down to the floor. The bodice was cream colored with an empire waist, accentuated by a silver band. As the fabric floated to the floor, flames of teal, purple, and orange danced up from the bottom. I pointed to a small door labeled Fitting Room and she entered hesitantly. I turned and walked right into Natasha.
“Oh! I’m sorry!”
“Do not fret child, it’s alright,” she assured me and then gazed at me almost lovingly. “What is your name, dear?”
“Stasia.” She continued to stare at me and her blue eyes darkened, taking on an otherworldly quality.
“Dangerous waters await you, but destiny breathes within you. You shine with a pure beauty all your own.”
“Um, thank you,” I mumbled, unsure of how to respond to that.
She just smiled and placed the tray of glasses down on a small sitting table.
“Help yourselves to the tea, girls, it’s a new herbal recipe I’ve created.” I heard Phoebe mumble something about six feet under in the fitting room and hoped Natasha didn’t hear it. If she did, she didn’t show it. She glided over to the sewing table and began searching through a rack of dresses.
“Ta-da!” No longer whispering, Phoebe pranced out of the fitting room and twirled around.
Accentuating her tiny waist, the different layers of fabric flowed out elegantly down to the floor from the silver band. As the cream changed to teal, orange and purple it reminded me of an exotic bird.
She looked exquisite.
“It’s beautiful!” Willow clasped her hands together.
“It looks like it was made for you, Phoebs!” I exclaimed and Carmen shook her head in agreement.
“I am so getting this. It’s perfect!” Phoebe twirled around again, grinning from ear to ear.
“Did you find one yet?” She asked me.
“Not yet.”
“I believe you’ll find your taste matches this particular dress.” I whirled around at the extreme closeness of her voice. Natasha stood mere inches from me, holding a bunch of fabric I assumed was a gown. Her eyes watched me knowingly and I began to get slightly uncomfortable as she continued to stare at me with a wide, almost proud smile on her face.
I took the dress and high-tailed it to the fitting room.
I carefully stepped into the dress and zipped the back up as far as I could. I twisted to see my reflection in the mirror. The woman looking back at me caught me off guard. She was…beautiful.
The dress itself began over one shoulder, swooping down to cover my chest as it followed the curves of my body perfectly; down my waist and flaring out mid-thigh. Ironically, the tag said this particular style was called mermaid. The bright teal color matched my eyes perfectly and gave the impression I was much tanner than I really was. It wasn’t quite a teal though, more of a…
“Aquamarine,” I whispered, as a shiver ran down my spine. An intricate swooping design embroidered in black started at the shoulder, snaking across the top of the dress and around to the back as it curved back in front ending where the dress split mid-thigh. Black lace peeked out of the slit, enhancing the gothic mood of the dress. It was as if it had been made to match the necklace Finn gave me. How could he have known? I heard Phoebe outside the door.
“You gonna hog it all for yourself or let the rest of us see it, too?” she teased me. I took one last look, unlatched the door and walked out. After a full minute of everyone gawking at me wide-
eyed, Willow finally broke the silence.
“Wow. Stasia,” she stared at me. “It’s so…you.”
“Damn. Finn isn’t going to be able to keep his hands off you!” Carmen whistled, and flashed a sinister grin. I looked down at the dress and smiled. It was perfect.
“I’ll take it,” I told Natasha.
“I had a feeling you might. It looks absolutely ravishing on you.” She smiled approvingly and turned back to her sewing table.
After some tea (void of poison), we paid for our dresses and headed for the door where Natasha shook each of our hands. I noticed she held on to mine a second too long, studying my trace. I wondered if she knew what she was looking at.
“If you girls need anything at all, let me know. And come back any time. I don’t get many visitors so it’s always a treat.” We made our way down the front steps.
“Oh, and girls?” Phoebe and I turned. “Enjoy the meteor shower. I hear it’s quite lovely.” She smiled with a gleam in her eye. Goose bumps popped up on my arms. Not once had we mentioned the Ball.
With that harrowing conversation, Phoebe practically slid over the hood of Carmen’s car to get to the passenger door and away from Natasha.
“Well that wasn’t creepy at all…” Carmen said sarcastically as she put the car in reverse.
Natasha remained on the porch as we pulled out of the driveway. I turned to look at her one last time, but she had vanished.
Chapter 22
“This might be difficult,” Phoebe chewed on her fingernails, in deep thought. The sand before us was flat and unassuming. Unfortunately, we hadn’t marked the new nest. It was going to be a challenge to find them without digging up the entire beach. Then again, perhaps the eggs could find me instead. I dropped to my knees. I skimmed my hand atop the sand to see if I could somehow sense the hatchlings. I inched forward carefully, continuing to sweep my hand back and forth. Something close to static electricity shocked my pinky finger and I stopped, moving my hand back over that same place. More tiny electrical currents shot into my fingers and I beamed up at Phoebe with excitement.
“I think I found them!” I started digging carefully through the sand to uncover them.
“Wait, I have a better way.” Phoebe dropped to her knees, too. She expertly held her hands above the nest and the sand retreated, uncovering the eggs. We leaned over to get a better look. They appeared perfectly intact, except for several small cracks. There were no movement or signs of life, but they weren’t broken. That’s all we could hope for at this point.
Phoebe placed a hand on my shoulder. “I think they’re gonna be just fine.”
“I wish we could tell if they’re still alive.” I looked on as Phoebe held her palms above the nest commanding the sand to fill it back in. We inspected Phoebe’s work and decided you’d never know we were here. And you definitely couldn’t tell there was a nest of sea turtle eggs beneath the sand.
We brushed our legs off and returned to Maren.
A sliver of moonlight streaming in the window spotlighted my new dress, giving it a stage to shine. Lying in bed, I turned onto my side to admire it. The material shimmered as it swayed from the blowing vent on the
floor. It seemed to have a life all its own. The black lace added an element of mystery to the otherwise vibrant dress and the embroidered design drew your attention down the length of it. I couldn’t believe I’d be wearing it to an official Ball in a couple of days.
A slight chill swirled around me. I reached down to pull up the comforter, but my hands didn’t find it. The other issue was that my bed had disappeared. I was standing back on the wide platform surrounded by water. I felt the breeze at my back and looked over my shoulder. My heels were only an inch from the edge of the platform. Water churned at least ten stories below me, sloshing up against one of the large pylons. I forced my feet forward, putting as much distance between myself and certain death as quickly as possible. I’d have to work on where in these reveries I appeared. A ten story fall was not tempting whatsoever. The platform looked exactly as it did last time I was here, with the exception of blood splatters everywhere. There was a large circle drawn in the middle as if it was a landing pad. Why would there be a landing pad out in the middle of the ocean?
A two story tower stood at one corner, with a rotating light at the top that resembled a small lighthouse. With no artificial light for miles, I was surprised at how many stars I could see. I didn’t know that many stars even existed. I took a seat and leaned back on my elbows. The chill of the platform brought out goose bumps on my legs. I was dressed in what I wore to bed, which happened to be thin shorts and an even thinner tank top. No wonder I was freezing! I’d have to start wearing warmer clothes to bed. I shrugged and turned my attention back to the sky. I easily located the constellations I was used to seeing, like the big dipper or Orion’s belt, but the impressive amount of additional stars distracted me from their shapes. I raised my hand to the sky, closed one eye and connected the dots of Orion with my finger. I could actually make out his entire body and bow. I imagined what it would have been like long ago when people believed the Gods were depicted in the stars. From my spot on the platform, I could see why they were so preoccupied with the heavens.
A cough from the other side of the platform had me jumping to my feet. With my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see someone sitting against the wall of the tower, arms resting on their knees, head down. I crept forward. As I got closer I saw something wrapped around his hands with several strips of fabric hanging from them. Gloves.
“Finn?” I whispered. The person’s head snapped up at my voice. He stood and walked towards me slowly, as if every movement brought excruciating pain. He was wearing yellow basketball shorts and no shirt. The light from the stars reflected on his strong torso and I forced myself not to drool.
“Why are you here?” he asked harshly. I closed the distance between us and touched his shoulder, but he jerked away, not facing me.
“I…I think I’m having a reverie. I don’t know how I got here.” I stumbled over my words.
“You should leave.” The ice in his voice cut deep and I instantly got defensive.
“It’s not like I can control these things, Finn! I can’t help when and where I show up.” When he reluctantly turned towards me, his eyes fell to his feet and an exhausted-sounding sigh left his body. I was shocked by what I saw. His left cheek was bloody, a deep gash ran from his ear to his collarbone, and his left shoulder was bruised with another large gut in his bicep. The trace on his forearm had dulled slightly, but remained untouched. I reached out to him, but he shrunk away.
“What happened to you?” I asked gingerly.
“Nothing.” He tried to turn away from me again, but I grabbed both of his hands, holding him firmly in front of me. The roughness of the leather wrapped around them rubbed against my palms, reminding me of how very male he was. He gave off a distinct aura of conviction and strength that made my knees weak.
“This doesn’t look like nothing. Who did this to you?”
“This time it was Cage and Ricker.” He shook his head and looked down. Then more so to himself, than me, he muttered, “I’ve got to figure this out. I’m running out of time.”
“This time? Who are Cage and Ricker?”
“They’re Sons too,” he replied, “and my roommates.”
“What? Why would they do this to you?” I could feel my anger rising.
“They’re helping me,” he dropped his head and sighed.
“I don’t get it, Finn. How is fighting with you helping you?”
“This doesn’t concern you, Stasia.” He growled at me, clearly frustrated. “It’s not something you need to know about yet.”
“Doesn’t concern me? It’s way too late for that.” I took a step toward him. “I don’t like seeing you like this.”
“Which is why you should leave.” I could hear the anguish in his voice.
“No. I care about you, Finn. I can handle whatever this is.” He looked back at me with stubbornness, then finally resignation. His shoulders sagged.
“You don’t know that. You can’t know that. It’s not up to you-“ As if he’d said too much, he clamped his mouth shut and closed his eyes. I wrapped my arms around him, laying my head against his firm chest. The tension in his muscles made it feel like I was hugging a brick wall. After a moment of hesitation, his body relaxed and his breathing slowed. My gaze drifted to his hurt shoulder, and I noticed the bruises had already receded. Pulling out of his arms, I inspected the gashes that were on his arm and neck. The gaping holes had closed and were beginning to turn a dark pink as his skin healed and renewed itself. I looked to his face next. His cheek was no longer swollen and the blood I had seen was completely gone. I searched his eyes and he attempted a grin.
“Another ability,” he replied simply.
“The other time I saw you here…that’s why you were completely healed the next day. No wonder…” I remembered the double axe. The question spilled from my lips before I could stop it.
“Did you kill him?” This brought on a full smile and he laughed.
“What do you think?” he raised an eyebrow. I stared at him in disbelief, but he just grinned.
“Fortunately for Ian, I let him live,” he replied smugly.
“Ian? That’s who you were fighting?”
“Not fighting. Preparing,” he corrected me.
“Did you help kill Nicolet?” Might as well throw out all the questions on my mind.
“No.”
“But you were there. Why haven’t you told anyone what we saw? That she was murdered?”
“Why haven’t you?”
“Cause no one would believe me.”
“Exactly.”
We walked around the periphery of the platform. “But I don’t want to talk about who I’ve killed and who I haven’t killed.” I looked up at him trying to figure out if he was kidding as chills ran down my spine, but his face told me nothing. Our conversation only confused me more. We reached the edge and I hesitantly peered down at the water below. Finn sat down with ease, letting his feet dangle. He held out his hand for me to sit next to him. My heart was beating out of my chest and I was having trouble breathing, but I wasn’t going to let him see my fear. I painstakingly lowered myself down, allowing my legs to dangle over the side, too. My breath came out ragged and I tried to calm my nerves. I rubbed my arms as a sudden blast of cold air hit me. My barely-there tank top didn’t do much to keep me warm. Finn moved closer to me and put his arm around me.
“The clothes I sleep in aren’t really made for midnight trips out at sea,” I muttered.
His eyes moved over my body, then back up to meet mine as he grinned at me playfully. “I gotta tell you, I’ve always liked your choice of clothing during your nighttime reveries.”
“You mean the lack of clothing?” I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Maybe.” He dropped his head and looked up at me pretending to be bashful; his wicked smile telling me what he was really thinking.
“From now on I’m wearing a muu muu to bed.” I crossed my arms.
“You’re going to wear a cow to bed?” Finn scrunched his nose at me
, making me giggle.
“No! You’ve never heard of a muu muu?” He shook his head. “It’s one of those long night gowns that grandmas like to wear.”
“I don’t care if you wear a muu muu or a tutu, you’ll still be beautiful.”
“That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I joked with him. “And you get extra points for making it rhyme.”
“I write love poems when I’m not rapping. It comes naturally.” He winked at me.
“If you start rapping, I promise you I’ll throw myself off this platform.”
“Well we can’t have that. I’d have to jump in after you and these aren’t my swim trunks.
Lucky for us, I don’t rap on days that end in Y.” Finn laughed, and then asked, “So, do you know where we are?”
I looked from side to side, “In the middle of the ocean?”
“Almost.” In a tour guide voice, he announced, “You are sitting on the official Frying Pan Shoals Light Station.”
“Frying Pan?” I looked up at him skeptically.
“Hey, I wasn’t the one that came up with it. Don’t ask me why they named it after something you cook eggs in. All I know is that it’s a type of lighthouse to warn ships about the Frying Pan Shoals sticking out from the Cape.” I looked out at the water, trying to see any sign of light in the distance.
“So, this is off the coast of Bald Head?” I continued squinting but didn’t see anything.
