I blinked quickly, “Umm, because—” my voice drifted off and I raised a hand to my head. A notion of what he was doing entered my mind and I wondered if I could turn his own questions around on him. It had been so long since I’d had a connection to the merfolk world. I yearned for it, and the desire to hear news, any news, was overpowering. As my heart relaxed, I wondered what I could do to make him talk. I wanted to know if the others were safe. Maybe he knows what Morven is up to.
“Would you like some hot chocolate?” The question was random, but I hoped that if he was put off guard he would reveal something he didn’t intend to.
“What?”
“Would you like some hot chocolate?” I repeated and explained more fully. “I was going to make some for myself and wondered if you wanted any.” I spoke with a confidence I didn’t know I possessed and hoped the layer of false hospitality wasn’t too evident.
“No,” his one word was bitter. There goes that.
“Would you at least come and sit at the table? We could talk there if you want.” I suggested and turned to walk to the kitchen.
After a moment, I heard him follow me, his boots making soft footfalls on the wooden floor. I wanted to turn around and look at him, but refrained from doing so. I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Once I had grabbed the box of coco mix out of the pantry, I couldn’t take the temptation anymore and turned.
I froze and the box fell from my hands, the small packets spilling out all over the floor. I hardly, noticed because there he was right in front of me. It was Patrick, his eyes, his face, his hair, everything. He was all there, standing before me in my kitchen, leaning against the solid wooden table.
He watched me with curiosity and restraint; his arms folded across his broad chest and his eyes wary. He held his chin differently; it was fierce and reminded me of Morven. Although I tried to shake the thought from my mind, the more I looked at him the more I realized how much he resembled the Hyven leader. The massive shoulders and arms, coupled with his glaring eyes as he took in my expression only furthered my observation. A myriad of thoughts filled my mind, and I didn’t know what to do.
“What?” he asked, his voice was deep and reproachful. Doesn’t he know? What happened to you?
Then the words came back. A memory of what Shaylee and Tunder had told Patrick and me so long ago. I remembered them speaking of a siren and a warrior. At the time I had only been worried about myself, now, the memory hit me hard and I realized who this was before me. Morven had succeeded. This was his warrior.
“Do you know who I am?” I asked, my voice cracking. I hated to ask the question, but I needed to know.
“Lissie, I believe that’s your name.” He said shifting his shoulders beneath his black shirt in a manner that suggested he knew he was right. Yet, there was no recollection in his eyes aside from the memory of me in Hyvar. He didn’t know me; I was only a girl that he had seen once before. Sorrow ripped at the edges of the wound he had made when he told me Patrick was dead, but I took a deep breath and held my fear back only to have it replaced by anger.
Fury that I had often felt toward Morven was nothing compared to the hatred I felt coursing through me now. He had taken away Patrick’s mind, beat him senseless and turned him into a piece for his twisted game against the Lathmorians. My hands were shaking and I balled them into fists to keep it from being so obvious.
“What’s your name?” I asked through my tightened jaw and forced the tears of fury back.
The warrior hesitated and his expression was so foreign on that familiar face that I wanted to scream.
“Zale,” he said.
“Zale,” I tested the name in my mouth. It name fit the stature and look of the warrior in my kitchen. He was haughty and angry, nothing like he used to be. This was a different person.
“Are you going to make that?” He said and looked down at the spilled hot chocolate packets on the floor.
“No, I don’t want it anymore,” I confirmed and bent to pick up the strewn contents. He watched me as I put the box away and when I went to sit at the table he took the seat opposite me. For a moment we measured each other up. Internally, I was quaking with anger and grief, but struggled to stay calm. I wanted to wake up from this nightmare, but I knew that I couldn’t.
“You still haven’t given me a good enough answer.”
“I told you there was no point.” My voice was defeated and I looked at my hands. I couldn’t look into those hard brown eyes knowing they used to be so soft and warm.
“I could’ve alerted the whole castle and you would be dead now. The Lathmorian you were with was right.”
“Not necessarily.” I mumbled under my breath and continued to avert my eyes.
“So that’s it?” His voice was so gravely, “You didn’t kill me because there was no reason. What about the human?”
My head shot up. “Just forget it.”
“No,” His eyes were fierce. “I came all the way here to find out why you didn’t have him kill me when you had the chance.”
“You came here by yourself?” I asked quickly, “Morven didn’t send you?”
Zale’s face paled slightly. “No, Lord Morven didn’t send me. And you would do well to refer to him as such.” His fingers tensed on the table.
“Why should I? I am an ally of the Lathmorians, not the Hyven.” I spit the name of his fellow merfolk back in his face. His teeth ground together, and for a moment I wondered if I should anger him. It was certain that he could kill me a hundred different ways with his bare hands, and I was sure he was carrying some sort of weapon beneath his shirt.
“Then why do you live here, instead of in Lathmor? I could kill you easily and pass it off as a simple murder. No one would ever know the truth.” An evil grin crept across his mouth.
I didn’t answer his questions; and his vicious grin broadened.
“So you’re an enemy of the Hyven, and you’ve been exiled from Lathmor.”
“I haven’t been exiled.” Tears threatened my eyes once more and I looked away. How can this be him?
“But you don’t live there do you?” He had a point and I couldn’t argue it.
“Why don’t you just kill me if that’s what you came here for?” I sighed, not sure if I wanted him to. Seeing his face this way made what little hope I had become dust strewn across a dirty floor, that once stepped on disappeared without a trace.
“I’m not going to kill you.” He said, his voice softer than before. I looked up and saw a dark glow that burned in his gaze which gave me the oddest sensation. A small knot formed in my stomach and I swallowed past the lump in my throat as my heart stilled. By his simple clarification, I had the feeling he was telling the truth. He wouldn’t kill me, and in some way, it seemed he meant the words more than he could explain.
He cleared his throat and said, “I came for answers.”
“And I already told you my reason. I don’t know what else you want.” I let my hands hit the table softly, suggesting innocence.
“I want to know who the human was.”
My breath caught, and I shook my head. How could he ask me something like that? I looked away into the dimly lit living room. My eyes avoiding the large merman that sat across from me. You’ve done your work well, Morven, he doesn’t even know himself.
“No,” was all I could say. I concentrated on keeping my emotions intact. This body that used to be Patrick’s would never know I loved him. He would never know I had kissed those same lips, and had looked deeply into those brown eyes and heard words of love come from that mouth. He would never know the way I had felt in his arms, and how when everything had gone crazy, he had been the one place of stability. It would only make my pain worse.
“No, what?”
“Just no,” I said and glared back at him.
“Why? He was only human, why risk yourself for him?”
I stood up suddenly, my chair grinding against the floor, and stared down at the large merman. His shiny gold hair fl
ickered as he lifted his head to look at me.
“Ask your master, and see if he’ll tell you.” I challenged and the words hung in the air.
“He wouldn’t tell me.” He growled and I wondered why Morven would hide this from him. Why not let him know who Patrick was?
“I guess we’re at an impasse then.” I said, my voice flat.
He raised an eyebrow in response and stood without making a noise. I watched him stride to the door and waited for him to look back, but he disappeared into the dark night as though he had never been here. The door closed with finality and I stood there stunned.
I pinched my arm to make sure that I was awake. Maybe this was another nightmare I had to overcome. But as I walked up the stairs to my bedroom, I knew it was real. The Patrick in my beach dream was gone. His voice silenced forever and replaced by the monster that I saw tonight. Morven had completed his work.
With a shuddering sob, I fell into my bed and curled up on my side. I couldn’t even cry, my tears were past being shed. Instead I let the fear and guilt pull me into the depths of their embrace.
Patrick was worse than dead.
7. News
The next morning I woke up feeling as though I’d been run over by a train. Everything was sore and I groaned as I opened my eyes to the bright sunlight streaming in through my window. I had forgotten to shut my blinds last night.
Last night, I paused for a moment and the memory of what happened filled my mind with a crashing rush. Zale, I thought, and took a deep breath hoping to relieve my mind, but the weight was stronger than anticipated. I knew this was something I wouldn’t be able to put behind me.
Looking at the clock, I was surprised by how late it was. I would have to eat breakfast quickly to get to Darrow’s Catch on time. Throwing the covers back, I dashed to the bathroom and took a hurried shower, not even bothering to dry off. By the time I picked up my clothes, my skin was only a sticky damp. I threw my wavy hair into a bun and headed for the stairs.
“I was wondering when you would finally get up,” Dad teased as I made my way toward the kitchen. The brightly colored walls made me squint for a moment.
“Yeah,” I yawned and walked to the pantry to grab some cereal. My breakfast prepared, I sat down across from Dad. I couldn’t help but think of the large person who had sat in the same chair not long ago. A lump formed in my throat and I attempted to eat around it.
“I’m glad you’re finally getting some sleep.” Dad said, and took a sip of his coffee. I smiled weakly, my lips tight. Silence fell between us as I kept my eyes focused on the cinnamon squares in my bowl.
“Sweetie,” he sighed, “I’m worried about you. Ever since you got back, I haven’t felt that you are truly here.”
I let that sink in for a moment. Even after all my trying to be normal, I had failed.
“I’m kind of not,” I answered. “I’ve just, well, there was a lot of stuff that happened, and I sort of relive it every night.”
Dad sighed heavily, “It’s that Morven guy, isn’t it?” I almost smiled, only my father would refer to him in such a way.
“Not really him, but something he did,” I explained and he nodded his head as though he understood. I ducked my head hoping that he was done asking questions.
I finished my cereal and got up to put the bowl and spoon in the dishwasher.
“What time are you leaving for work?” Dad’s tone was disapproving, but he didn’t know how much of a relief it was to have the distraction.
“In a bit. I’m going to go brush my teeth and then I’ll leave.”
“Okay,” he said and paused. “Lissie?”
“Yeah?” I was almost to the stairs and turned back to look at him.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but did you lose someone? Someone you cared for?” So perceptive.
I sighed, how was I supposed to explain Patrick to him? He wasn’t someone I just cared about; that was too simple a word. It was so much more than that. It was the way he had treated me as an equal and yet held me when I was scared. It was the moments when we had spent time talking about trivial things, each moment like small pieces of colored glass that when joined together created something more beautiful than I ever could have dreamed of. But none of that mattered now, because he was gone. His former self was destroyed and all that remained was memories.
“Something like that,” I said, my voice filled with sadness and longing.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, looking down at his coffee. “But I want you to know we love you.”
A pang hit the shattered remains of my heart and I nodded my head. “I love you too.” I said, “I just don’t know if I’ll ever readjust to life back here, but I’m trying.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” he said and smiled. Before he could say more, I darted up the stairs and began the process of distracting myself for the rest of the day. My shift at the restaurant would help, and in the manner of a warrior heading into battle, I put up defenses to forget last night’s events.
_______________
“Don’t you look tired?” Don’t I always? It seemed that was all anyone ever said to me.
I had just entered the house after a long night of work. Unfortunately, the job did not have its usual effect on me. All throughout my shift, thoughts of Patrick and Zale had clouded my mind to the point of making me forgetful. The same questions of how and why and when just continued to swirl through my mind without relief. More than once I had brought the food to the wrong table and near the end of the evening charged a family double the amount they owed. I wanted to feel guilty, but shrugged it off. I hoped they saw the bags under my eyes and wrote if off as exhaustion.
“Yeah, it was a long walk back to say the least,” I told Sean and yawned widely.
“You could borrow my truck if you want, I hardly ever use it.” It was so strange that the twins both had their own trucks. In some way, they had grown up and really become adults while I’d been gone.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll survive.” I grinned and made my way to the kitchen counter. Jillian always covered a plate of food for me and left it there.
“You probably shouldn’t work so much if it’s tiring you out.” Derek materialized beside his twin coming out of the adjoining living room. I tried not to notice how he stood in the exact spot Zale had the night before when I first saw his face.
“It’s not the work that has me tired.” I said while I punched in the time on the microwave.
“Yeah, Dad mentioned you were having trouble sleeping,” he said. I shrugged, and pulled my steaming hot plate from the microwave and made my way to the dinner table. Apparently, my life is an open book.
My brothers talked to me while I ate and I was sure to keep the conversation away from my past. Somehow I could sense the twins knew I was steering away from questions and they obliged, by telling stories of their own. When my dinner was done I excused myself and went upstairs, dreading what would come when my exhausted body slipped out of consciousness.
I awoke slowly; something had pulled my sluggish mind out of its shrouded darkness. Blinking quickly, I rubbed a hand over my face and tried to figure out what had woken me. Slowly, my attention was drawn to a tapping sound clinking off the closed window pane. As soon as I acknowledged the sound, the tapping turned into knocking and fear spiked in my chest when I noticed a figure lurking outside the window.
A cry for help gathered in my throat, but I didn’t utter a sound. I was unable to move, frozen with terror when as my eyes adjusted to the darkness I was able to make out the human form. The figure was slim and long hair rippled in the night wind. I could see the rigid shoulders, and long legs crouched on the roof outside my window. Suddenly, recognition filled me. Kryssa.
I jumped out of bed and ran to the window and it opened easily beneath my fingers. A cold blast of air shot through the gap and into my room. It didn’t bother me, but I hoped Kryssa would hurry. Jillian would be angry if the house got any colder, she had grown up in th
e south and hated the winters here.
“Thanks,” she said as she climbed through, “I thought you weren’t going to wake up.”
I slammed the window shut and turned around to look at my friend. Clad in the typical dark garb of a Lathmorian soldier, she stood powerful and looked out of place in my simple bedroom. Not even thinking, I ran to hug her, she smelled of the ocean.
“It’s good to see you,” I said and warmth pressed on the darkness which reigned inside me.
“Me too,” she said and stepped back after I had hugged her. “You look exhausted.” Her eyes roved over me and I shrank underneath her concern.
“I’ve been better.” I said, feeling the weight of what I knew crash over me again.
I walked over to the bed and motioned for her to join me. We sat with our legs crossed, me at one end and her at the other. She gazed around my room, looking at all my stuff, and pursed her lips.
“Nice room,” she said and bobbed her head.
“Not as nice as yours,” I half-smiled. She continued to look around and I realized this might be the first time she had seen a human’s bedroom. At least in this century.
“Your closet is so small,” she said, her voice betraying her feelings on the matter. “How’s the family? I can’t remember how many siblings you said you had, but if I remember—”
“Why are you here?” I butted in. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to see you, but…” I trailed off.
She heaved a large sigh and her brow furrowed. “Some things have changed.” I knew she meant tactics in the war between the Lathmorians and the Hyven.
“How so?” I asked, “Do the others know you’re here?”
“Yes, everyone who cares about you does. But Voon and his idiotic croonies don’t know. They’d only say that we were giving advice to the enemy. Actually Tunder, Shaylee, Elik, and I are the only ones who know.” I nodded and waited patiently for her to continue.
“You know how we thought Morven had forgotten about you?” She said; my muscles tensed at the mention of his name. “Well, we think Tunder was wrong about that. See there’s this new soldier Morven has.” She made a disgruntled noise. “I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you how we found out and maybe you’ll understand better.”
Ripples (DROPLETS Trilogy Book 2) Page 7
