by J. K. Holt
“How is Dray?” Her words were eager, Tess knew, but she hoped Ashe wouldn’t notice.
The corners of Ashe’s mouth turned down, thoughtful. “He’s Dray, I suppose. Brooding. Acting haunted. It’s almost like he isn’t comfortable in his own skin, you know?” Ashe grimaced. “Honestly, I don’t know what would give him peace anymore. It certainly isn’t me these days.” An undercurrent of bitterness cut through his words, masking the raw pain beneath.
The memory of Dray’s, of he and Ashe as brothers, fighting and laughing, playing and competing, hit Tess hard, like the afterimage of a television screen after all had gone black. Before she could think twice, she blurted out- “he loves you very much, Ashe. I hope you know how much. He thinks about you, and about protecting you, every minute of every day.”
Ashe was stunned to silence- his nostrils flared and he quickly turned away. The sunlight took that moment to pull free of the clouds and hit him, mingling with his aura to create incandescent shades of light. Tess took his hand gently before speaking again.
“I think he’s pulled away… well, because he’s grieving. And I think he’s worried that you wouldn’t- well, maybe you wouldn’t be able to hold that pain with him. So he tries to keep it to himself, and he pulls away from you to do it. But I think he missed you. He misses what you two were. He wants it back.”
Ashe finally cleared his throat, and when he spoke, his voice was thick. “How do you know all this?”
Tess considered. “Well, don’t you? I think deep down you do. Anyone can see it, if they’re looking at it from the right angle.” She tilted her head, as if to illustrate her point, and pinpricks of light hit her eyes from the waves as the sea churned beautifully, uncaringly, around them.
A bittersweet note of pain welled in her, and instead of pushing it aside, she welcomed it, harnessed it into her words to strengthen them. “I think grief breaks you apart, and it’s about how you heal. Sometimes people take a long time to close up the wounds. Other times, they heal wrong, and so there is still so much more pain than there should be. I think that’s what happened with Dray… and maybe, you?”
Ashe made a noise at this that sounded like a stifled sob, though with his head still turned it was difficult to tell. Tess took his hand tenderly inside her own. “Ashe. I think there’s a way still. To fix it. But I think you might need to pull open the wound again and- well, sort through it all again before it can mend the right way. If that makes any sense at all.”
Ashe finally looked at Tess again, and what pulsed across his face was raw, and painful to look at, though she forced herself to hold his gaze. After a moment, his eyes softened, changed, and she might have been imagining it, but Tess thought she saw hope there too, as if her words had illuminated some path out of the darkness that he’d not yet considered. She desperately hoped she was right.
Ashe finally chuckled, and his aura receded slightly as the intensity of his emotions ebbed. Wonderingly, he said, almost to himself- “Oh, girl. Where on earth did you come from?”
His words stole the breath from her body, and it took a moment for her to understand his full meaning. She laughed, and it rang false in her ears, but she hoped it was enough.
They sat companionably for a while longer, listening to the gulls and the clanking of the bells on the ships in the bay, until Tess gently dismissed Ashe. This time, honesty provided the best answer. “I just need some time alone, to think. I’ll be alright.” He didn’t look too comfortable with it, but he departed all the same, casting one backwards glance, like a jilted lover wondering if the decision was truly a final one, before disappearing from sight. The knowledge that she was alone was freeing.
Knowing that it might make passersby think her strange, and not one bit concerned about it, Tess lay herself back against the rough planks and considered the clouds. A Joni Mitchell song about clouds and love and life played through her head like an old and welcome friend, and she was grateful for the melody. It reminded her of Maggie.
She needed Maggie’s calm spirit now, but since her vision of Maggie on the boat, Maggie’s voice had been noticeable absent in her mind. It didn’t cause Tess pain, or pause, though. Instead, it felt like since that moment, she’d changed in some fundamental way herself, like she’d absorbed some of Maggie’s spirit within herself. It was this piece of herself that she now attempted to channel.
She had something to consider that could no longer be ignored. She’d tried, and at several points almost been successful, in her attempts to convince herself that she belonged here. She’d repeated the story of her origin from Merktown, her relationship with Gowan, so many times that it felt less like myth now and more like truth, but deep inside she knew it for the falsehood it was. And it hadn’t seemed to be hurting anyone at all for quite some time- in fact, it had kept her safe, away from the prying eyes of others who might otherwise consider her arrangement with Gowan unseemly, or spend too much time considering her arrival in this small fishing village. It was a necessary armor to shield herself from the vast unknowns in this world.
And there were still so many unknowns. If anything, they seemed to multiply by the day. But as many bewildering and terrifying aspects there were to this realm, there were things she’d learned that had endeared her to it as well. Relationships here seemed, in a way, more genuine, and in some other way, it felt more acceptable to experience the raw emotions of life without feeling the urge to filter them for the comfort of others. As Tess contemplated, she wondered if it was truly this world, or just she that had changed, and the chicken or the egg question remained, though in some ways it didn’t really matter. Regardless of why, she was different here, and as such, she wanted very much to stay.
And she wanted to help the people she’d come to care for.
Which led back, inevitably, to the problem at hand. It was now impossible to ignore the obvious- she was different. She had no aura. She saw the auras of others. Not to mention the fact that she’d managed to travel to this world through some sort of power of will, and that she’d somehow been able to save Dray from his fate of a lost soul. It was this saving him that had done it, however- convincing her that her difference enabled her, bestowed upon her a power that she might possibly be able to wield to help the others. It was overwhelming to consider the influence she might have, if only she learned how. But therein lay the problem. Her ignorance could no longer be bliss- she owed it to these people who had lost so much, despite her reservations. She owed it to them to try.
Now it was only a matter of deciding what to do next. And she had an inkling.
∞ ∞ ∞
The familiar sound of the door groaning loudly upon its admittance of a person into the interior of the Muddy Gull made Gowan wince and Tess jump. To hide her anxiety, she cast a snide remark to Gowan about introducing him to the idea of oil for the hinges, to which he told her to feel free to do it herself as they rounded the corner of the back rooms to find Tulla waiting for them. She was in the process of unwrapping a slightly unwieldy scarf from her neck and shoulders, and she nodded curtly to Gowan before shooting Tess a look that spoke volumes- this had better be worth my time.
Tess motioned them towards the side of the front counter, where she’d hastily assembled a few chairs in anticipation of their meeting. Reluctantly, both Gowan and Tulla sat, and Tulla glanced around the shop with mild curiousity. Tess wondered when the last time was that she’d set foot in here. When Tess had first sought her out to request her presence, Tulla had wanted the meeting to be at the bakery, but Tess had been adamant. So much of this would be outside her control after tonight- she wanted to be in familiar territory at least at the start. Tulla had eventually given in, but her discomfort was evident. Though she and Gowan had begun to repair some of what had been damaged between them years ago, it was obvious that there was still much to do- in the meantime, the relationship was tenuous. They both seemed to be struggling to find their old footing with one another. But this couldn’t bother Tess now.
&n
bsp; She’d brought the two of them here for a very specific purpose, as they were both essential in what would follow. Gowan, who trusted her, and Tulla, who did not. Both older, wiser than herself. Both large, important pieces in whatever game of chess came next.
Tess lowered herself gingerly into the seat opposite them- her ribs still ached and protested at every little turn. “I’m not sure where to begin,” Tess finally admitted.
To her surprise, Tulla chuckled. She leaned back in her chair and smiled at Tess. “So we’re here now then. To the truth of it, eh?” Her tone was dry, but Tess could read no malevolence in Tulla’s gaze, and nodded in response.
Tulla tilted her head, studying Tess, before a shadow of something crossed her face- respect, Tess thought. Ashe had mentioned that she might have grown in his mother’s esteem for surviving the ordeal on the Blackbirder, but Tess wondered if that was it. She had a suspicion that it was more to do with Dray. Perhaps Tulla didn’t know how Tess had saved him, but nonetheless, she was grateful to Tess in some small way for the miracle that seemed to have followed.
Gowan lifted his eyebrows, shifting slightly as his muscles tensed with anxiety, pulling Tess back to the present moment. “Wait a moment, girl. Just… are you certain? Have you truly thought this through?”
It was Tess’s turn to laugh. “Rot, no. That’s what you two are here for. I only know the next step, and nothing past that. I’m trusting you both to help me figure the rest out.”
Gowan glanced at Tulla, who shrugged good-naturedly at him. He finally sighed and crossed his arms, nodding.
“When uncertain, the beginning is usually the best place to start,” Tulla suggested at Tess’s silence.
Tess sighed. “This could take a while.”
In response, Gowan rose, walked to the door and turned the lock. Task finished, he returned to his seat and nodded to Tess.
The time for stalling is over, sweet. Maggie chided her comfortably from the depths.
Alright already. Tess reached down and pulled out a small bundle of blanket from beneath her seat, within which was wrapped her bright pink sneakers- proof for the admission that was about to come next.
“So…I’m not from around here… which is actually the understatement of the year.”
Another glance was exchanged between the two of them, cautious but expectant. Gowan gave her a reluctant smile before nodding.
“Go on.”
Acknowledgments
To my awesome first readers, who gave me such helpful and necessary feedback- my lovely friend Melissa, my fabulous sister-in-law Kimberly, and my parents Todd and Diane. And to my husband Jason- your encouragement kept me writing. I love you guys.
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