Tempest Rising
Page 55

More worrying, a few of the beings killed had been fighting with the nagas, rather than against them. The battle had revealed a deeper schism in the community than anyone had ever thought existed, and that schism revolved around the issue of halflings like me. In his role as an investigator, Ryu was going to be very busy for the next few months sorting out the bad apples. And because of my role as the “stupid half-breed bitch” who started the whole thing, I had to get the hell out of Dodge.
So Ryu had apologized profusely and stuck me in a hired car. I totally didn’t mind the hasty retreat. Indeed, I’d never thought I could be that happy to get back to Rockabill. But now, safe in my own bed, I almost wept with relief.
Eventually, I got up to unpack. I hung up what was still clean and piled everything else in my hamper. Finally, I was left with the large white box and its contents.
I’d lost the shoes, in the end. Apparently, nearly getting choked to death was what it took to separate me from designer heels. But they’d miraculously shown up the next morning, laid in front of our external door. The shoes I took out of the box and put in my closet. Then I pulled out the dress.
Unbelievably, considering how delicate it was and what I’d been through, it was entirely intact. Except that it was covered in blood. I knew whose it was; it was Ed’s, the human that Nyx had kidnapped and who had died because he’d been standing between me and Jimmu.
I sat, cross-legged, on my bed holding the dress. It was so beautiful, I should have it cleaned. But instead I carefully folded it back up, blood and all, and stowed it back in the box. The gore encrusting it would serve to remind me of everything I needed to remember: that underneath the glamour and excitement of my mother’s world skulked a dark reality. Human life meant nothing to the Alfar and their Court. We were merely an expendable nuisance for the majority of beings in that society.
And, for better or worse, I was half human—something I could never forget. Beings like Nyx or Jarl would never let me forget it, but neither did I want to. I’d quite obviously taken being human for granted until very recently, but now I clung to it like a badge of honor.
After I’d unpacked and put in a load of laundry, I did as Ryu asked and called him to tell him I was home safe. We talked only briefly. He sounded exhausted and we’d just seen each other that morning. But he promised to visit as soon as everything quieted down and said that he’d phone me next week. Meanwhile, I should call him if I needed anything. I felt all warm and fuzzy after I spoke to him, not least because I kept having flashbacks of him sword fighting. I know you’re not supposed to get horny for violence, but I couldn’t help it. I got horny for violence.
Then I called Grizzie and Tracy. I told them all about Québec, exaggerating everything slightly so it seemed as if that part of the trip had taken the entire week. I promised to show them pictures at work tomorrow. I was very excited to see my friends; I’d missed them very much.
When Grizzie hung up to get their dinner out of the oven, Tracy asked me when I would next see Ryu.
“I’m not really sure,” I answered truthfully. “I know he really likes me, but something came up when we were gone that’s going to mean he’s crazy busy for a while. So, we’ll see what happens.”
“And you’re sure you’re okay with everything?” Tracy asked.
“No,” I told her unexpectedly, startling even myself. I’d known I would eventually have to deal with everything that I experienced last week, but I hadn’t expected it to hit me in the gut like a karate chop. “I’ve got a lot of stuff to think through, Trace. But it’s not because of Ryu. He was great.” I was suddenly tired. “Look, I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She said good-bye, her voice expressing her concern for me.
After the last vestiges of sunlight vanished from the sky, I left for the cove. When Tracy had asked me if I was okay, my first reaction had been to say “yes.” But for the last eight years, I had told myself that I wasn’t ever supposed to be okay again. Oh, Jason, I thought, as I entered our secret world where we’d laughed and made love and discovered ourselves in a way I knew few people ever did. Because of Jason, I knew what love was, and because I knew what love was I knew who I was.
I knelt down in the sand, facing the ocean. I hadn’t thought about Jason all week and I’d been alive. Even with all the fucked-up things that had happened, I knew that there were moments during my trip with Ryu when I’d been the happiest I’d been since the night Jason died. Admitting that, the sliver of me that had frozen up that terrible night in the Sow made itself known and I felt like I’d killed him all over again.
My tears dripped hot and heavy down my face. I’d wanted so desperately to move on, and last week had begun breaking a trail for me, if only I was brave enough to follow. And yet all I could think about, right now, was everything I would have to leave behind and everything I would have to confront. I opened myself, half unwilling, to everything I tried every day not to remember. My hands flexed convulsively in our sand as memories of Jason flooded through me: our using the cove to play Prince and Princess, when he would “rescue” me from the huge old driftwood log we used as a bench when it wasn’t serving as a convenient villain; the first time we kissed in a way that didn’t feel like brother and sister; how those first, fumbling kisses evolved into an intimacy that shouldn’t have been possible in two people so young; how we clung together throughout our griefs, and our hurts; and how we realized that what brought us together was our shared knowledge that life bore no guarantees and no consolation prizes. But despite our own losses, I’d never foreseen that he could be taken away. That had never been a possibility, until it happened.
I was so desolate that I didn’t stir, or even attempt to stop my weeping, when I heard large paws padding through the sand behind me. I was just happy my visitor had come as a dog. I found him easier to deal with that way.
Anyan sat down in the sand next to me. He let me be, not touching me or interfering in any way, until I’d cried myself out. After the last shuddering gasp was torn from my chest and my tears had ceased, he finally spoke.
“He’d want you to live,” was all the big dog said. “If he loved you the way you know he did, he would want you to live.”
My throat closed as tightly as when Jarl’s fist was around it. I’d been told versions of that line about a million times by my dad, by Grizzie, by Tracy, by doctors, by nurses, by shrinks, and even by the occasional stranger. But hearing it from Anyan—the matter of fact way he said it—broke through my carefully erected barriers.
I thought of how much I’d loved Jason. I’d loved him not just for what he gave me, or what I thought we would build together, but because Jason was Jason. I loved him because he was kind, and generous, and he knew how to live in a way that drew others into his happiness. If I had died, and Jason had survived, I would not have wanted him to change. I would want him to be happy. Because he was a good man, and because I loved him.
I knew Anyan was right. Jason would want me to live, because he was Jason.
I was crying again, but this time with a sense of release. I finally admitted to myself that, while some people in Rockabill hadn’t made things easier, they weren’t the ones who had kept me bound to my grief, imprisoned in my own past. I’d done that to myself.
I would always love Jason, and I would forever regret the part I had unwittingly played in his death. But at that moment, staring at my hands buried in the sand of our cove where we had loved each other with such unerring force, and hearing the soft susurrations of my sea whispering to me of forgiveness, I finally appreciated the depth of what our love had meant.
Be at peace, my beloved. It’s time for us both to rest…
Anyan leaned down, his soft tongue grazing my knuckles. I managed to smile into his big doggie face, until the impulse took me to throw my arms around his neck. I sank my nose into the thick fur of his ruff, inhaling his scent of warm, clean dog spiced with an undertone of cardamom. He obligingly allowed me to cling to him for a minute, before withdrawing slightly to lick the last of my tears from my cheek with quick strokes of his able tongue. I met his gray gaze with my black, and for the first time in a very long while, I smiled with my whole being.
“Go swim, Jane,” his rough voice commanded, as he used his broad head to nudge me toward the water. “Nell will begin your training tomorrow and you’ll need all the energy you can get.”
A startled thrill of anticipation shivered through me at his unexpected words. I hadn’t thought things would move so quickly. My training, I thought. Tomorrow I’m going to start training. What exactly I was going to learn was a mystery to me, but the thought of being able to use the power I could—even now—feel pulsing under my skin floored me.
I thought about the tricks I’d seen Ryu and the others do: the mage lights, the glamours, the swords of fire that cut tigers in half. I had no desire to cut a tiger in half, but still. The idea that I might one day do even a quarter of those things thrilled me and I couldn’t wait to see what I was capable of.