CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Two days passed. We didn't talk much, but slowly Eran seemed to be regaining some sense of himself. He was still distant, and I was still cut off entirely from his feelings, save what I could decipher on his face. It worried me. I tried to figure out what I could do to help, but he wouldn't talk and I couldn't bear asking any of the questions that were clamoring for attention in my head.

We were watching television one afternoon. It was disgusting and shallow, but fascinating. Eran had discovered the remote control and had settled on some old sitcom. It switched to a loud, crassly humorous commercial, and one of his eyebrows was drawn down in an expression of irony.

"T.V. is so weird," I said. He nodded.

"Yeah."

"I've never heard you use that word."

"It must be rubbing off."

"Are you watching this?"

He scoffed. "No." I turned it off.

"Let's go for a walk."

The trees were in their full summer glory. We passed a group of kids in swimsuits playing with chalk on the sidewalk. I smiled. They looked away, then back, then away again. I caught a hint of music. Marea. It was a beautiful song, cheerful and trilling and suited to the day.

"At last that's the same," I said.

"What is?"

"The singing."

He knit his eyebrows.

"What singing?"

"Marea."

He nodded. "Oh."

We walked in silence for a while. Her music kept going in the background as we drew closer to a park by the shore. The sea looked different than it had in Merlana, darker and colder and not quite so big. Well, of course it would. We were in a whole different part of the world. I sat on a swing and rocked gently back and forth. Eran sat next to me.

Princess, Marea said in a sing-song voice.

Yes?

Your family says hello. I shouldn't say too much, never know who's listening… but probably no Desviadans today. There's a big storm on the coast. Lots of problems it's causing.

I laughed. Thank you. Eran glanced at me.

"What?"

"What what?"

"What are you laughing at?"

"Marea," I said again. "Didn't you hear her? She's sent storms to Desviado."

"I see."

Eran, Marea said in the same tone. Little sea shephard. Eran. Nothing. I looked at him, then out at sea. Eran… Realization hit and knocked my breath away. I stared at the water.

He can't hear you.

Seems like it, she said.

"Eran." He looked at me. I met his eyes, and he didn't look away, but neither did his eyes connect to mine as they used to. "What happened when you… after she stabbed you?"

He looked away. "I don't know."

"What's a life spell?"

"It takes your energy," he said. "Your powers, however many years you might have lived, everything you've got. Enough life spells and you can live forever. It's evil magic. But I didn't know if you could use a substitute."

"But you risked it."

"Yes."

It was quiet but for the creaking of the swing chains. I took a deep breath; the air was salty and fresh.

"Why did you do it?"

"I just did it," he said. "I didn't think."

What did it do to you? I thought. My words hit a dark wall and rebounded, slamming behind my eyes. I lurched; he held out a hand to steady me.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I said, blinking to clear the stars from my eyes. I'd have to say it. Out loud, where the air could make everything real. "What did it do? To you, I mean." He didn't respond; words rose to fill the silence. "You're so… different."

"I know."

I waited. He looked down at the ground.

"You can't hear her, can you?"

His shoulder twitched. It was as though I'd slapped him. I bit the inside of my cheek. When he spoke, his voice was so low I had to strain to hear it.

"I can't hear anything." He cleared his throat. "There's nothing, just this… this silence. I've never heard silence before. Not really. There was always something, even if I didn't want to hear it, always some message or feeling." He looked down at our hands. Mine had somehow come to rest atop his. "And… I can't feel you anymore."

"Eran, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"It is, actually."

"No," he said. "I was supposed to protect you, and I did."

"But not like this."

He shrugged. "What are we going to do about it now? I just have to accept it."

The quiet resignation in his voice made my eyes prickle. I wanted to say something, but my voice wouldn't force out the words.

"Why am I here?" he asked after a while. "Why aren't I in Merlana?"

A laugh broke from my choked throat. It sounded like it was bringing tears up with it. I swallowed hard.

"I don't quite know," I said, too brisk to cover up the sudden emotion. "I just knew you needed to be with me. Orion agreed with me."

"Then there must be a reason."

There was. There had to be, or else Orion wouldn't have suggested this. Marea wouldn't have spoken to me, whatever she'd meant. I bit my lip.

"Are you okay?" he asked. I shook my head.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You're crying."

"No, I'm not, I ---" I looked away. "I'm fine."

He turned his hand over. My fingers slipped between his. It should have been weird, but it wasn't. Instead I was so relieved to have some connection with him again that I held on, wishing it was more and trying to think again how to bring him back.

"Eran," I said.

"Yes?"

"We're going to get through this."

"I think you will," he said softly.

"I said we."

"I heard you."

A tear sneaked out. I brushed it away and pretended to be pushing hair behind my ear.

There had to be something we could do. There had to be some way. A thought, unrelated, slipped into my mind.

"Does Rochelle have your powers now?"

He was thoughtful a moment.

"I don't know. It's possible. Probable."

I had to get word back home. They probably knew already, but still, I had to do everything I could to help.

Marea? I called. She was there immediately.

A message?

Yes. Tell them ---

I know what to tell them. But after this, not so much communication. If you're right, she'll be able to hear what I'm saying. Keep quiet, even in your thoughts.

I will. Thank you.

A gust of wind came up from behind us. My hair blew into my face and stuck to my lips and wet cheek; I brushed it away.

A week slipped past, and then another. I found a job in a little used bookstore near the harbor. The place smelled like paper and histories and reminded me of older sections of the library of the Palace Merlana. My boss was a white-haired old woman named Ruth with a passion for gardening and classic British literature, and spent hours reading and reorganizing when business was slow. I followed her example.

Eran sometimes rode with me downtown, then would go and wander through the shops in the nearby area. I worried for him constantly, and demanded that he have his cell phone with him at all times. Lisette, in a burst of foresight, had made sure we both had phones; I was deeply grateful.

The bell on the door rang. I looked up from where I had been restocking shelves on Japanese theatre. It was him. I smiled.

"Hey."

"Hi." He handed me a small paper bag. Inside was a pastry. I grinned.

"Thanks."

"It's starting to rain out," he said. "I thought I'd come see how you were doing."

"Mary?"

I set the bag on the counter and leaned over the wobbly railing that led down to the basement. Ruth was standing at the bottom of the stairs, a collection of cheap romance novels in her arms.

"Yes?"

"Where did I put the new relationship advice books? I'm going to put a section of them next to this crap as a statement on the futility of love in general, since no real man will ever compare with the dashingly roguish character of this ---" she picked up a book and eyed it "--- fellow whose name, I can only presume, is Sebastian the Shirtless Pirate."

I shot Eran a look, then said, "I think they're all in those crates behind the back shelves."

"Thanks much. Who's up there with you?"

"Aaron."

"Who?"

"My husband," I said, though the words were rather hard to get out. The idea was still too awkward to talk much about; I avoided referring to him as such whenever possible.

"Oh. Well, pardon my musings on the futility of love. My own husbands never turned out to be worth much, but maybe yours will."

"He's doing all right so far," I said with a laugh. She disappeared again, and a while later I could hear her singing some old jazz standard.

"And that," I said, "is Ruth."

"I like her," Eran said.

"It's not hard to. So, what have you been up to all day?"

"Went through some shops and then walked down by the boats. And then a bird dropped this at my feet." He held up an envelope stained with mud and waved by water. I took it. Across the front, in smudged ink, were the words La rispo e sulola ondi.

The words were Merlan. I furrowed my brow.

"The answer is on the waves?"

"It's an old saying," he said. "It means that no matter what questions you have, the answers can be found in the sea."

"Who's it from?"

"I haven't opened it."

"Do you think it's a trap?" I asked. He looked at it, then shook his head.

"No. Look at the way the last 'i' is written."

The letter swooped up, then didn't come back down. Instead, it curved back in on itself and over the previous letter as though about to crash over the 'd'. I looked at him.

"So?"

"That's a uniquely Merlan way of writing the word," he said. "It's symbolic of the way the ocean is over everything and goes wherever she wants. Not many would know to write it that way."

I blinked. "I'm so glad you're here," I said. I slit the letter open; a single sheet fell out. I couldn't make out the language. It wasn't Merlan.

"Marsh en Era, E shanta ne lanta in penshash?" I said slowly. "What?"

He took the letter.

"It's Shush," he said. "Language of the shephards. Very rarely spoken." He glanced over the lines a few times. "Your family hopes you are well. They have discovered little but believe your guess regarding Rochelle's abilities may be correct and advise you to keep up precautions. Orion says to remember all he has told you, and tells me…" He fell silent, then glanced up. "Wishes me luck and advises I keep meditating."

I had a strange feeling he was lying.

"Anything else?"

"Stay safe and remember to lock your doors."

"Sounds like Lisette."

"It's from all three of them and Orion."

I nodded. Whatever language it was in, and however little they could say, hearing from my family was comforting beyond words. I took a moment to let the peaceful feeling settle in, even if I knew it couldn't last. Then I put a smile on and tore a corner off the pastry.

"So, want some… French… flaky cherry-filled frostingy thing?"

He laughed. It was the first time I'd heard the sound not tinged with some dark irony since we'd arrived.

"Yeah."

A/N: I'm interested to see what ya'll think of this... Not sure how it's coming across. Oh, and I'm not entirely sure where to go from here (have a general idea, but not sure where NEXT... you know how it goes), so ideas/questions are very welcome!

Audra Laudargue: How was this for adventure and romance? I'm really glad you pointing out the housekeeping... I realized after you said that that I'd spent the entire previous chapter detailing pointless stuff when I'm the only one who needs to know where their toothbrushes come from, lol. Thanks for the reminder!

Bingo7: The voices were just whatever the wind was carrying. Should've clarified, sorry about that! Hopefully Eran is less sad in this chapter... at least for now...

Hunchbook: Wow... you read that far, I'm really impressed. Attacking completed stories can be intimidating. Thanks so much! Hoping you're still with me. And thanks for pointing out the typos --- they're a weakness I need to watch!

jinxywinxy: Typing your name is just fun. Sorry, anyway... :p I know exactly what you mean about school... same here... And yeah, they're quite young to be married. But Merlans marry younger, and even in our world, a fair few of my 18- and 19-year-old friends are getting married. (It's weirding me out, for the record.)

KRM-EditorInChief: Yeah, Marina and Eran are going to get... you know. They're going to talk. And... stuff. (Mysterious, is it not? Well, okay, so not really... Teehee.) And I'm loving the quick updating, too... it's fun to get absorbed in a story again! I'm a Professional Writing major... I sold a couple articles last year so I want to either freelance, become a staff writer for a magazine, or do editing in YA Fiction. We'll see how that pans out. Lit sounds like such a fun major, though!

Ally: You get an note on this chapter... the typos have been duly fixed. :D