Chapter 6


"Hey, North—how did you do that?" Cyprus asked as they—or rather, he—walked along, with North swinging on his shoulders. The boy shifted a little to get more comfortable before answering.

"You mean, when I summoned Sadik?"

". . . Yes." Cyprus didn't like mentioning the older nation's name, so he didn't. "Did he teach you how to do it, or . . . ?"

"Kind of." North paused, probably trying to remember. "I found this old book in his library from a long time ago—like a really long time ago. And it had this song in it which he told me could do that. I just sing it in my head, and it works. Most of the time."

Cyprus mulled this over and wondered why he had never asked Greece about things like this. Surely in his youth, in the days of gods and goddesses (who could have been real, despite what people said nowadays, because it was a comfort to think that sometimes)—surely he might have known something like this . . . ? But the thought of Greece was still too raw and painful to deal with at the moment. He pushed it away quickly.

"Does it work for anyone you want?" he asked instead.

"I guess, as long as you change the person's name . . . " North trailed off and Cyprus knew he had guessed his thoughts. "Anyway, I'll tell you if you want."

"Maybe you should write it down instead," Cyprus interjected. They both fell silent, knowing what he meant. This was not the time to face either Turkey or Greece, or else they would have stayed behind.

While they were trekking, the dirt path—more of a way through the park than a true road—had been rather lonely and shadowed by occasional trees along the way. Now the dirt gave way to sand and the two Cypriots found themselves looking out over a calm, quiet expanse of beach, almost glowing in the afternoon light. Azure waves lapped lazily at the sand under the benevolent sun. There were very few here despite the fact that the day was still young, but it didn't matter. It was just the place for the peace and quiet they'd longed for.

On his shoulders North squirmed to be let down, and Cyprus bent to let him clamber onto the sand. His little hand slipped into Cyprus's while they stood gazing out at the scene together.

"It's beautiful," the boy said in wonder.

Cyprus smiled. It was the same thing he'd said when Greece had first taken him here.

"Where's your house?" North asked after a moment.

"Over here. I'll show you."

They went in a westerly direction, Cyprus holding onto North and making sure he didn't trip over any rocks on the ground, their feet making soft prints in the sand. On this side of the beach there was a large outcropping of rocks, rising seemingly out of nowhere, to face the sea beyond.

"The house is up there?"

"Yes."

"Will we have to climb that?" North sounded more curious than bewildered.

Cyprus patted his head. "No, the rocks are just to hide it. No one except me and a few fishermen know it's there." He led North around the rocks. "The way up is near the back."

He was right, of course. The other side of the cliff was also disrupted by sand drifts and more rocks, but Cyprus passed them, stepping over the small bushes in his way, and paused at one of the tallest stones. There was also a bush here, which obscured most of the bottom of the rock. He made sure to cast another look around before examining it. The scene was thankfully deserted, and he was free to brush aside the bush's leaves and branches to reveal a small rectangular shape carved into the stone.

"This is our way in," he said. And as North looked on with interest, he pushed once on the marking.

The low grating noise was barely audible above the steady crashing of the waves in the distance, but Cyprus and North, being close by, could just hear it. Ahead of them, another one of the boulders was trembling a little, and in the center appeared a door-sized shape. That portion of the stone slid down to reveal a dark passageway inside.

Cyprus went first and flipped a switch, turning on a series of electric torches which lined the hallway. He could hear North's tentative footsteps following behind him, and saw the boy pausing to take everything in.

"Brother, you built this so you could hide, didn't you?"

Not really surprised, Cyprus glanced over at him. The Turkish boy's eyes were serious and understanding enough. "Yeah, I suppose. I had it built during the war."

North nodded. "I see."

He seemed a bit preoccupied, but not reluctant to follow, and took Cyprus' hand again. They went on. At the end of the hall was a staircase, which wound upward and ended somewhere they couldn't see. That turned out to be another heavy door, this time with a mark in the stone. Upon seeing the familiar shape again, Cyprus' chest constricted and he reached for his neck.

"Cyprus—are you all right?" North asked in concern.

"Yeah—yes, I'm just fine." Cyprus took a breath and unclasped the gold chain from around his neck. The mere feel of the metal was enough to remind him of that day, many years ago, when he had been no older than North, standing at the end of this very same beach and crying for an older brother not to go.

How he had grown since then.

The necklace and its charm had once filled his entire palm, but now they seemed tiny in his large hand. With care, he pressed the carved dove into its perfectly carved likeness in the wall—and the door, with a grating of hinges, swung slowly inward.

A few makeshift steps took them to the top of the cliff.

"Whoa," said North for both of them.

It had been a long while since Cyprus had seen anything of his old hideout. But it hadn't changed—the cozy white cottage washed even paler by rain and sea winds, surrounded on all sides by verdant bushes and the occasional weeds. Despite its welcoming appearance, it looked starkly out of place in its sandy landscape. But there was enough space for a child to run and play; the edges of the cliff Cyprus had once lined with decently-sized rocks to form an adequate barrier. And the air was free and pure, and the land was their land.

And the Turkish boy, observing all around him with careful eyes, said,

"I think I'll like it here."

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There were exactly four rooms inside—a living room, a kitchen, a bedroom, a bathroom. It was definitely small compared to Cyprus's usual home, but for solitude he liked this arrangement and North seemed to share his opinion. The boy bounded around the sparse furniture and settled in an armchair by the unlit fireplace, turning his head every now and then to look at the old paintings on the walls, the faded wallpaper, the few books on their shelves.

"Do you want food?" Cyprus asked.

"I do . . . You're treating me like a guest!"

"Well, you are," Cyprus chuckled and went into the kitchen. It was thankful he had replenished his food stores last week, but the premonition which had led to that was best forgotten. In a few minutes he had finished and he and North sat around the kitchen table to eat.

"How long will we be staying here?" the boy asked eagerly.

"Probably not very long. But you'll want to go back soon, I'm sure."

"Oh no," said North, "not for a while at least. It's nice here—so quiet and neat. Better than listening to Sadik argue with his neighbors every week."

This surprised Cyprus. "He argues with other people besides . . . Greece?"

"Yeah. Like America. Mostly over the phone, but it gets bad sometimes." North shrugged. "I like Sadik, he's like my father and he helps me a lot . . . but he doesn't let me do much on my own unless he's there too."

It was interesting how different their situations were. Here was Cyprus, longing for something closer with Greece, who had stopped caring . . . and North was trying to get away from the tight hold a caring guardian could have. Given a choice between the two, Cyprus was sure he'd have chosen the latter.

"I don't know what we'll do now," he said, feeling tired. "There'll be searches out after us, I think. Or Greece and Turkey will come looking for us on their own. Either way it won't end well."

"It'll be okay." North reached out and patted his hand. "Don't feel bad, Big Brother. You didn't do anything wrong. Sadik says it's bad to run away from a problem, but sometimes that's the only thing you can do."

Cyprus smiled gratefully at him.

"I guess you're right. We'll wait it out and see what happens."


Okay, finally updated this almost a YEAR later . . . don't know if I should be proud or ashamed of myself. Whoop. This was mostly filler so sorry but there WILL be action and the story should pick up fairly soon. And also this is kind of meant to echo things which have happened in the past/maybe present . . . I don't know how good of a job I did with that. Ah well. Thanks for reading my lovelies.