CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

I knocked on his door. He didn't answer.

"Eran?" I called softly. "Can we talk?"

Nothing for a moment, and then the door opened. His eyes were red but dry, and I felt my heart soften and reach out toward him, as though I could protect him from himself. I knew I couldn't. I knew it wasn't my place. I had to help him but in the end, he had to learn everything on his own, just like I'd had to. The knowledge hurt.

He looked down at me with a hard face. A muscle in his jaw twitched.

"I'm sorry," he said. His voice cracked. I shook my head.

"No," I said. "It's okay."

"I shouldn't have done that," he said stiffly. "Should I?" He looked at me, seeking either of validation or reproach.

"It's not up to me to say," I said. I looked down at the bland carpet beyond his feet and said slowly, "If you felt like it was… if you wanted to do it, then I don't think it was wrong, necessarily."

"It wasn't right, though," he said.

"Maybe not," I said. "I honestly… I don't know."

"I shouldn't treat people I care about like that," he said. He sounded as though he were reciting rules learned a long time ago. I must use my indoor voice. I must remember to leave my shoes at the door when visiting guests. "I shouldn't…" he said, and for a moment the control slipped and he was human and annoyed. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"It's okay," I said again. I took his hand. It was slender but strong, the way it had always been even if everything else might have changed. His fingers curled around mine and squeezed.

I wanted to ask about his comment --- You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that --- but I couldn't bring myself to. This was awkward enough. Anyway, he'd said he felt nothing now. That would have to be enough; I'd have to be content with it.

"Can I come in?" I said. "I want to run something by you."

"Yeah," he said. He dropped my hand and stepped back to let me through. "Of course."

I went in and sat on the floor. So did he. There was furniture there, of course, but neither of us were inclined towards it. I wasn't sure if it was a Merlan thing or just an odd quirk we shared.

"I just talked to Marea," I said. He nodded, lips tightly pursed. "And she said we're on the right track. I don't know what that means, but I think we should keep working at thought speech. I really do think you can get it back."

He looked down at the carpet. "Marina," he said. "I…" He let out a sharp breath. "It makes me so angry, and I can't seem to control it when I'm angry. Not anymore."

"Yeah, I know," I said, in the most gentle, nonjudgmental voice I could muster. "I'm okay with that."

"I don't know if I am."

"Well, there's only one way to find out." He didn't look convinced. I continued, "Here, think of it this way. You can be angry and stuck forever, or you can take a step forward and see what happens. Call me crazy but..." I trailed off, leaving him to finish the sentence himself.

"I can see how it would be to you," he said. I put a hand on his knee. He was sitting cross-legged in front of me, and it seemed the simplest way to force a connection, if he wouldn't look my way.

"Come on," I said. "Give it a try? For me?"

"I've done enough for you," he muttered, but I could see a smile at the corner of his mouth, and he looked up at me under the long lashes in a way that suggested he thought he was getting away with something. I grinned. It was good to see him smiling at all.

"I know that, too," I said. "But why stop now? Come on. Please?"

"All right," he said after a moment. "But I might fly at you and yell at you and completely shut down and… and any number of things."

"I'll risk it."

"Right," he said. "Right." He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, then straightened his shoulders and finally met my eyes. "Where do we start?"

"I have no idea," I said. "Where you started with me, I guess."

And so we did. We sat there on the floor, and I tried to convey simple images to him. Nothing happened for an hour, but I insisted on continuing for as long as he could make himself sit still. Give the deep training in quiet stillness that was still very much a part of him, it seemed we could be there for a while.

Raindrop,

I thought, picturing a droplet of water, blue and cartoonish, while I chanted the word in my head. I wanted to keep it simple. Raindrop. Raindrop. Raindrop. He fidgeted, eyes closed so firmly there was hint of a squint about them. One of his hands rested on his knee and I placed my own hand over it. His eyes flew open.

"Raindrop," he said. I squealed. I couldn't help it.

"Yes!" I said. "Yes! How did you know? It worked?"

"I don't know how I knew," he said. "I didn't hear anything, but I just knew what you were thinking."

This was a huge, huge leap forward. My grin felt like it was going to split my face in two.

"Did you get an image or anything?" I said.

"Not really," he said. "Blue. Really bright blue."

The grin, if it were possible, grew.

"Okay," I said. "Try this one." Flower. Flower. Flower.

But it seemed that raindrop was all we were getting for the day. Eran had blocked off. I could feel the wall back in place, and it wouldn't let down for me. We gave up after another hour; he was getting agitated, like a small child tired of its lessons. Still, I wasn't discouraged. He had known. It was hope.

*****

"Have any of your gifts come out?" Eran asked. I twisted around to look down at him. It was no easy feat; I was standing on a chair to change a light bulb, and he was below me. He'd just come back from a walk by the sea. He often walked there in an attempt to reconnect with Marea. I was never sure what mood he'd come home in. His voice now was thoughtful but friendly, the kind of voice you use for conversation, not confrontation.

"My what?"

"Your gifts."

"Oh," I said. My arms gave a mild twinge of protest, and I finished screwing in the bulb and turned around before answering him. "No. Not that I can tell. Nereida hinted they'd come out with guidance but I don't have a whole lot of that here."

He held out a hand. I took it and jumped down from the chair with rather less grace than I'd intended. The sound probably gave the downstairs neighbors a scare. I didn't care; I'd had enough of their midnight movies, so they could deal with it.

"Thanks," I said.

"You're welcome. So, nothing?"

"Not that I can think of. I don't know. I haven't been working much on magic lately."

"Been too busy working on me."

I shrugged. "You're more important."

"Not really." He frowned. "Do you think I could help you with it?"

"I dunno," I said. I picked up the chair, but he took it from me and put it back under the table. "Do you think you could?"

"Maybe," he said. "I'm sort of useless right now but I know things about the discovery process and the magic that helps gifts manifest."

This much was true. I hadn't given more than a few minutes' thought to my gifts, whatever they were, since my birthday. The night in the garden and everything following had wiped all but our safety and Eran's condition from my mind. Every time the idea of working on my own magic had risen up, I'd dismissed it, reminding myself sternly that I was here to help him. Now, though, if he was offering to help me… Well, I couldn't deny I was a little bit curious. All right, maybe a lot.

"Well," I said, "what do you know about them?" I perched on the edge of the couch. He settled on the floor, cross-legged.

"They begin to unfold on your eighteenth birthday. Usually you go through all kinds of lessons with masters, dabbling in different kinds of magic, and then at some point you're supposed to be some kind of prodigy in a field. Ryne would have been okay at everything but then dazzled his flight instructor or art tutor." He tilted his head a little. "I imagine the art gift would have taken a while to figure out. It's definitely unique."

"So they can be unique? They're not, I mean… they don't just come in a handful of flavors?"

"Flavors?" he said, amused, one eyebrow raised. "No."

"So how can you help me?"

"I can teach you things. Guide you through certain kinds of magics. I'm not a master by any means, but I know the theory. It probably won't be as clear, but I might be able to at least turn you in the right direction. You're going to be so far behind by the time we get back to Merlana."

This was the first time he had mentioned the possibility that we might go back, without adding some bitter comment about the unlikelihood of that or about how maybe someone there could "fix" him, if such a thing were possible at all. It made my mood, already genial, lighten by several shades.

"That's okay," I said. "I don't mind; it'll give me an excuse if I turn out to be a really slow student."

He grinned, and opened his mouth, but I cut him off, "You say that I'm already a slow student and I'm going to kick you. I could just about reach your head from here."

He laughed, and I slid down onto the floor next to him. "Okay, what first?"

"Eager little bird."

"Enjoy it while you can."

And with that, we set to work.

It was the happiest, most productive time we'd had since we'd arrived on the shores of the US of A. It felt so good to have both of us working, not just for his benefit or my benefit but both of ours. He led me through all sorts of strange exercises conducted mostly from memory. We tried flying first.

"Jump," he said once we were in a secluded area in the forest of Cape Elizabeth. We were standing some feet down the small slope from the old ruin of a house that had always reminded me of Cair Paravel. I looked at him.

"That's it?"

"Yes, that's it."

I frowned and furrowed my brow at him, in a "What the heck?" expression, but he just gestured impatiently. I jumped. Nothing happened. He sighed.

"Well, it didn't hurt to try. Come on."

I fell into step beside him as he headed back to the car.

"That was it?"

"Yes," he said. "These tests aren't complicated."

"We came all the way to Cape Elizabeth for that?"

"What do you mean, 'all the way?' It's five minutes. I wanted somewhere secluded where earth and sea were a big presence."

"Still."

We got back to the car and I was silent, more as a matter of principle than because of any actual annoyance. He laughed.

"You don't get mad at me when I wig out on you but you're mad because you can't fly?"

I turned to face him.

"'Wig out?' Where'd you hear that?"

"You used it the other day about that 'cat lady' yelling at the paperboy the other morning."

I remembered. He'd put her paper in the wrong spot or something --- it was hard to decipher details --- and she'd been up early and screamed a long tirade at him. I'd gone outside to see what the matter was and had seen only her, holding a disgruntled-looking tabby in one arm, and hollering about proper respect for one's elders to a frightened looking kid just under puberty. The recollection broke the mood.

"'Wig out," huh?" I said.

"What?" he said. "You used it. I like it. 'Wig out.' Says just what it needs to."

"I see," I said. "Anyway, I'm not mad at you, I just thought it'd be more impressive than that. Wasn't there a spell or something we could have tried?"

"Not that I know of. But if you really think you've got that gift, we can go talk to Ryne when we get back."

There it was again. When we get back. I glanced over at him, trying to be discreet about it. He leaned back against the chair, a small smile on his lips, looking out the window. He felt my gaze and looked over.

"What?"

I smiled. "Nothing."

*****************************

A/N: Who's a prompt authoress? *beams* That's right, my friends. An update, in a reasonable amount of time. Booyah. :D Also, I just made, like, a gagillion chocolate chip cookies, so you should all have some just for being so awesome. *passes plate around*

Bingo7: I KNOW. I feel bad for him, too. I'm really glad we're both feeling the same way, lol.

Allyp: All the Maine stuff you sent totally gets me in the mood to write this… Someday I should come up and we should wander Portland and geek out over it, lol. And yes, they are bonded. Which is Significant. Mwaha. Yes, scullery maid artillery… should get back to that one…

InChrist-Billios: I know… isn't it great? I think they should definitely kiss more. *is thoughtful* Hehe.

Caoimhe: Nope, haven't given up and don't plan to. I love this fic WAY too much. :D

KRM-EditorInChief: Lol! Yeah, life gets crazy. But we do eventually make time for the things that really matter… like writing! (And yes, I am totally serious about that, lol.)

Hunchbook: Yay! I'm glad it's not cliché. I too have MAJOR issues with romance --- I work at a library and if I see ONE more copy of "The Highlander's Forbidden Pleasure" I am going to chuck it into the goldfish pond --- so they're not going to reach happily ever after quite that easily.

Gratifying. Heartbreak.: Lol, tell me about it. Here's your update! J

sentimental sweet nothings: Thanks! Good luck on your fic! J