While Anah worked on preparing the antivenom potions, Moffitt returned to Waimarie's recovery tank in order to keep talking to her about her home islands. It at least distracted her from the topic of her eggs, though Moffitt knew from experience with grief that distraction was temporary. Eventually, it would have to be addressed. For now, he focused on learning about her home. He wrote down notes, asked the sea krait to describe things in detail, and then took his findings to Millington and Conwyn.

After the three men discussed what Moffitt had learned, Conwyn was the first to speak. "I may have an idea of where this place is." He took a rolled-up map out from a cubby in his desk, and laid it as flat as he possibly could. "South of New Caledonia, there are a number of uncharted and unexplored islands. Aerial and satellite images have shown the presence of volcanoes on several of them." He gestured to a cluster of islands, one large, three small, and a smaller island several inches east. "These islands match Waimarie's descriptions. At least, I think they do. It would not surprise me if explorers shied away from them because of the large number of sea kraits that inhabit them. Even the ancient Polynesians possibly stayed away because of them."

"If these islands are uninhabited, they're probably poorly studied," Moffitt said.

"Most likely. I can search for any literature or papers on them. That will hopefully give us some more clues, and time for Waimarie to continue healing."

"At least she will not be completely alone for her stay on the volcanic island," Millington added. "She will have her remaining eggs, and depending on when we clear her, it won't be too long before they hatch."

Moffitt nodded in agreement. "So, what's next?"

"I will do a search around the university for information on these islands," Conwyn said. "When I find something, I will call Millington first. I don't want to keep pulling you away from your son."

"Oh, don't worry about that. He's made some friends that are keeping him occupied. Besides, the whole reason I came here to New Zealand was to help this krait, so that's what I'm going to do."

The geography side of things was left to Conwyn and Millington. Moffitt tried to stop his mind from wandering to his brother, who had been trying to earn his degree in geography and cartography at Cambridge. Michael had put his degree on hold when the war started, intending on finishing it afterward. That never happened.

Moffitt went back to Waimarie's tank, seeing the sea krait laying on the raised platform above the water. The only movement from her was from her eyes, looking up at Moffitt as he took a chair to sit by the tank.

"You seem sad," she said.

"A bit. We are working to find your islands, but it is a field of study that my… my brother was interested in. He's been dead for a long time."

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I was wondering how you're doing."

There was a long silence from Waimarie. She dropped eye contact with Moffitt. "I suppose I'm doing as well as I can be. Having five surviving eggs is better than none. One of my sisters had a clutch of only four last season. No duds. She just naturally produced four."

"Being upset about this is natural as well. You had no way of knowing what was wrong."

"No, I knew something was wrong, but I didn't think anything could be done about it. Up until I started having dreams about you. Then, it was all a matter of finding you, and learning whether or not you existed. You certainly seemed to be something mythical in origin."

Moffitt shook his head. "I possess an extremely rare set of abilities, but it was something I was born with, can't change, and I have no desire to be treated like a mythical figure."

"It is still amazing to me that someone like you exists."

"Don't think I haven't thought the same thing sometimes." Moffitt looked at the floor. "I'd be a mess if something happened to Jules. I can't imagine how you feel right now—well, I suppose I can a little. My wife has become fearful of something happening to Jules ever since his prophecy."

"Anah mentioned that to me. The prophecy, I mean. I can't say I blame your mate for being afraid. My own mother was fearful of the great storms. She lived through one when she was young. It nearly took her father while he was out at sea, hunting. Since then, she developed a habit of taking shelter whenever the clouds threatened rain. She always warned us about them. As it turned out… she had every right to be afraid. Look what happened to me. She will be quite upset when I return."

"Are you sure she won't be relieved that you're alive?"

"It's difficult to say. We all hatch with the capability of functioning on our own right away, but I fear she will try to get me to adopt her habits and not stray too far from home so this doesn't happen again."

"I take it you are close with her?"

"For now. You may be right. It has been such a long time, that the others in my colony probably think I'm dead. She might simply be happy that I will return alive. Better yet, I will return with young. At the end of the day, we will continue to thrive."

"Yes. Don't forget to take care of yourself in the process. I'm here to listen."

"I'm not sure… what more can be said. They… They're not coming back."

Moffitt didn't have to ask to figure out Waimarie was talking about her lost eggs. He nodded in silent agreement, knowing the same could be said about Michael. Neither were coming back. They just weren't.

Jules said nothing and distracted himself with the view while flying with Zeph to Sunset Beach. Given what had happened earlier, he was a little worried about how Zeph's mood was going to change, but over the last few days, he had learned that surfing was Zeph's way of clearing his head. Things would be alright fairly soon.

When they landed, Zeph untied the surfboards, took his shirt and sunglasses off, and picked up his board before heading out to the water. He said nothing to Jules the whole time, leaving Jules to wonder what the right thing to do was. With a shrug, Jules picked up his own surfboard after dropping his shirt by Zeph's and jogged out to the water. He remained flat on his board while Zeph took the first oncoming wave, then got up to catch the next one. He felt confident enough to try fancier maneuvers, and tried copying some of the moves Zeph had been doing. His first attempt ended in failure, but unlike a few days prior, Jules didn't give up. He simply got back on his board to try again.

For the duration of their session, Jules noticed Zeph took the bigger waves and had Jules take the smaller ones. On one hand, Jules wanted to learn how to take on bigger waves, but he knew this was a bit of a de-stressor for Zeph, and decided not to say something this time.

Jules also tired out more easily, while Zeph kept going, testing out different moves with each wave. He landed most, but had a handful of wipeouts. While Jules sat on the beach to air-dry, he wondered just how long Zeph could surf. As he pondered asking, he saw Zeph leaving the water.

The young warlock looked much calmer than earlier. He set his board next to Jules's, and sat in the sand. "Right. So… first off, I'm sorry about getting angry at your old man."

"Apology accepted," Jules said.

"Second, I know I'd been telling him yesterday to think more about his successes than his failures, and to learn from his mistakes without putting himself down." Zeph looked down at the sand while sighing. "It's easy to say that to someone, but it's hard to apply that to yourself. I am not convinced I can help anyone else the way I did you. I'm a bit too gruff. You know that. Yes, for me, surfing helps me relax. I can channel my energy into something productive that isn't going to hurt someone."

"I think that's what Dad's trying to do—find something that allows you to keep doing what you love."

"I know. I-I know that's what he's trying to do. I see his point, but I just don't know if it's the answer. Putting someone's recovery in my hands seems too risky. The last thing I want is for someone to throw themselves off a cliff or a building because of me."

"At least you care. Sure, you're a bit gruff, but you do care."

"It's not a risk I want to take." Zeph was quiet for a while, looking out at the water. "I've been there. I don't want to put anyone else through that. After my parents kicked me out, I had days where… I really wondered what good I was to anyone. I had nothing to offer. There's nothing I do that anyone wants." He glanced at Jules. "I probably shouldn't be telling you this."

"No, it's okay. Dietrich… Dietrich actually tried… you know… taking his own life, a long time ago. I found that out after I learned about my prophecy."

Zeph remained quiet once more. "He actually tried?"

"Yeah. If you ever meet him, you might notice he's got scars on both wrists."

Another long moment of silence. Zeph looked like he was holding back tears. His shoulders slumped. "My first night with Lysander, I was not in a good place, mentally. I didn't sleep. I was going back and forth with myself about… what I was going to do. I know his dad was okay with me flatting with him. I was already employed on the ranch. As far as what was next?" Zeph shook his head. "I started thinking the only thing I'd be good for is pushing up daisies."

"Did you talk to Lysander about this?"

"No. Not sure why. I know now that it probably wasn't a good idea, but I thought I had to fix it on my own. Something was telling me, 'No, you deserve to live. Keep going.' I didn't want to listen to that voice, but it was persistent. Stayed up the whole night, wondering why everything had gone wrong at once. Eventually, I decided I couldn't bear it anymore, and decided to get my board and fly out here. It was close to five in the morning, and still a bit dark, but I went out anyway. I wasn't going to stop until my body said so. Lysander came a little later, and asked what I was doing. I was mostly honest, because I didn't want him worried and I didn't want him to stop me."

"I can't imagine it's healthy to do that."

"It's not. I surfed from sunup to sundown, without stopping, because it was the only thing keeping me from calling it quits. I fell in love with it when I was a kid for a reason. I'm convinced of that. It probably saved my life, ridiculous as that might sound." Zeph let out his breath. His eyes were red and wet, but he wasn't sobbing. "I took you out here on a whim, and I feel really bloody lucky that it worked. That's all it was, though. A whim and luck. I can't do that for strangers, and I don't want to be responsible if I fail, they don't want to continue learning, and it… pushes them down a dark path I can't pull them from."

"I can see why you don't think it could work," Jules said. "I'm really sorry you went through that."

"It's alright. I don't feel that way anymore. I do still feel clueless. Even if I do every surfing tournament I'm eligible for, I'm still relying on luck, and I can't do that anymore, not if I want my own place. Your dad's heart is in the right place. I just don't know if what he suggested is the best path forward."

"Would you at least try?"

"No. Like I said, the risk is too high for something going wrong."

"But you wouldn't let something go wrong, would you?"

"No, of course not, but there's only so much I can do. Look, I'll apologize to your dad, but I'm not convinced his idea will work."

Jules couldn't think of anything to say that would get Zeph to change his mind. He kept quiet until Zeph stood to put his shirt back on and tie the surfboards to his broom. "Are we going home?"

"Yeah. Why?" Zeph asked.

"We're not getting something to eat?"

"Hey, you wanna run up to the dairy and get something, go ahead. I'm not hungry."

Jules decided he wouldn't make Zeph wait, and sat patiently until Zeph was ready to leave. They flew back to the house, not making any conversation, though Jules was thinking throughout the flight that he wasn't entirely surprised by Zeph's story. It was sad, yes, but it made sense to Jules. He just wasn't sure if he should bring it up with his father, or if Zeph was already planning on doing so.

They returned to find Lysander was back from the hospital, sitting on the couch with a brace on his knee and a pair of crutches next to him. He looked over at Jules and Zeph as they came in. "I see we're acting civil," he said.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything's fine," Zeph muttered. "What happened at the hospital?"

"Not much, actually. They took some X-rays, asked how much pain I was in. Since the potions have already done a good job with healing everything, they just gave me the brace and the crutches to keep me from moving my knee over the next month."

"At least it's only a month," Jules said. "When I broke my arm, I was stuck in a sling for six weeks. Couldn't ride horses the whole time."

"I'd rather have broken my arm," Lysander said. "At least I'd still be able to walk."

"Good point."

"Not riding horses won't be fun, though. I can't even do what I'm supposed to be doing." Lysander looked at Zeph. "That means you need to be up early for the next month."

"That wasn't supposed to happen until you went back to Auckland," Zeph muttered.

"Well, you're getting an early start."

"Yeah. Can you see how happy that makes me?"

"You'll have Jules and his old man helping you."

Jules sighed. "I'm not sure Dad will like being referred to as 'old.'"

"It's a saying, mate."

Zeph had gone into the bathroom to change into a clean pair of shorts, and emerged a minute later. "This also means I'll be all by myself at the beach."

"You spend more time alone at the beach anyway," Lysander said. "Just don't forget to get stuff done here first."

"I know. You don't have to tell me twice."

"Sometimes you need a reminder."

"Maybe I want you to stop reminding me because it drives me crazy."

"It's like Mum and the laundry," Jules said. "I know it's there. I'm going to get it done. Stop reminding me, especially when you just did five minutes ago."

"Oh, Zeph definitely needs to be reminded about laundry," Lysander said. "I'm tired of finding your shirts all over the place. Put them in the bloody hamper."

"Sometimes I decide to wear it again later," Zeph argued, opening the refrigerator.

"Then put it somewhere else, mate! I don't want to keep finding them draped on every chair and table in the house."

Zeph gave an exasperated sigh while entering the living room, and roughly tousled Lysander's blond hair before sitting next to him. "Are we mates or are you my mum?"

"Sometimes it feels like I have to be. Either wear a shirt or don't."

"I'd never be allowed to go around the house shirtless," Jules said. "That and it's a bit too cold most of the year for that."

Lysander shrugged. "I don't care if you go shirtless around here. At least keep a pair of shorts on, that's all."

"Yeah. That," Zeph added.

They all turned when the door opened and Moffitt entered with Anah around his shoulders. "Hello," he said. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No, sir," Lysander replied.

"I see you finally got crutches."

"Yeah, my dad took me up to the hospital for a quick look."

"Ah. What did they say?"

"They gave me a brace, crutches, and told me to stay off it for a month."

"Good. Then you'll do just that." Moffitt's smile faded when he looked at his son. "Jules, could you come outside a moment so we can talk in private?"

A nervous feeling flooded Jules as he stood and followed his father outside. "Is something wrong?" he asked after closing the door behind him.

"No, nothing's wrong," Moffitt said. "I just wanted to let you know that we've found a solution for the sea krait. Millington and Conwyn are currently talking with several other departments at the university about finding her home islands. We have a location that we're going to send her and her eggs, but we just need to figure out if it's safe."

"Okay. So… what does that mean for us?"

"It means we're going to be leaving in a week. Millington is estimating that it will be about one month until Waimarie's medications are finished, and two months until her stitches can be removed. Then she will be sent to an isolated island to continue recuperating and take care of her eggs. I've already said that we're not staying that long."

Jules's heart sank. "Okay. I wish we could stay longer."

"I had a feeling you were going to say that. Unfortunately, no. You do still have schooling to continue, and I miss your mother and Livna and our own horses." Moffitt sighed. "Be prepared for your grandfather to ask a lot of questions about what New Zealand is like when we return."

"I don't even think we should tell him we're home until we recover from our flight."

"Good idea. Oh, I'm not looking forward to that."

Jules smirked and snorted. "What, Grandpa or the return flight?"

"Both. Don't tell your grandfather I said that."

"I won't. I'll probably forget." Jules looked at the pavement. "I know it'll be a week, but I don't… feel ready. I'm going to miss this place, and Lysander and Zeph most of all."

"Believe me, it was difficult to make that decision, but we do have a home to go back to. That's not to say we'll never come back, though. I do want to take your mother here someday, and I'd be more than happy to drop you off here while she and I enjoy a few romantic days elsewhere. It would also be wise to give Lysander and Zeph time to be a bit more independent. Lysander's time in university isn't going to get easier as he goes on. However, I would strongly advise staying in contact, because having someone listening, even if it's through a letter, will mean a lot when things get difficult."

Jules nodded.

"And then there's Zeph." Moffitt let out his breath as he spoke.

"I did talk with him a bit about what happened, and his reasoning… makes a lot of sense. I just don't know if there's a way to convince him what you suggested in a good idea. Or if it even is a good idea." Jules paused. "It might be best that you talk to him."

"That sounds fair."

"You're not angry, are you?"

"No." Moffitt gave him a confused look. "Why would I be?"

"Because even I'm not sure if what you suggested to Zeph is a good idea."

"Why would I be angry over that? You don't have to agree with everything I say. We've all taught you how to think critically and creatively."

"I know, but you're trying to help—"

"What I suggested isn't going to be the end-all-be-all for Zeph. If it doesn't seem like a good idea, that's alright. We'll figure something else out." Moffitt looked at his watch. "Alright, well, it's long past time for lunch, so we can discuss this a little later."

Jules's stomach growled in agreement, but his mind was still fixed on the fact that after this week was over, there was no way of knowing when he would next see Lysander and Zeph. He was still surprised that he had managed to make any friends in the first place, but he wished he hadn't had to travel halfway around the globe to do so.

Moffitt noticed Zeph looking at him with a somewhat ashamed expression the whole time that the group was having lunch. Zeph didn't say anything until the dishes were cleared away, asking quietly if he and Moffitt could talk somewhere alone. They went outside, and began walking along the outside of the fence of the largest field. Even with his scarf on, Moffitt's neck felt a bit bare without Anah whenever a gentle breeze passed through.

"I wanted to apologize for what I said earlier," Zeph said. "You know, for just dismissing you outright."

"It wouldn't be the first time that's happened," Moffitt replied. "Jules mentioned that you explained your reasoning. He wouldn't tell me what that reasoning is, other than he felt it made sense."

"Honestly, I'm a bit surprised he didn't tell you everything, with how much he trusts you."

"He trusts me, but that doesn't mean he'll disrespect you or anyone else who discusses something sensitive with him, unless it's something that he feels you need immediate help with."

Zeph nodded a little. When they came to a section of fence furthest from any buildings on the property, Zeph stopped walking, and leaned against the fence itself. He looked down at the grass, which was quite long as the horses didn't seem to venture down to that area very often. He let out his breath, muttering, "I don't think I can help anyone. I got lucky with helping Jules. That's all that was. I had that little shred of confidence saying that I wasn't going to muck things up with him. With other people—strangers—I can't do it. Helping people learn to surf is one thing. Helping people with trauma in their past use surfing to start overcoming it is another. I don't want to run the risk of mucking up and suddenly I'm the reason they threw themselves off a cliff. I mean, I've been there… I know what it's like to feel… that hopeless."

"May I say something?"

"Sure."

"Many people who've been through that do their best to prevent others from walking down that same road."

"I know, but I feel like I'm one of those who can't do their best to prevent that from happening. My way of dealing with it wasn't healthy. I stayed up all night, feeling like I wasn't worth anything, and early in the morning, I decided I was going to surf until I couldn't anymore. I went out to the beach and did just that, even when Lysander came to see what I was doing."

"Did he know about what you were feeling?"

"No. I didn't want him getting worried."

"Ah. He did tell me a few days ago that you were out surfing from morning to evening the day after your parents kicked you out. I had a feeling there was a bit more to that."

Zeph kept looking down at the grass. "Yeah. I went until I couldn't anymore, and let Lysander take me back. Something told me to stop worrying and not think like that anymore. It creeps back occasionally, but I keep going. Sometimes I wonder how long I can keep going." He shook his head. "How am I supposed to help someone else when I don't even feel like I can help myself sometimes?"

Moffitt looked out over the field, a breeze gently ruffling his dark hair. "What was it you were telling me yesterday? To tell the voice in your own head that keeps putting you down to shut up?"

"Yeah. That's easy to tell other people. Not so easy to tell yourself."

"I won't disagree with you there. I will admit, it's quite rare for me to be the one giving advice that I can't seem to apply to myself, but I've seen it happen with others." Moffitt glanced at Zeph, then resumed looking at the field, hoping he was expressing himself well. "You remind me a lot of some of my friends. Granted, you're a bit more blunt and you don't hesitate to tell people the harshest truth about themselves. With me, it was that I still have a ways to go when it comes to not putting myself down all the time. With Jules, it was that he can't give up if he wants to face his fears or achieve a goal that seems too daunting for him. Some people do need to hear things like that. It's the only way that gets them to reflect on things and make them start to change. With others, it's not what they need. Everyone's different in how they handle and process things they went through, and it's difficult to know what they need to hear. I am curious, though… what would you have wanted if someone knew what you were going through after you were kicked out of your own home?"

Zeph shrugged. "At the time, I was a bit too messed up to really think about that. I just wanted a solution. In a way, I still just want a solution."

More and more, Moffitt was beginning to think that Zeph really needed someone like Dietrich, but Dietrich wasn't there. I don't know what to do, Moffitt thought. I really don't know what to do. There was a part of him that wanted to sink into old habits, to blame himself and feel as though he and he alone failed Zeph. Instead, he took a breath, and looked at Zeph. "Well, I gave you a potential solution, and there's no one standing in your own bloody way but you. You're letting your own fears hold you back, and you're being far too stubborn for your own good. Do you want to keep being angry, or do you want to find your place and purpose and be happy? Maybe what I suggested isn't the path for you, but damn it, all this is doing is showing me that you need to take a good long look in the bloody mirror and think about what you need to change."

Almost immediately, Moffitt regretted saying that. He typically wasn't the one to be harsh with anyone. His expression turned to one of shame and embarrassment, though there was a part of him fighting it. You said what needed to be said, he thought.

Zeph was silent for a while. Moffitt expected him to lash out, but he did nothing. Eventually, Zeph let out his breath. "So, all along, I needed someone to be brutally honest with me." He looked at Moffitt. "And you normally aren't the type to do that."

"No. I feel terrible."

"Can I be honest?"

"Yes."

"For a second, I wanted to punch you. Then I thought about it. You're right. I'm spending too much time being stubborn and angry."

Moffitt relaxed a little. "If I may be honest as well, I said all that partly out of frustration. I'm at a loss of what else I can suggest for you. I've tried my hardest to not be like my own father with Jules. My family has a two-hundred-year tradition of attending Cambridge. That was what every child had to strive for. There were no other paths we were allowed to take. My father had taken it one step further and ended up working at the university, which only made the pressure for me to do well much worse. Things are better now, between us, but for a while, they weren't. I swore I'd never treat my own child like that. When Jules was born, I declared that I wasn't going to force him into attending the university. He could if he wanted to, but I wasn't going to make that his only path in life. As a result, I don't push him very much. He knows discipline, but it's not because I've gone out of my way to make him afraid of me."

"I would assume someone would have to be fairly well-disciplined to be a good horse rider," Zeph said.

"That is true. I've seen some very spoiled brats on horses and it sickens me." A smirk crossed Moffitt's face. "I once couldn't help myself laughing at this girl about Jules's age a few years ago, who was at the farm I get my horses from, and clearly knew nothing about riding. The horse was clearly chosen for looks—a very lovely white Arabian. Now, this Arabian also happened to be a mare, and mares are typically very strong-willed. On top of being an Arabian, a breed that is naturally quite sensitive and intelligent, that's a bad combination—well, a great combination in the hands of a good rider. This girl was not a good rider. She was getting very frustrated with this horse and wasn't listening to the instructor. Finally, the mare bucked her off and trotted away, looking quite proud of herself. I was laughing, and a few people with me were laughing, too. Oh, dear. I went home, told my wife, and she said, 'That girl could've gotten hurt!' I said, 'She needs to learn a lesson somehow!'"

Zeph smirked as well. "I'd be laughing with you. We've had some real idiots come through looking to get horses from us. Lysander doesn't mind working with genuine novices looking to learn. It's the ones who think they know everything and don't have the patience to learn that drive him bonkers. The horses know it, too."

Moffitt thought for a moment. "You do know how to ride, right?"

"I can if I have to. I'm no expert."

"Would you be willing to learn a little more?"

"What are you getting at?"

"I imagine it takes a great deal of discipline to become a good surfer."

"Yeah."

"A surfboard isn't a living thing. Working with a living thing takes a great deal more discipline. You can't control a horse the way you can a surfboard. You have to learn to work with the horse. If you act stubborn with a horse, the horse will act stubborn back. At the same time, you must have a firm but gentle hand. Be in charge, but not domineering."

"You think this'll help with being less stubborn."

"Less stubborn and less angry. Controlling your emotions with a horse is important, because they will react to what you're feeling."

Zeph nodded a little. "Okay. I see your point. I'll… give it a try." He bit his lip. "Will you help me?"

"Of course. I only have about a week left until Jules, Anah, and I return to England, but I'd be happy to teach you what I know until then."

Zeph was still looking down at the ground, but it was fairly easy to see the genuine smile on his face, and that gave Moffitt a sense of hope that things were going to change for the better in time.