Chapter Thirty-Nine
The journey home matched exactly what Connor had predicted.
One day down the river, seven across the ocean and then The Tear, shrouded behind its personal, never-ending storm, was on the horizon.
Miles beneath it, sunken to the bottom of the ocean, lay Nick’s heart.
With every mile, the feeling that he was making a colossal mistake worsened.
He kept reminding himself that this time apart was as much for Kit as it was for him, but the image of Kit pacing the dock as they’d pulled away argued persuasively otherwise.
Mini had been there, Nick reminded himself. Waiting patiently.
As Kit paced, upset.
Kit’s whine as Nick boarded the yacht came to him now, a gut punch.
Trevor joined him against the front railing, thankfully drawing him out of his head.
“Connor said it looks good, so we’re going to pass through.
Let’s go below deck and strap in.” The last time they crossed through The Tear, they’d all been above deck, perched next to Connor at the steering wheel, watching as one world became another.
This time, everyone was on edge, being overly cautious about Nick as if he might somehow vanish from the deck if they turned their backs for even a second.
He understood now why Laurence always got so mad at Nick’s worried hovering—it was annoying.
“I want one of those boats with a glass bottom.” Laurence trotted down the steps ahead of them.
“That would be interesting,” Trevor agreed. “It’s hard to get a good look at the mermen swimming from above.”
Nick slid into the nearest seat, strapping himself in. When he was done, he realised that Trevor and Laurence were casting him worried looks.
“What is it?”
“I asked what you want for dinner,” Laurence repeated.
“I’ll be very happy with anything other than fish.”
As it turned out, none of them got to eat for a long while.
Their house in Ireland rested right on the coast; a private dock led to a two-storey work-in-progress that Nick had been helping Trevor get updated.
Their driveway ran a mile through dense woodlands before meeting the main road, making the house a haven of privacy.
Trevor had very intentionally searched until he found a house that Connor would easily be able to access with his boat and mer-boyfriend.
A heavy rain sheeted over the house, grey skies that Nick had sorely missed inviting them all to make a mad dash inside or get soaked.
They were only just closing the back door when a squad car pulled into their driveway and gardai were knocking on their door.
Usually, Nick would be right at his dad’s side, hovering, needing to be aware of exactly what was going on.
Today, he acknowledged that Trevor didn’t need him there to help.
He was capable of explaining why their entire family had vanished for almost two months without a word.
In fact, Nick was happy to slide that responsibility right off his own shoulders because he hadn’t a clue how he’d believably explain that.
Nick went upstairs. He showered, shaved, changed, and then collapsed onto his bed, trying to push aside the pit in his stomach.
Seconds later, he was on his laptop, looking up books on crop rotation, farming, soil restoration and soil health.
Kit had reassured Nick that with the council’s riches, they had enough resources to feed the population of Aridia for years, but he could still try to help with their land problems. He eyed his tattooed arms. By the time Nick was going back, he’d be over the tattoos’ six-month life span.
He wouldn’t have a symbol translating for him anymore.
He added books on learning languages and made a mental note to ask Laurence if he could join in his language lessons.
Downstairs, Laurence bustled around the kitchen.
Nick couldn’t pin down why, but things had been oddly awkward with Laurence in a way they weren’t with Trevor and Connor.
In fact, Nick could hardly believe how easy things were with Connor.
Conversations flowed, sidelong looks were met with understanding, even bad jokes found warm receptions in, if not a laugh, an amused head shake.
With Trevor, a pressure had lifted from Nick’s shoulders, and he’d relaxed into their bond.
The low-level anxiety that hummed in the background, whispering that Nick was somehow disappointing his dad, remained absent the entire trip home.
Laurence, though.
As Laurence rinsed rice in the sink, Nick hugged him from behind, resting his chin on his head, rubbing, before he caught himself and realised he was doing something he’d learned soothed Kit. He stopped the motion but held Laurence close. Laurence set aside the rice and leaned into Nick.
“Are you okay?” Nick checked.
Laurence nodded.
“Okay. Good.” He waited, holding on.
Laurence’s bottom lip trembled in the window reflection.
“I’m sorry I didn’t take you seriously,” Laurence said.
“You were worried and asked what we’d do if something happened, and I wouldn’t even listen to you—and then something did happen, and I couldn’t do anything to help.
I never even showed you a map of where we were.
I didn’t explain anything about currency or social structure. ”
A month ago, Nick would have agreed. He would have doubled down on Laurence’s worries, pointed out how dangerous it was beyond The Tear, and insisted none of them go anywhere near it.
“You know,” Nick said, “if you had turned around and said you wanted to go to England for college, I would have found something about that to be afraid of. I’d be looking up stabbings, pick-pockets, break-ins—anything I could to freak myself out—and then I’d try to dissuade you from going…
I haven’t been in the best headspace, and I’ve been struggling to get my head around you not being a little kid anymore and not needing me the way you used to. ”
Laurence frowned. “We’re only two years apart. When I was a kid, you were a kid.”
“My emotions have a special skill where they’re totally immune to logical arguments,” Nick explained lightly.
“A lot happened last year. Connor joined us, you grew up, and everything changed, but I think I’ve finally caught up with it all.
I’ve lost so many nights of sleep stressing about something bad happening to one of you, and when it happened”—to Nick, so not exactly the worst-case scenario, but still—“rather than the world ending, I met the love of my life. And I’d never have met him if I’d convinced everyone to stay here and never live their lives. ”
“You were kidnapped!”
“So was Connor. Does that mean it’s your turn next?”
Trevor walked in and overheard that last part, and immediately both of his hands shot up. “Laurence, please. Do not get kidnapped. My heart can’t take it.” Trevor joined the hug, arms wrapping around the two of them.
“Gross,” Connor said childishly from the doorway.
Laurence giggled, and Trevor chuckled in a good-natured manner. He pulled back, ruffling Nick’s hair and pressing a kiss to Laurence’s crown. “Both of you go on and sit. I’ll cook.”
Laurence pulled Nick along to the living room without objection, and Connor joined them soon after, leaning over the back of the couch and offering a cup to Nick. “Here.” Vapour curled up from the hot contents, the pleasant aroma making his mouth water.
Nick accepted it, swallowing a gulp of scalding liquid with a delighted groan.
“I bet you missed coffee more than us.” Connor plopped onto the couch on Nick’s far side while Laurence leaned away with a sound of disgust.
“I had withdrawal headaches for weeks,” Nick admitted. He downed the rest of the cup, willingly re-engaging an addiction his body had finally triumphed over. “I just realised I have no idea where my phone is.”
“I plugged it in over there.” Connor gestured across the room. “It was left behind at Vi’s.”
Laurence fetched it for Nick, but when he powered it up, he wished he hadn’t.
His phone pinged continuously as the notifications for hundreds of missed calls and texts pinged in.
“How many people reported us missing to the guards do you think?” he asked, scrolling to the start of the messages.
The earliest came from the assistant manager at the café, asking Nick if Trevor’s phone was broken because she couldn’t get a hold of him. Things quickly spiralled from there.
“The consensus is we died in a boating accident. Sam’s family too; none of them came back while we were looking for you,” Connor explained.
Former classmates, teachers, friends, teammates all flooded his inbox. Nick side-eyed Laurence. “Have fun dealing with that at school tomorrow.”
Laurence scoffed his objection. “I’m not going to school tomorrow. I’m tired. I need to rest. At least…a month.”
“You’ve already missed a month of school, and just before your Leaving Cert too. You’re going.”
“I’m not a kid.” Laurence met Nick’s side-eye head-on, reminding him, pointedly, of the conversation they’d just had.
“That conversation was completely unrelated to this.”
“I think this is exactly what the conversation was about. You agreed not to boss me around anymore, and –”
“I definitely did not agree to that. Besides, Dad’s in the same boat as you, and so am I. I’ve got to get to college and talk to my professors too.” Nick went to stand. Laurence latched on to his arm.
“Okay. Yeah. Fine. I’ll go tomorrow,” Laurence agreed, rushed.
Half out of his seat, Nick looked at Laurence in surprise. He considered the clinging hold Laurence had of his arm and sank back down into the seat. “Do you want to watch a movie?” he asked.
Laurence nodded.
Connor picked out a murder mystery, and Laurence, who had spent the week staring at Nick like he’d vanish the second he looked away, was fast asleep and snoring ten minutes later when Trevor brought in their food. He clung to Nick in his sleep, cheek squeezed to his shoulder.
As they ate, Connor said something. Nick frowned, casting a sideways look at him, and Connor repeated it. The language was unfamiliar, foreign.
“Do you know what I just said?” Connor asked him casually.
“I have no idea,” Nick said. “Is that the language from over there? Why…” He frowned at his arms. The translation symbol looked fine. The ink hadn’t begun to fade yet.
“Just checking if they worked over here,” Connor said with a shrug. “I didn’t think they would. Adonis and Goldilocks can’t use their powers all that well this side of The Tear. I think our world doesn’t like magic.”
That very well might be true. But Nick remembered Sam saying in passing that when Goldilocks was around Connor in this world, he could use his abilities. And even without the symbol translating Connor’s words, it niggled in the back of Nick’s mind.
“Did you ask what time it is?” Nick asked.
Connor looked at him in surprise.
Nick grinned. “I might have cheated with magic, but I bet I still built neural pathways for the language.”
In Kit’s language, Nick said, “Bedtime.”