Chapter 33
In Which I Have Grown Accustomed to the Idea that I Spent a Full Day Dead.
In Which I Am No Longer Frightened by It, and No Longer Desperately Trying to Remember if There Had Been Anything Beyond the Nothingness.
In Which, Thinking Further upon the Matter, Perhaps It Still Does Affect Me, and Perhaps I Could Use a Bit of Peaceful Contemplation without Any Further Stresses for a Time.
In Which I Have a Brilliant Idea for How to Secure This Peace.
When he found me in the inn bedroom, Merulo’s face was white with fury. “You!”
“Me?” I said, in panicked surprise. “You can’t be angry with me today. It’s my birthday.”
He paused, anger giving way to bewilderment. “Is it?”
“Uh, well, I was born the day after the summer solstice, so . . .”
There was silence as we both tried to work out the date. Time moved differently underwater, without weather or input from the seasons. “The summer solstice passed well before we left,” he cried at last. “It is not your birthday.”
“Then my birthday passed by and we never even celebrated, which is even worse. I feel just awful about that.” And I tried to rearrange my features into appropriate mournfulness.
It didn’t work. The lines on his forehead twitched, before sloping into Vs. “Enough of this nonsense. Did you or did you not tell my sister that I sought to beg her forgiveness, but was too”—his face contorted, and I winced in anticipation—“emotionally incompetent, to do so in person?”
“I didn’t say that!” I protested.
“You didn’t say, and I quote, that ‘my loneliness eats at me like a cancer, but that my only method of coping is to shove my head further up my ass, so as to huff my own fumes’?”
“What’s a cancer?” I asked. His glower deepened, and I quickly amended, “No, I never said any of that! Only that—”
“So, you did say something, then? Out with it!”
“That I wished you two would get along better,” I finished miserably, “and that I wanted Hydna to make more of an effort.”
He maintained his suspicious glare. “And you didn’t use any of that . . . ‘colourful’ language?”
“Of course not. Merulo, you know how highly I think of you.” I grimaced. “I mean, I didn’t at first, so I understand the confusion, but back at the start you didn’t like me much either.”
“And who’s to say I like you now?” The sorcerer sneered.
I bit back laughter. He looked constipated with pride, drawing himself up tall in his patched black robes, but by now I knew that the more frozen he appeared, the more flustered he was beneath the surface.
“I suppose that’s why you used up all your magic on my resurrection,” I said, trying to keep my mocking gentle. “Because you dislike me so much.”
He quivered, before turning with a sweep of his robe. “I have matters to attend to,” he said, though he did not leave. Then, in as lethal a spit as he could manage: “Of course I don’t dislike you.”
I tried not to cackle as he marched from the room.
For the rest of the day—which I spent going door-to-door in the inn, investigating the decay of the uninhabited spaces, before washing all the filth from my body in our room’s luxurious bath—I felt a buoyant warmth.
“He must like me quite a bit,” I said to myself, sinking into the tub of water, which filled from a streaming spout at its end.
“I may also like him quite a bit,” I added, then clenched my hands in embarrassment, sinking beneath the water’s surface. “I do. I even told Glenda so.”
And did you mean it? asked a tiny voice in my head. Or were you caught up in the emotions of ‘Oh God, oh no, I’m about to die?’
“Well, why shouldn’t I mean it? He’s an impressive guy! All powerful and magical, and cool, too, in a scary sort of way. And he pays me special attention.”
That isn’t enough.
“Okay.” I slapped at the water’s surface to create miniature waves. “He’s alone like I am. There, are you happy?”
Nope.
“Damn, then what are the reasons to love someone?” I sank my head beneath the water’s surface, feeling my hair float about me.
When I sat back up, the water drained from my face in rivulets, my tension leaving with it.
“Okay. Here goes. There’s something that connects us, and it goes deeper than that stupid prophecy, like we’re both .
. . more than we would otherwise be, so long as we’re together.
I mean, I full on died for him. And dying’s a big deal for me. That’s enough, isn’t it?”
For once, the voice was silent. Then: That’s true, it said, astonished. Dying is an especially big deal for you.
“You see?” I flicked the water’s surface, trying to keep the smugness out of my voice. “I meant what I said.”
Feeling as though I’d earned it with this revelation, I reclined further, closing my eyes against the bath’s warmth, and letting myself thoroughly prune.
“Cameron!” came a shout from outside the bathroom door.
I flinched, wondering in sudden guilt whether I should’ve been rationing the water. “I’m indisposed!” My voice echoed slightly in the tiled room.
An ominous silence followed. “When you are no longer indisposed,” Merulo said finally, “come to the library plaza. You know where that is.”
“Okay, will do.” I listened for the click of a closing door, then reluctantly extracted myself from the bath. A soft cloth hung from a hoop, which I used to dry myself. With a grimace, I re-dressed in the stained, torn corpse clothing.
By the time I exited the inn, night had fallen.
Without that faint trickle of sunlight, the electric bulbs of the resort burned at a higher intensity, making the geometric buildings and streets appear brighter, sharper, more alien.
I plodded down the road, feeling the absence of people like a weight.
The dragons might be used to living in a tomb, but my imagination strained, filling in the crowds that must once have churned down these walkways.
Their conversations and laughter were nearly audible, as if the vast time that separated us was only paper-thin.
When the library came into sight, I felt enormous relief.
This quickly turned to puzzlement. Someone had laid a tablecloth across the ground, weighing it down with plates of food and a single package wrapped in thin brown paper.
Hydna and Merulo sat at opposite corners of the tablecloth, looking uncomfortable. At least they weren’t fighting.
“What’s all this?” I asked, jogging slightly to reach them. The food looked wonderful—bread rolls, fried fish, and sautéed vegetables in greens, reds, and yellows.
“I portaled into the local town.” Hydna gestured a muscled arm at the spread. “To get us something nice. As I heard it was somebody’s special day.”
A smile pulled itself across my face, and I swallowed a squeak of joy. If she’d been standing, I might have tried to hug her.
“It is not his birthday.” Merulo unfolded himself from his seated position, snatching the parcel from the tablecloth. “Here,” he said. “Because, as you said, we did miss the date, which has evidently upset you.”
It had mostly been an attempt to get out of being yelled at, but I would never let him know. I took the parcel eagerly, tearing apart the paper to find—fabric!
My breath caught. I pulled out a soft, emerald-green tunic and a set of breeches in what looked to be dyed brown cotton. Last in the package was a pair of polished leather shoes, complete with copper buckles.
“I found a guy who looked well dressed and politely asked him to strip and sell me his clothes. He was about your size.” Hydna’s grin made me think she’d been less than polite. “It was Merulo’s idea. He said you have a garment obsession.”
The sorcerer had put himself in my reach.
Taking advantage of this, I threw my arms around him.
At first, he stiffened and cursed beneath his breath, but after a moment I felt a spidery hand pat me awkwardly on the back.
“Thank you,” I said, sniffing and wiping my eyes before stepping back to examine the clothing. “These are far too small.”
“We can fix them with magic,” Hydna said impatiently. “Or I can.”
She stepped forward for her own hug, her arms crushing the oxygen from my lungs. As I squirmed, ribs cracking and eyes bulging, I caught sight of Merulo over her shoulder. He’d turned from the sight, to shoot a look of pure death into the empty air.
That spelled trouble.
Gasping, I begged my way free of her grip.
“Thank you,” I wheezed, my eyes overflowing with either gratitude or pain.
“Thank you both, very much. But, ah, you in particular, Merulo, as it was your idea.” The sorcerer nodded, and I fought down a grin.
I’d been noticing some distance from him—that it might be jealousy brought me dangerously close to laughter.
It was all quite flattering, really, but I wouldn’t let it get to my head.