Chapter 36 Night Swim
Night Swim
Ifound her by instinct. The halls were quiet in that eerie, expectant way. I didn’t call out; I just followed the feeling in my chest that told me where I figured she’d have gone.
The bath chamber door was already open. Warm steam curled out into the corridor and clung to the ceilings in soft, wispy ribbons. The surface of the pool was still, a pane of glass waiting to be broken.
Tarran stood at the edge, her clothes already completely discarded as she stared into its depths. She didn’t look at me when I entered.
“Don’t try to stop me this time,” she said quietly.
“I won’t.”
She nodded, and then, with a deep breath, she stepped in.
The water accepted her as it had before: soundless, without resistance. She walked until the surface kissed her collarbones, her shoulders, her chin.
All the while, she never looked back. Within seconds, she sank beneath the surface.
I sat at the edge and waited, fighting the urge to dive in after her. The floro was warm beneath my legs, the suspended lanters pulsing faintly above me, their glow shifting with my breathing.
Minutes passed, maybe longer. I didn’t call out, didn’t move, even though, if this was a normal pool, she surely would have drowned by now.
The bath wasn’t just water. I knew that now. It showed you things, made you see what it wanted, took and gave without abandon.
When she finally surfaced, she gasped loudly, catching her breath. Her hands broke the surface first, then her head, then her face. She shoved her wet hair back from her forehead, blinking rapidly, as if coming out of a daze.
“Tarran?” I asked, barely more than a whisper.
She turned to me, and I knew immediately she wasn’t the same Tarran who had gone under.
Her hair was still gold-straked but duller now, like something had dimmed the shine from within. Her violet eye was faded too, a muted version of what it had once been, like the influence of the book had…shifted. Retreated.
“I remember everything,” she said, her voice hoarse as she choked back a sob. “I remember it all.”
I crawled to the edge, getting as close to her as I dared without touching the water.
“The King. The choice. Me.” Her breath shook.
“I came here once. I made it to the end. And when I was told I could leave, I said no. I thought…I thought the world outside didn’t want me.
My life sucked out there, Liss. My father was an abusive alcoholic, my mom was useless.
There was nothing waiting for me on the other side of this book.
” Her fingers trembled on the surface of the water.
“It felt safe to be a made-up version of myself than to face the one I was on the outside.”
My throat tightened. “You weren’t made-up to me. You are still you, no matter what.”
Tarran met my gaze, different now. Clearer. Wiser, maybe. A little broken. But no longer clouded, and no longer with the touch of madness she’d always carried.
“I didn’t realize how lonely I was,” she said, her voice breaking around the edges. “Not until you.”
She laughed then, just a breath. A free sound. She approached, leaning forward until our foreheads touched, damp hair touching my cheek.
The kiss that followed wasn’t rushed or wild. It was soft, painful in its gentleness, like we both knew what waited beyond it, that it might be our last.
When she pulled back, her fingers lingered against my face, tracing the edge of my jaw like she was trying to memorize it.
“But it doesn’t change anything,” she said quietly. “You still have to go. You made it to the end. You earned your keys. I already used mine, and I chose wrong.”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t know how, didn’t know what I could possibly say.
She pressed one last kiss to my forehead. “Don’t make the same mistake I did.”
And then, she stepped back, deeper into the water, letting herself float back, as if relishing the warmth of her returned memories.
I sat there, cold in the warmth, the final key in my pouch next to all the others.
The Door of Ever was waiting.