Chapter Forty-Eight
Anew moon rose over deep-blue ocean waters that night. How fitting.
Alora lifted the latch of the glass enclosure from where it rested in the sand.
These were not like the beaches she’d read about in other places of the world: all black cliffs and black sands, rugged and dangerous, the water cold.
These beaches were white and yellow sands, warm and soft and inviting.
And there were flowers. All colors, growing from cracked logs and creeping over dunes. It looked so well together, the delicate and vast, that Alora knew she would come back to visit often, now that she didn’t fear for her and others’ lives.
The mermaid climbed from the enclosure, its eyes closed, nose upturned to the salt on the breeze and starlight. Alora watched the deep inhales and prolonged exhales of the creature’s chest, her own tight.
She swung the lantern in her grip. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come back for you after we first met.”
“I understand.”
“Will you be all right on your own?”
“I am home. I will be well.”
Alora nodded. She’d not been gone a full day and already she yearned for home. How must it have been for the mermaid, entrapped for nearly two decades? For once, she could not imagine.
A particularly large wave crashed across the beach, its pull reaching the mermaid and grasping hold. A sound much like relief left the creature’s lips. It didn’t fight the water’s retreat but leaned into the drag.
“Thank you.”
Alora stared back into those familiar silver eyes above the surface.
“You’re welcome.”
A wave splashed over her boots, and when it was gone so was the mermaid. When the next came, Alora’s boots had vanished. Another, and she was up to her knees.
The water was still rather frigid, a shockingly pure cold, and she looked out at the boundless sea, at the bare outline of a burgeoning moon, and closed her eyes.
She could feel morning easing nearer but thought Mrs. Flops could wait a bit longer. Mr. Zanfold had promised to check in on her, and Alora had not gone to the ocean in so long.
In her hand, dangled her membership card.
“Thoughts of joining the mermaid?”
Alora’s body responded to that voice, though she did not turn. Or open her eyes. “Perhaps. Do you think I might imagine myself gills? Or maybe just bigger lungs, like a sea serpent.”
The crunch of sand changed in her ears. He’d dismounted, coming toward her. Alora shook her head. She’d left him behind to see to the continued dismantling of Opulence. Either it hadn’t lasted so long as she thought, or he worried she’d become entrapped again.
Or fall to the depths in melancholy.
“Lungs, probably. So you can go between land and water.”
“That would be wiser, I suppose.”
A touch on her back, and an arm was easing around her waist, dragging her backward, onto the beach. “Are you well?”
Alora stared up at Bash. He’d donned the vest again, the silver setting off his coloring.
His eyes were warm, concerned. She said, “Opulence is finished, everyone freed. Soon, it will be a bad memory. Why wouldn’t I be well?
” At his raised eyebrow, she huffed, scowling.
“What? Did you think I would fall apart that we didn’t break it?
That I’m still entranced? At least I am entranced by a good person.
A friend. She won’t hurt me or convince me to commit diabolical things. ”
When he shifted at her words, her eyes dropped, and when they did, she noticed what was tucked beneath his arm.
Alora stumbled backward, her feet sinking into cold, wet sand. “What are you doing?”
Bash brought the skull to his middle. “Hear me out, Alora—”
“Bash, no!”
His jaw hardened. “I need you to hear me out. Will you?”
She dropped her head into her hands, as if she could wipe the beach clean of him by blocking her sight. But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. “Tell me.”
“You can look at me. I’m not my—I’m not him.”
Alora lowered her hands at once, her mouth parted. “I would never even think that! I only don’t want you to repeat to me of your leaving.”
Bash’s eyes cleared, the darkness receding. “It isn’t that. I only thought of it after everything was done, and I had time to consider it all.”
“And what have you thought of?” Her eyebrows met, awaiting his explanation.
“Allow me to transfer your entrancement to me. To try this one thing. If it doesn’t work, we can transfer it again. Back to Lennox.” At her silence, he pressed, “Do you trust me?”
Alora gazed up at him—at his hard earnestness—and said, “Completely.”
Bash’s shoulders lowered. He drew a deep breath to respond—only she interrupted. This was a quiet moment if she’d ever experienced one, and she couldn’t hold it in any longer. Couldn’t fathom how long he’d held it in himself.
“Merridon told me about you as a child,” she began. “Only a little, but he told me about the two boys he traded for. To hear it from him… I’m so sorry, Bash.”
The lantern’s light struggled in the deep night, but it did fine in revealing an old hurt in Bash’s eyes.
His throat hitched before he scoffed. “Miserable years. Topped with a promotion. Quite the gift it was to be named a captain of my adoptive father’s band of henchmen.
Even better to discover the name to be a repurposing of an old insult. I’m surprised he told you.”
Alora could not quell the welling of her tears. “He was despicably cruel.”
Bash’s gaze fell to the sand. “It’s embarrassing to admit that a decade ago, I still had hope that I could fix it.
Mend or mold our relationship into something resembling a real family.
I signed that contract willingly. It was my greatest mistake, and I will spend the rest of my life in atonement for what I’ve done. ”
“Bash…” Alora blinked and wet coated her cheeks. “You couldn’t have known.”
“I read the contract, Alora.”
“And did he also list out all the plans he had for you and the men you’d eventually lead?”
He swallowed. The pause stretched. “No. But it was all there, between the lines.”
“His trickery is not your fault. An enchanted contract where you aren’t to question his authority?
That is not your fault. You did all right at hiding your good heart from me in the beginning, but it didn’t take long for me to sense something was amiss in the details.
I knew you didn’t fit in the roles you’d been assigned—and I wasn’t wrong.
I’m sorry to have made you feel like your past doesn’t deserve forgiveness.
It does, and I trust you wholeheartedly.
That you will do your best to right every wrong.
That you won’t hurt me. I really do feel that. ”
His eyes snapped to hers, intense and dark. “I sincerely don’t think I deserve you.”
“Why not? Because you’re imperfect and I’m not?” Alora snorted at the ridiculousness. “Let me be imperfect with you. It’s better than being it all alone.”
He watched her steadily. If he thought it would intimidate her, he was very wrong. But he said, “Does this mean you’ll try with the skull?”
Alora gulped, pulling strands of hair from where they whipped against her face.
In her clenched palm, her membership bent, and in her chest, her heart hammered against her ribs.
“If you really want to.” Bash smiled at her response—though it didn’t look quite real to her; his dimple hardly showed.
When he made to turn the skull around, though, she threw a hand over eyes.
“Wait! You’re not going to tell me the details? ”
“No.”
Alora made a low sound, almost a growl, and widened her fingers. Did he not believe her when she said she trusted him? Apparently not.
She dropped her hand in a sudden rush. Like with the mermaid, she would prove herself true to her word. Alora stared into the ruby eyes of the cursed crystal skull and was immediately pulled down.
***
“Alora. Look at me.”
Alora’s gaze snapped upward.
“Good. It’s worked.”
“Maybe I only wanted to look at you.”
“Did you?”
She couldn’t refuse an answer. Or lie. “Yes. But it’s also worked.” Bash didn’t seem all that pleased, however, considering she’d done as he’d asked. An anticipatory flutter rushed about her insides. “What next? Will you demand I kiss you?”
He frowned down at her. “Isn’t that immoral?”
“Very.” Though she’d be more than willing. If it mattered. Bash shifted again, rolling his shoulders. “You look nervous,” she said.
“Do I? I suppose I am.” He cleared his throat. “All right. Here goes. Alora Pennigrim…”
Alora’s eyes widened at his use of her full name, and not all of it due to entrancement. Her heart rose until it lodged somewhere in the narrowing of her throat.
“You are my greatest desire. Your frightening amount of bravery. Your ability to realize the beautiful in all things. Your mesmerizing, imperfectly real smile. I desire you, wholly beholden only to yourself. Give me that.”
Alora’s breath caught.
Bash’s wish—
His desire—
Good gracious.
Alora imagined the cursed skull vanished from the world.
Then she flung her arms up and kissed him.