3. Lena
LENA
W alking through the resort was a magical experience, lit by the soft glow of free-floating orbs that gathered on the path ahead with no encouragement.
They moved in slow, languorous patterns, letting me see the strange trees on either side.
Not one of them looked like an Earth tree to me, though I wasn’t sure I’d recognize anything but the most common plants.
Still, these had strange, dark veins running through their leaves, something I’d never seen before.
It was a welcome change. I’d visited dozens of resorts, and as beautiful as they usually were, they’d gotten monotonous. Isla Varyx, with its magical lights and weird plants, was fascinating. Another thing to thank Maxine for.
Our first stop was my cabin, a small wooden hut overlooking the beach.
Inside, a luxurious bed waited, along with beautiful furniture made of local wood and a window with a glorious view of the night sky over the water.
The lighting and the enormous bed told me I should sleep, but my body clock said it was only early afternoon.
Magical jet lag sucked as much as any other, and I wished I had a coffee.
As if summoned by the thought, a cup materialized on the table, the black liquid steaming gently. I yelped, dropped my bag, and stared at it.
“It takes a little getting used to,” Marisol said with a small laugh. “Everyone’s first visit has a few shocks. They’re better faced in private than with an audience.”
I took a steadying breath before turning to reply. “Wonderful. Perhaps I’ll be alone for the next one?”
That came out more accusatory than I’d hoped, but if Marisol noticed, she hid it well. “Maxine said you don’t have much experience with magic, so I stayed on hand in case you needed some help.”
“If anything was going to freak me out, I think it’d be the magic portal,” I said with a grin. “The cup took me by surprise, that’s all.”
“I prefer to be careful. Some humans can handle the big things, but trip up on the smaller ones. I’m glad to see you prepared for both.”
Isla Varyx was a small resort, so the tour was short.
Aside from the other cabins discreetly hidden in the trees, the beautiful beach took up most of the resort.
There were, Marisol informed me, hidden picnic areas in the jungle and scenic views of the ocean to be found if one hiked to the far side.
And there were the rock pools I’d seen from the pier, steaming away prettily.
A couple were soaking in one, and it felt rude to intrude, so we turned back.
“I’ve saved the center for last,” Marisol explained as she led me down a path back into the jungle. “That’s where you’ll find the bar, restaurants, the admin building, the first-aid facilities, and so on. A perfect place to meet our other guests and have some fun.”
We heard the music first, then the terrible singing. Marisol chuckled. “Karaoke night, I’m afraid.”
Emerging from the forest, I came face-to-face with a stylized warrior carved from dark wood. He and his brother flanked the doorway to the Cosmic Tiki Lounge. At least, that was written on the sign above them. I suppose there were worse themes.
Inside, the bar was all hardwood, carved faux-Polynesian decor, and a stage for karaoke—currently occupied by a couple crooning a love ballad with an adorable lack of skill.
I stopped and watched, blinking at the two of them.
He was nothing out of the ordinary, a man wearing a Hawaiian shirt who’d fit in on any tropical resort.
His partner had a snake’s tail in place of legs, and blue scales trailing up her body in intricate patterns. She literally coiled around her man as they sang, and they looked nauseatingly in love.
“That’s Greg and Thalassa,” Marisol told me. “A sweet couple, and exactly the sort of people who benefit from Isla Varyx. Back on Earth, Thalassa has to keep her true nature hidden constantly, but here they can be themselves. It’s a boon for all monsters and their mates.”
I couldn’t argue with that, at least in principle, but it raised another question. “If we’re not on Earth, where are we?”
“I can answer that better than she can,” the bartender said, breaking into our conversation. “No offense, boss.”
The bartender grinned at us and waved us over with one of his tentacles. Yes, tentacles. Two clusters of them, one on each shoulder in where his arms should be.
Marisol laughed. “None taken, Rook. Lena, meet our head bartender, matchmaker, and resident scholar, Rook Krakensen.”
“Very much an amateur scholar,” he corrected. “But aye, I’m the best we have. Pleased to meet you, Lena.”
I took a seat at the bar. “Krakensen? Unusual name.”
“Now, it’s perfectly sensible. My father was a kraken, see?” He grinned, and I’d have taken it for a joke, except for his tentacles. He extended one for me to shake, and it was the weirdest handshake I’d ever received.
“We’re Earth-adjacent, you might say. The portal you arrived through connects to Earth, but nothing else does,” Rook said, going back to my question. “This whole place, it’s carved out of nothingness with magic. Oh, not the buildings, we built them. I mean the island. The world.”
“Someone… made this entire world?” The idea boggled my mind. “My aunt can sometimes conjure up a cake, and that tires her out!”
Rook laughed, slapping the bar with a tentacle. “I didn’t say it was easy, now. And it’s not a big world. It’s just Isla Varyx and enough ocean around it to make the place feel real, floating in the Void. None too stable, neither, the Void’ll swallow it back up soon enough.”
Marisol shot him a look that should have burned a hole through his chest. “What Rook means to say is that the island will probably only last a few centuries. There’s no danger of anything happening to it now.”
Rook laughed. “Sure, Ms. Tidewater’s right. I just say, we should play up the ‘dying days of a doomed world’ angle a bit, that’s all.”
I looked around at the bright, cheerful room. “In a tiki bar? Really?”
“Ignore Rook,” Marisol said, without taking her eyes—or her glare—off him. “He just wants to redecorate so we’ll attract more goth women.”
“A tentacle monster can dream,” he said, apparently unfazed by his employer’s glare. I couldn’t help laughing as he stared off into the distance with a wistful sigh. Marisol rolled her eyes.
“Well, Lena, if you have any more questions, I’m happy to talk any time. I don’t intend to hover over you during your stay, though, so I’ll leave you in Rook’s capable hands.”
“Tentacles,” Rook corrected her. Marisol shook her head at him and withdrew, though instead of heading for her office, she made her way to the karaoke stage. I let her get out of earshot before speaking.
“So now your boss isn’t listening, how doomed is this place?” I asked with a wink. “If the island’s going to fall into the sea tomorrow, I promise not to freak out.”
“Oh, I think she’s more concerned about what makes its way into your review, yeah? But don’t you worry, it’s safe as can be. Long as no one damages the wards, there’s no more reason to worry here than anywhere else. Worst that happens is the occasional storm. Relax, enjoy yourself.”
He placed a margarita glass in front of me with one tentacle, poured the drink with another, and added a lime wedge with a third. It made an impressive show, I’d give him that.
When I reached for the glass, Rook didn’t let it go at first. He met my eyes. “Course, if you can slant your review to attract some goth babes, I’d appreciate it. Just saying.”
Winking, he broke eye contact and let go of the glass, leaving me wondering just how serious he was. I took a sip, savored it, and took another. Whatever else anyone said about Rook, he knew how to make a drink. “I’ll see what I can do. Do you really need the help, though?”
I nodded to the woman finishing up her ballad at the karaoke, tall and pale with long black hair and blood-red lips. Rook scoffed.
“No vampires, thanks. I prefer my blood in my veins.”
“You… want goth girls, at a monster vacation spot, but not vampires?” I raised an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged.
“We all want what we can’t find, yeah? What are you looking for?”
I considered the question. Should I ask about the island, the guests, the experience? Probably, but that wasn’t what he was asking. There was something I wanted to ask.
The flash of strange, inhuman eyes across the bay, the feeling of contact. Direct, soul-to-soul contact, leaving no space for doubt or question. An electric connection. The memory flashed into my brain, as powerful as ever. I blinked to clear my head.
“What’s up with the mountain?” I asked. Rook cocked his head to the side. “I mean, Marisol showed me the island, the jungle, the pools, but she never mentioned the mountain.”
“Ah.” Rook grinned. “That’s off-limits, I’m afraid. The island’s owner lives there, and he likes his privacy. I wouldn’t push that.”
“No? Why not?”
“Not all monsters are welcoming.” Rook looked away, examining the glass he was polishing with an unwarranted air of concentration. “Shouldn’t really talk about him, it’s not my place.”
Maybe I only wrote travel columns, but I was a journalist. Something about what Rook said, or what he didn’t say, bothered me.
“Is he the magician who created the island?”
“No, no,” Rook said, shooting a careful look at Marisol. She’d stepped onto the stage, and there was no way that she’d overhear anything from the bar. “Whoever did that is long dead. The owner keeps the wards intact, though. We need to be careful with him.”
“That sounds like he’d have a hell of a story to tell,” I mused. “It can’t hurt to ask him for an interview, right?”
The bartender grinned. “Suppose not.”