Chapter 12 #2
“S’OK.” He shudders, pauses to inhale deeply. “You don’t owe me anything,” he says abruptly, and I stop in my tracks.
“What?”
“For trying to rescue you,” he clarifies. He sounds almost drunk. The words are kind of runny in a way that I can’t really describe.
Oh, no. He probably has a head injury. I look around, hoping a team of paramedics will come charging out of the darkness, but no such luck.
“I thought I rescued you,” I quip, hoping to lighten the mood.
“I guess so. Thanks.”
A thought haunts me, spinning through my head like a ghost. I can’t help but ask, “Why did you bother?”
“I didn’t want you to die.”
But none of this makes any sense. Jumping in after me was dangerous. Suicidal. “I thought you didn’t like me.”
He sputters. “I—What does that have to do with anything? Haven’t you heard of basic human decency?”
“But you aren’t human,” I point out. I know next to nothing about wolves, but I’m pretty sure they aren’t exactly renowned for pulling people out of the ocean in the same way as, say, dolphins.
Wait. Are there were-dolphins? Because I really, really hate that idea.
“Neither are you,” snaps Duncan, offended. “Would you let me drown?”
“Probably not,” I answer, but I don’t add that I would’ve gone about rescuing him from the same situation very differently. Starting with a call to the coastguard and 911.
“Exactly,” he says, sounding pleased.
As we walk, he keeps losing his footing. Eventually, he pulls to a halt, and says, “Any chance you’re well enough to conjure? I keep stubbing my toe.”
I have no idea what I could conjure that would be helpful in this situation. All the spells I know are nauseatingly basic. Navigation spells, first aid spells, even shields are all beyond me. “You want me to… fix your toe?”
“What?” I swear I see his eyelashes flutter in the moonlight. “No, it’s not that serious.”
Thank fuck.
“I just want to be able to see,” he continues.
I deflate. “I thought we weren’t really supposed to waste power on spells like that.” Especially now, when everything hurts, and I want to lie down in the sand and take a nap.
“Can you do anything else?”
“You know I can’t.” I think bitterly of my phone, lost to the sea. A small sacrifice, all things considered, but my heart clenches. Most of my stuff is backed up, but I worry about some of my photos of Mom, hell, even some of Jeremy that I’m just not ready to let go of yet.
And then there’s another problem. If I conjure a light, he’s gonna see the shirt tied around my waist. The one that barely covers my junk.
Look, I have an excellent body (by human standards) and I know it. But there’s something uniquely humiliating about being caught outside like this, and I’ve been hoping against hope that I won’t have to explain myself to anyone.
Even Duncan, who jumped into the water after me and is the most likely of anyone to understand my plight.
“It’s OK,” he says. “I’m sure we’ll be there soon.”
But I can tell he’s disappointed, and I don’t like that. It’s a visceral response to something that shouldn’t matter so much. I can’t help it.
“Fine. I’ll do it. But you have to promise not to laugh.”
“Pinky swear,” he says, so earnestly that my chest aches.
I reach my hand in front of me, close my eyes, and conjure the most restrained flame I’ve ever managed.
In Elarion’s class, I’m like a walking inferno. I am so, so bad about turning into a human torch. Fire is easy to conjure. Worse, I can’t feel it, so it ends up crawling all over me.
But today, the flame cupped in my hands is tiny. Blue. I focus really hard and turn it into a sphere. There. Now it’s less likely to get out of control (at least, according to Elarion, who is probably sick of me singeing his classroom every week).
“Better?”
“Thanks.”
For a full thirty seconds, I think maybe I’m going to get out of this without Duncan noticing anything. Then something crunches underfoot. I wince, but it’s too late. He looks down and his mouth drops. “Is that a loincloth?”
I let out a squawk that would shame a seagull and say, “It’s—It’s efficient, OK? I’m not gonna get arrested for indecent exposure!”
Duncan cackles. “I don’t know about that, man.”
“Hey, fuck you,” I manage. I am tempted to let the flame swallow me up. Would, if it could get me out of this.
He gestures between us, then to the single coat. “I guess we’re going to jail for indecent exposure either way, huh?”
“I didn’t mean it literally,” I grumble. I am not going to jail. If anything, I will jump straight back into the sea and swim away, sharks be damned. I am not cut out for jail.
“We’ll be fine,” says Duncan hurriedly, like he’s just realized this isn’t a joke to me. “Look, once we tell them we fell off a cliff and there was an emergency, it won’t be a problem.”
“Spoken like someone with money.”
Duncan lapses into sullen silence.
I thought we’d never reach the road, but soon enough, there’s asphalt beneath my feet and bright lights overhead. Atop a faraway cliff, the lights from the university flicker. The town lies somewhere between us, twinkling lights nestled into thickly forested, rolling hills.
It would take forever to hike back to Halea. As badly as I don’t want to deal with police or hospitals, I know I don’t really have a choice. I have no idea what time it is, but I can tell from the total lack of traffic that it’s probably after midnight.
Duncan won’t stop shivering. Even if I’m proud enough to drag myself to campus, I can’t do this to him. We need help.
I walk along the double yellow line so I’m impossible to miss. Duncan practically clings to me. I’d feel better if he stayed on the side of the road, but I already know he won’t listen.
Besides, it’s my fault he’s in this predicament. If he needs body heat, then I can offer some. I try not to think too hard about why I like that, why some part of me is quietly thrilled to be of service.
We trudge along in silence, accompanied by wind, rain, and roaring waves. I am so overcome by guilt that I could drown in it. Is Duncan going to be OK? He’s slow and unsteady. In the dim light, I spot a bloody gash on his neck. The bleeding is sluggish, but it’s an ugly cut.
I chew my lip. That’s probably my fault. I was so worried about tentacles that I didn’t stop to consider the possibility of razor talons. I want to apologize, but the words get stuck in my throat.
Duncan asks after my phone. I tell him I’ve lost it. I’m pretty sure he’s already asked me that, but my head is pounding. I can’t exactly remember.
It doesn’t matter. We’ll find help soon.
Twenty minutes pass and no one drives by. I spot headlights between the town and Halea, but they never come closer. At my side, Duncan tenses whenever they appear.
Finally, finally a pair of headlights pass through town, emerging on the other side. Duncan waves, jumps up and down, then darts ahead. I catch him by the wrist, worried I’ll lose track of him. He doesn’t even try to escape.
“Hey!” he cries, waving his free arm as the car approaches. “Over here!”
It’s too far away.
But the car moves closer and closer, and I start to think that I might recognize it’s shape. Yup, I decide, as it continues toward us. I know that dented Subaru.
Jane.
I’m so overcome with gratitude that I could collapse. She realized I was missing. She came looking for me.
Fuck, I owe her so much.
The car pulls to a stop. “I knew it,” I say to nobody in particular, overjoyed that we’ve finally been rescued. “Oh my god, it’s her.”
Duncan shoots me a confused glance. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think he looks betrayed.
The car door swings open. Jane’s voice rises over the clicking of a seatbelt. “You look terrible.”
She’s only halfway out of the car when I throw myself at her. “You came for me,” I cry, halfway between a wail and a groan.
“You idiot,” she mumbles, squeezing me tight, like she’s been worried, too.