Chapter 18
Gil
This isn’t somewhere I was ever supposed to be.
On land, with her, but here in this campground of shambles, here we are, with her arms around my neck, her fingers curiously exploring my fins and the lines of my gills. The kiss breaks, and my forehead presses against hers.
“And you’re sure I’m not imagining you?” she asks in barely a whisper.
“Does this feel imaginary?” I pull her toward me by the waist. She reaches up, placing her hands on my fingers, then the webbing, tracing up and down before shaking her head.
“You feel like … a fish person,” she says, eyes crinkling. “So, yes.”
“Gillarian,” I correct her with a soft smile. “That’s what we’re called—and no, that’s not why my name is Gil.”
“Gillarian,” she repeats, with a nod, an intensity in her eyes as she studies me. “Is Gil short for something? Gil-fish, Gilligan, Gil—”
“—bert,” I finish. “Gilbert is my full name. But I’d rather you call me Gil.”
“Not Gale?” she teases.
“Not Gale,” I reply with a playful sharp tone, giving her a squeeze. “Can I take you somewhere?” I ask, using my claws to toy with the bracelet on her wrist.
“Where do you want to go?” she asks, and this is it. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for, the reason I spent time getting special supplies from my world. The thing I wasn’t able to do when we were young…
“Home,” I simply answer. “My home.”
She glances around the campground, with her brow furrowed. “Don’t you … live here?” She asks and—what?
Did she think I’ve been lurking in a defunct campground my whole life?
“My sweet, dear Splenda, where did you think I wanted to take you all those years ago?” I laugh, unable to keep the amusement out of my voice. First, she thought my name was Gale, and now this.
“Well, somewhere in the marsh, right? Like a town! Some place hidden under the surface?” she asks, biting her bottom lip as if there’s more she wants to ask, more she remembers that she’s not willing to say.
“Not quite,” I drawl. “It’s a little farther than that.”
“How much farther—like, states, countries?”
“More like realms, darlin’,” I say, remembering the way she’d listen to my stories about home with fascination.
She shakes her head, but her eyes are bright with possibilities. “Gil, I’m still getting used to the idea you exist.”
“But I do—it does.” With the pad of my thumb, I trace the bracelet on her wrist. “The charms are special—mixed in with those plastic pony beads are shells and pearls enchanted from my world. Not only will they grant you safe passage, but they’ll always lead you back to me.”
It’s not an easy spell, but it’s one I prepared the moment we were separated. They’ve been waiting in my closet for the day we’d reunite. Along with a collection of freshwater pearls I’ve accumulated throughout the years, that have now been strung alongside them.
She moves her wrist in front of her face and studies the piece of jewelry with a newfound fascination. “I’ll be able to breathe underwater with this?”
“And more.”
For a human, it should act as a soft bubble. She’ll be as safe as if she were breathing air. She should be able to bring some items with her, like that keyboard that’s always in her purse and her notebook.
“I’m sure the sights of Eclipsica would inspire some new music,” I coax,
but she frowns.
“I can’t understand how a piece of jewelry could be as strong as a scuba suit, but then again, that necklace did make you look human.”
“In all fairness, I’ve never tried this with anyone before,” I admit, letting out a shaky breath. “But I’ll be here with you the whole time, each step, and I won’t let anything bad happen to you, Marina, I can promise you that. If the magic fails, we come right back up.”
“Okay,” she says with a nod, “Okay, okay, yes.”
Yes.
The words send warmth through me, and it’s more than keeping good on a childhood promise.
I want her to know me now.
And I don’t know a better way to show her than the place I spend most of my time. Plus, there’s still that open invitation to the festival…
We gather the things she wants to take: a change of clothes, her purse, keyboard, and the notebook that’s been dried and pieced together. Then I lead her through the marsh and, hand-in-hand, we slip into the water. No hesitation—no one to find us.
“Let’s go,” she says, lacing her fingers in mine.
“You’re sure? I don’t want you to feel like I’m throwing you in the deep end.”
“You don’t have to worry,” she says, squeezing my webbed hand tight. “I can swim.”
The sunlight is heavy above us, casting shadows from the trees.
As we plug under the water, Marina’s eyes are wide, and her grip on my hand is tight.
She studies everything with fascination, as I lead her through a cluster of rocks where water bubbles between the cracks like a fizzy soda.
She lets out a laugh, holding tightly as I lead her through it.
There’s a swell of magic I’ve never quite gotten used to, and by the look on her face, she feels it too—a sort of warm energy that has me holding her a little tighter as we pass through the portal.
The guard is asleep, and while technically it’s not banned to bring mortals through here, it’s a relief to swim past without the burden of explaining or worrying about gossip.
There’s no time change; the morning sun glows on the surface by the time we reach my dock.
And when we surface, and are finally standing at the front of my house, she lets out a small gasp. A giddy laugh spills from me.
It worked.
It worked!
“Should I change? I mean, do you live with any roommates or family?”
“Ah, well, I suppose there is one lady I should tell you about,” I say with a chuckle. It’s been such a long time. It’s possible my overgrown swamp kitten won’t remember her the way I do, so it seems fair to give a warning. “Her bark is worse than her bite.”
She reaches toward the back of her neck and begins to scratch,
“Oh, okay, well—” Marina huffs, “—great, can’t wait to meet her.”
Is Marina…
Jealous?
I should smooth this over. I should explain, but then Marina slides her hand in mine, possessively. I’ll let her think what she will for a few minutes…