Chapter 24
Marina
The girl I love.
I heard him wrong; that’s the only explanation.
I’m too busy dodging him in the water, like an impromptu game of tag, to give him a chance to say it again.
We swim slowly, above the water and under, where Gil confidently points out creatures and plants, explaining the ecosystem to me. There are bright pink water lilies, like the ones he gave me on our first date, and fish with more teeth than I’m comfortable with.
“What is that?” I ask, following a strange sound and seeing a cluster of creatures off in the distance. They’re as big as a medium-sized dog, with wrinkled skin and beady, folded eyes. The classic characteristics of something “so ugly it’s cute,” but in this case…
“Ah, just a bunch of squonks. Don’t pay them any mind,” Gil says with a shrug. “Lore is that they wander around crying because they’re so darn ugly. You’ve got some in the mortal realm too, if you know where to look.”
Their tears drip down into the water, and I think I understand.
“Oh, so do their tears help power the magic of the portals?”
“’Fraid not, darlin’. Squonks are just well, squonks,” he says, his laugh bold and untamed, as if the question itself is ridiculous. “That’s like asking if those racoons you told me about drive the city bus where you’re from.”
“In my defense, racoons don’t have magical tears, and I wouldn’t underestimate them,” I say, feeling my cheeks flood with embarrassment. “They’re pretty loud though, huh?”
“If it eases your mind, we don’t normally get many by my place. The little things are smart enough to swim from a gator, though it’s normally in circles. And, well, good luck to ’em.”
I gasp. “Clawrece doesn’t eat them, does she?”
“Nah, I think they probably taste as good as they look,” he says. “Loud things have a habit of hanging out around the office for a while—made meetings a nightmare.”
“The office?” I ask, suddenly struck with the visual of my aquatic boyfriend shoved in a landlocked cubicle.
“Where my family works. It’s not too far off. Wanna see?” He grins. Eagar to learn more about his life, I nod and let him lead me away from the strange creatures and farther into the marsh.
The office is less of an office and more of a hub in the middle of the water surrounded by floor-to-ceiling glass windows that sparkle like crystal.
It’s similar to his bedroom in the sense that the decorations make me question whether I’m lounging on a couch in a waiting room or still in the swamp.
Moss hangs from the entryway as delicate string lights twinkle down by a desk that houses a list of brochures.
A castle tour through a moat.
A ride through what looks like the Everglades.
Nothing you’d see in the mortal realm—no, each guide is strictly focused on this magical place.
Eclipsica.
Gil told me during one of our chats this morning it was named for the “moth fairies” who have the largest region in the land.
An eclipse is what you call a group of moths, which is the most random bug fact I’ve ever heard.
I suspect it’s the first of many random tidbits I’ll learn, and I’m looking forward to them all.
It’s quiet when the two of us walk in, and with a cheeky grin, Gil slides behind the desk in the center of the room. It’s made of old wood and mimics the look of the roots of a tree.
“Where is it you’d like to go today, miss?” he asks, sliding me an assortment of papers. There are pictures of overgrown trees, lily pads, and ruins in the distance. This really is a fairytale. A fairytale where the prince has scales, financial stability, and said he loves me.
He loves me.
I bite my bottom lip and lay my hand on a pamphlet at random: a scenic view of glittering water. He nods. My thoughts are so overwhelmed with the idea of love that all I can do is point, but Gil doesn’t seem to mind.
“A very good choice. I’ll personally bring around our very best boat and—”
“Gil, that you?” A voice calls, and footsteps sound from around the corner. “I figured you’d still be off—oh!”
It’s a woman, younger than us, with white and pink scales that billow into something that looks like a dress from her torso to her hips.
She bounces into the room and slides to a stop in front of us.
She seems frozen for a moment, flicking her dark blue eyes up and down until they reach our joined hands.
A flush of embarrassment floods my cheeks.
“Well, I’ll be damned!” she squeals, clapping her hands together. “Finn! Finn!! Get in here!”
“I’ve explained our filing system over five times today, and—” A man appears, around the same age of Gil—I think.
It’s hard to tell. Gil is taller, but they both have the same scale patterns, although Finn is a deeper shade of blue instead of green.
In my humble opinion, my boyfriend is the cutest of the bunch.
I’ve seen them in photos, both on Gil’s walls and in the scrapbook. I put on my best smile and hope my panic doesn’t seep through. So much for everyone being at the festival.
A sheepish “Hi” is all I can manage as the two stare into my soul.
“Marina, this is Angel and Finn, my younger siblings,” Gil says. “This is Marina. I thought y’all would be off already?”
“Not everyone can be as lax as you with their schedule,” Finn says, and for a moment, his eyes flick to me.
“Well, hang on now,” Gil begins. “Everyone takes vacation now and then, and mine have been the same week ever since I started working here.”
“Don’t mind him. He’s just salty the faerie princess he asked to come to the festival later on had plans,” Angel teases, but Finn continues to glare.
Maybe his family won’t like me as much as he thought.
Maybe they’ve resented him this whole time for looking for me.
Maybe…
“Holly doesn’t have anything to do with this,” Finn pouts. That must be the name of the person who rejected him. “But the problem with imports is those invoices you left are a mess.”
Gil straightens, the boyish charm has left and he suddenly seems … different.
Professional.
“I doubt that,” he says, and something about the confident tone makes warmth spread through me. Not cold, not exactly, but serious. I’m a little stressed with the way he and his brother argue about shipments and crates and… honestly, I have no idea.
“Imports?” I ask. “Don’t you do tours around the wetlands?”
“Remember how I said Grampy used to dabble in mortal tech? It didn’t go as well as he wanted, but that didn’t mean there was never any demand,” Gil says, running his webbed hand up the back of his scalp where his fins ruffle down to the base of his neck.
“So, is it…?” I begin, unsure if I should ask.
“Legal?” Gil answers with a lopsided grin. I think I hear his sister Angel giggle.
“Your little girlfriend is here for three minutes and is already assuming we’re criminals?” Finn scoffs. I bristle because if winning them all over is supposed to be a goal, it’s getting harder by the second.
“Mind your tongue,” Gil says, his voice so strong and firm that it nearly startles me. “Marina is my guest here, and that calls for hospitality, wouldn’t you say?”
He’s not yelling, but there’s a warning tone there that leaves no room for argument. In this world, I’m under his protection—even if it’s from his little brother’s sassy comments.
Angel laughs, but I notice her crack her knuckles, glaring at Finn as if offering back-up.
Finn sighs, grumbling an apology in my direction,
“Could you please look at these numbers before you go back to… whatever it is you’re doing?” he says. This time, I sense a little desperation rather than scorn.
Gil said he’s been off for a week; it could be the business relies on him so much that it hurts when he’s gone. What would it be like to be so indispensable? For a moment, I look at him anew, so tall and confident. Heat floods through me.
Gil tenses his jaw before looking to me for approval. I nod; of course he can go. From the look of it, sounds like Finn really needs him.
“Go ahead. It sounds important.”
“Not more important than you,” he whispers in my ear. “But if you’re sure…”
I give his webbed hand a small squeeze and force a smile that I hope is convincing to both him and his brother.
Despite Gil being defensive over me, I really want his siblings to like me.
Gil gives me an apologetic smile and kisses me on the forehead, leaving the keys to the boat he selected in my hands.
“I’ll be back in no time,” he promises, but with the way he and his brother bicker as they hurry down the plant-lined hallway, part of me doubts that. Angel and I follow along until we reach a closed-in space with a filing cabinet and desk.
The alcove is just as quirky as Gil’s house, which makes me wonder if his Grampy had anything to do with the design. Maybe he was the one running numbers here before Gil stepped in, but I can’t be sure. Though, it’s sweet to think that he has such a strong connection to a grandparent—just like me.
What pieces of Grams do I carry with me? I’ve always thought she was more adventurous, more daring, but now, I look at where I’ve ended up; maybe we’re not so different.
Gil and Finn sit, and my friendly boyfriend is suddenly stiff and resolved as he flips through a binder. It’s clinical and uncreative and, for the first time since our weekend together, doesn’t seem like him.
I probably don’t seem much like myself at work either.
I wonder what he’d think if he was forced to watch me fold and re-fold badly designed t-shirts.
If he’d notice the way my face falls each time Aunt Andrea capitalizes on The Ole Reliables, even as she complains that they sounded like “a bunch of out-of-tune hippies” behind the fan’s backs.
“Yeah, they’ll be at this for a while.” Angel sighs. “Come on.”
“Where? I mean, I don’t know if I should.”
“It’s your first time in our realm, right?” she asks, batting her eyes. It’s a surreal sight considering the transparent lids. “Do you really want to sit here waiting in an office, or do you want your future sister-in-law to give you a tour?”
“A tour sounds—wait.” I fumble as her words sink in. “We’ve been dating for like two days.” And that’s a generous estimate.
“I can’t let Finn get all the teasing in,” she says, eyeing the keys in my hand. “At least I’m not mean about it.”
“Well, as long as it’s okay with Gil,” I say. “I don’t want to ditch him here or make him worry.”
“Oh. don’t worry,” she says, tightly closing her eyes and pressing her fingers to her temples. She lets out a low hum, then another, nodding every once in a while.
“He says it’s fine!” she announces cheerfully and—What?
Why didn’t Gil mention they have family telepathy?
“Wait, you can … communicate with your thoughts?”
“Sure seems like it, huh?” She shrugs and grabs the keys from my palm as if it’s nothing. “Come on!” And alright. I guess I don’t have a reason to say no.
Angel’s webbed hand cups mine, and I let her pull me toward a dock filled with boats. My heart is racing, but Gil gave his blessing. How much trouble could the two of us possibly get into?