Chapter Twenty-Two #2
He did have a point. She hadn’t heard of other sea serpents who were willing to befriend a human.
Most stories of encounters with serpents ended in shipwrecks.
Actually, most sightings were distant. Serpents were capable of swimming much faster than any wind-powered craft, and they typically avoided ships.
Some people didn’t even believe sea serpents existed, at least until Marin and Perri rolled into their harbor.
Releasing the sail, she let it luff in the wind, and the sailboat slowed.
Ahead, she saw Perri race into the midst of the pod. Sea serpents weaved together, rising out of the water and twisting together. The sea around them churned and foamed. Screeches and calls clattered together.
Dax winced. “I guess that answers the question of whether every sea serpent can sing or if Perri is just special.”
“Perri is special.” Marin’s eyes were glued to the tangle of serpent bodies out in the sea.
She felt as tangled inside as their bodies in the water.
He’d been alone, or alone with a human, for so long.
They’d found ways to understand one another, but it couldn’t be the same as being with his species.
Sticking with her meant that he wasn’t searching for a mate, wasn’t raising his own family, wasn’t with friends who could do what he could do, go where he could go.
Marin swallowed hard. There was a lump in her throat, and her eyes felt hot.
She wondered if a part of him had been searching for this—missing this—the whole time he was with her.
How had he ended up caught in that passageway alone?
Had he become separated from others, or had he chosen to be alone?
What had he given up by sticking with her?
Had he left a family to swim with her? Had he been lonely?
How much did she really know about Perri?
I know he’s my friend. That was all she’d needed to know.
So long as it was true, it was all she ever needed to know.
His life, his past, was his to share or not.
She watched him frolic with the pod of sea serpents. He looks happy.
Watching the sea serpents dancing with one another, Marin didn’t even notice she was crying until Ree asked, “Are you all right, Captain?”
She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “I’m happy for Perri.”
She supposed she’d never expected the sea serpent to stay with her forever. It had been an unusual pairing from the beginning. She should feel lucky for the time he’d chosen to spend with her, instead of feeling like a piece of her had been yanked out through her throat.
“It’s nice to see him play with others of his kind,” Dax said.
“Wait,” Ree said. “What’s he doing?” He scampered up the mast again.
Perri was in the middle of the sea serpents. They’d untangled themselves and were swimming side by side through the frothing waves.
Ree cried, “Marin, why’s he swimming away?”
Marin didn’t trust herself to speak. She felt Dax watching her.
From the top of the mast, Ree shouted, “Perri! Come back!”
His little voice was carried away by the wind.
Marin let the tears fall again and told herself that it was good that he had, at long last, found his true family.
Perri deserved that. He was the kindest, gentlest creature.
She thought of her parents and how much she loved them and would do anything for them.
He should be with others like him. She just hoped they appreciated his sense of humor.
And his musicality. And his joy. She pictured him tossing fish into the air for seagulls …
He’s not dead, she told herself sternly. He’s home, at last.
It was a nice story with a happy ending. She should be happy for him.
She didn’t realize that Dax had moved until she felt his arms around her. She leaned against him and pressed her face into his warm, swashbuckling coat. He stroked her hair. It had happened so quickly. Marin thought at least he’d say goodbye. She drew in a ragged breath.
“Aren’t we going to follow him?” Ree asked. “Get him back?”
Perri had left voluntarily. She’d never force him to stay with her. She wished she’d had the chance to say more, though. Did he know how much she’d loved sailing with him? Marin shook her head. In a thick voice, she said, “It’s his choice. Always his choice.”
Forlorn, Ree said, “I thought he liked singing with us.” He slid down the mast and waddled over to Marin and Dax.
“He did,” Dax said. “I could hear it.”
“He’s got his family now,” Marin said. Her voice broke midway through.
Ree flapped his branches. “He had a family already! Us!”
“Real family,” Marin clarified.
“Do I look imaginary to you?” Ree demanded. He then wrapped his branches tight around his root ball and rocked back and forth. “Marin…”
She pulled back from Dax and knelt beside the wax myrtle. “I know.” She opened her arms, and Ree scurried into them. Kneeling too, Dax wrapped his arms around both of them.
“He’s happy,” Marin repeated. “That’s what matters.
” He’d come into her life suddenly and unexpectedly, and it made sense he’d leave it the same way.
She tried to make herself okay with it. I’m not okay with it.
But it was his choice, and she would never, ever take that from him.
Everyone had the right to choose their own life.
“He’ll come back,” Ree said stoutly, but he pressed closer to her and Dax.
Eventually, they disentangled. Marin rose and looked across the sea. It was calm, with no smooth body of a sea serpent rising out of the waves. Overhead a seagull flew with the wind toward a distant speck of an island.
Wordless, tearless, Marin steered her sailboat toward Caltrey.