Chapter Twenty-Six #3
“You can’t,” Dax said to her. He spun toward Senira. “I am Daxicend the composer, and I offer you full distribution rights to my opus, which will be presented at the solstice.”
The official blinked at him. “I don’t have a need for an ‘opus.’”
“It is of high value, and once I have achieved grandmaster status, I will have full access to the results of the sale of performance rights, as well as—”
“I’ll take the ruby,” Senira cut in. “I’ll tell my superiors there was a mix-up with the paperwork. They’ll dock my pay, but that will cover my loss.”
Dax objected. “But—”
Marin told him, “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine.”
“It’s fine.” She shoved the heartsinger ruby at Senira.
Tucking it into the depths of his pocket, Senira glanced at Rijes Velk. “I am sorry for what you’ve gone through. Please know that if it had been my choice…”
“I would say it’s been a pleasure, but it has not been,” Rijes Velk said. She glided past him and out of the room. Marin was impressed she had the self-restraint not to break into a run.
Not looking back at Senira’s pocket, Marin hurried after the librarian. Dax joined her, and they headed down the multiple sets of stairs. Rijes was breathing heavily by the bottom, but she didn’t say a word beyond, “Your boat is here?”
“Yes, with Perri. We have one stop to make, to pick up more passengers, and then I can take you wherever you want to go,” Marin said.
“I have nowhere to go,” Rijes said simply. “But away from here would be a start.”
She wondered how Terlu would react if she showed up with Rijes Velk. That would be worth the ruby. She felt a pang thinking about it, but she didn’t regret it. Maybe she would regret it the next time she went home and had to face Iovar. I couldn’t have kept it and left Rijes.
“Marin…” Dax began.
“It’s done,” Marin said. “I don’t want to talk about it.” What was there to say? She’d given away her parents’ chance at a secure future. I’ll just have to find another way.
She led them all out to the boat, where Ree and Perri waited for them.
Ree waved his branches in the air as a cheer. “You found her!”
Rijes raised her eyebrows at the shrub. “You have assembled a crew, I see. A pleasure to meet you, my dear wax myrtle. A halophyte is well-suited to the sea.”
The shrub looked pleased.
Dax stepped onto the deck as Marin untied from the cleat. She shoved away from the dock with her foot and stabbed the pole into the bottom of the canal. “Perri, if you wouldn’t mind … I’d like to be away from here before that official changes his mind.”
With the sea serpent propelling them, they shot through the canals, away from the prison-that-wasn’t-a-prison and away from the ruby that should have saved Marin’s family.
It wasn’t over.
She’d given up the ruby and her parents’ future. But there was still another blow to land. She knew it was coming and had anticipated it for weeks, yet she wasn’t anywhere near ready.
It didn’t happen, though, until Rijes Velk was below with their new passengers—the librarian’s family—helping them settle in for the voyage.
She’d also taken two bags of what felt like books from what Rijes had called a “secure location.” Marin didn’t ask if she had permission to keep the books.
In her opinion, the head librarian didn’t need permission.
“Can we leave now?” Ree asked. “I’ve had enough of the city.”
Beside them, Perri fluttered a fin—he agreed.
And then Dax said the words that she knew were coming, that she’d known from the very beginning had to come: “I can’t sail with you to Belde this time. I have to return to the conservatory.”
Of course. He had to return. They’d found Rijes Velk. He’d done what he’d said he’d do. She knew that and had known that. She’d reminded herself continuously. She’d refused his kiss because of it.
The words still felt like a stab.
We succeeded, but it feels like we failed. How fun.
She couldn’t repay the debt, and Dax had to return to the conservatory. None of this was turning out like she wanted it to. You knew you could never keep him, she scolded herself. And that ruby … it was too much of a miracle. She wasn’t that lucky. Not in love and not in life.
Marin was steering the boat around a tight corner of the canal.
She concentrated on not scraping the side of the hull on a sharp edge of marble.
Said marble was already streaked with the paint of a dozen boats that had failed to make the turn before her.
She didn’t have any interest in adding to the streaks so she focused on that instead of the way her heart felt as if it were drowning.
“Of course,” she said as neutrally as she could.
“I do,” he said. “Marin…”
“It’s okay. You don’t need to explain.”
“Yes, he does!” Ree said. “I thought you wanted to come to Belde. And beyond—you wanted to see the singing waterfalls!”
She concentrated on ignoring the lump in her throat and the tightness in her chest. Poor Ree. He didn’t know this was coming. She’d known, and it still hurt all the way through her skin down to her bones.
“I have to perform my opus at the solstice celebration,” Dax told Ree. He knelt down to be closer to the shrub’s level. “It’s what I’ve been preparing for my entire life.”
“Like I’ve been preparing for the sea?”
“Exactly like that,” Dax said gravely. “After that, though, yes, I do want to see the singing waterfalls … if all goes as planned. I can’t guarantee it will, but I hope it will. This isn’t a permanent goodbye.”
Stubbornly, Marin didn’t look at either of them.
It was goodbye, whether he realized that yet or not.
He couldn’t come with them to the singing waterfalls or anywhere.
He belonged in the conservatory. He’d see that, soon enough, and she had to accept it.
She felt Perri nudging the boat through the canal and knew she didn’t have to pole, but she continued to jab the pole into the silty muck at the bottom of the canal as if it were her singular purpose in life.
“But I thought you weren’t ready,” Ree said. “You haven’t written your opus.”