Chapter Thirty
THREE MONTHS LATER …
The waterfalls were singing.
Marin steered the sailboat closer as Dax furiously scribbled in his notebook.
They’d sailed here after dropping off the latest batch of refugees at what would hopefully become their new home island, and then performing in the harbor to pay for supplies.
They weren’t due back in Alyssium for a few more weeks.
“Are you hearing this?” Dax cried over the sound of the water. “Those harmonies!”
“Very nice!” Marin called back.
“Very nice? Nice? It’s brilliant! It’s like the world’s soul is baring itself! The way they modulate keys, yet keep the melody flowing.”
Glancing at Ree, Marin smirked. Ree piped up, “I think it’s very pretty.”
Dax opened his mouth, then shut it. “You’re teasing me.”
Swimming beneath the waterfalls, Perri emerged in a burst of spray and trilled a melody higher than the burble of the water. The spray doused all of them, and Ree squawked.
Laughing, Marin said, “Yes, we’re teasing you.
It’s incredible. Phenomenal.” She thought the waterfalls sang a little louder at the praise, but it could have been her imagination.
The water was tumbling down cliffs of quartz that had been stained over many years by minerals in the water: streaks of rust red and emerald and teal.
It reminded Marin of the Painted Pass where she’d first met Perri.
She made a mental note to take Dax and Ree there someday.
She thought they’d like to see where the story of their little family began.
“I wonder if it’s the water, the stones, or the two combined…” Dax said.
Ree asked, “What’s it saying?”
Dax looked startled at the question, then thoughtful. “I don’t believe it’s self-aware … So the meaning resides in what the listener brings to it. Art exists in the intersection between the artist and the audience.”
“What about when I just sing to myself?” Ree asked.
“Then you’re the audience too,” Dax said. “And so is the universe.”
Marin told the myrtle, “The universe really likes your singing.”
He preened. “I know.”
She looked up at the waterfall and listened as the harmonies wove in and out with the tumbling water. It was an endless, chaotic, joyous song. Like us. “I’m glad we came here.”
Dax smiled. “It is very nice.”
Marin grinned back at him. “It’s us. The waterfall.” She didn’t know how to put it into words, but she tried. “We’re falling through life, with very little control.” She waved at the riotous water gushing over the quartz. “But we’re beautiful while we fall.”
He closed his notebook and slid it into a pack to protect it from sea spray, and then he crossed to the helm. He had a look in his eyes that made her smile more.
Ree sighed heavily. “Perri, they’re going to kiss again.”
Perri warbled and splashed in approval.
“You’re no help,” the myrtle muttered. He scampered up the mast to the top, as Dax cupped Marin’s face in his hands and kissed her lightly.
She pulled back, spun the wheel so the boat shifted into the wind, and let the sails luff. She then grabbed a fistful of Dax’s shirt and pulled him closer. His arms wrapped around her waist, and Marin kissed him deeply, wildly, and joyously.
He tasted of the sea.
When the kiss ended, they drew back only a few inches apart.
“Where to next, Captain?” Dax asked.
“Anywhere,” Marin said. “Everywhere.” She looked up at Ree on the mast and then over at Perri in the waterfall. “I’ve heard about islands that float in the air. We could see what kind of music there is in the sky…”
“I’d love that,” Dax said. “I love you.”
Ree scurried down the mast to retrieve his beloved map, while Perri dove deep beneath the water, swam under their sailboat, and emerged on the other side with a fountain of water. Dax stood beside Marin as she trimmed the sails and turned the wheel.
The sails filled with wind, as she steered back toward the horizon. Before them, the sea sparkled, full of possibilities.
Together, they sang as they sailed.