Droplets (DROPLETS Trilogy Book 1) (20 page)

    
Go ahead, try it
.

     Taking a deep breath of water, I felt my lungs refresh and then plunged forward, mimicking Kryssa’s movements. It was like a self-controlled rollercoaster where I could do whatever I wanted. I twisted, turned, flipped, and then dashed toward the surface where I let my body arch out of the water. For one instant I became human, but then changed back immediately, hardly enough time to even realize my legs had returned before my head plunged back into the crisp ocean water.

     Eventually we collapsed on the ocean floor, exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. I found it strange that no noise came from my mouth and bubbles didn’t exit my lips. The laughter between us was more of a high-pitched woven whisper that came from our throats.

    
I don’t think that counted as being careful,
Kryssa giggled to herself.

    
That’s true, but it was too good to pass up.
I smiled and Kryssa rolled over onto her side to look at me.

    
I think that’s one thing we have forgotten in this war: how to be happy. It’s what I miss more than anything. That, and—never mind.
She broke off abruptly and floated up to look around us. I sat up, wrapping my arms around my fins and wondered what it was she missed the most.

    
Do you ever worry about sharks?
I asked, trying to diffuse the awkward moment.

     It worked. Kryssa broke into laughter, the merriment in her eyes doing my heart some good. Too often she looked so sad.
No. We are faster and stronger than any shark in the ocean. They are afraid of us actually.
I recalled the shark I had seen upon leaving Coveside and how it had swum away so quickly.

     Kryssa continued,
Their teeth are no match for these.

     Her blades shot out of her fingers and I stared at them in astonishment. It was only the second time I had seen mermaid blades, but underwater they had a much more eerie appearance and the very sight of them made my own fingers tingle.

     Looking around again, Kryssa retracted her blades and extended her hand toward me, pulling me up beside her. I laughed to myself thinking how human her actions were.

    
We better move on.

     This time we swam with a purpose and a few minutes later I could see the ocean floor rising in the distance.

    
You should know where to go now
. Kryssa’s voice sounded calm, but her eyes continued to dart around as she tested our surroundings.
You best be quick about it.

    
All right,
I agreed.

    
I guess I’ll see you later
, she said awkwardly. Surprising me, she leaned over to give me a quick hug.

    
Thank you
, I said while noticing how disconcertingly quiet it was under the surface.
For everything
, I added softly.

    
It was fun
.

     We both took deep breaths and I turned to look at the rising ocean floor. Nerves tightened within my stomach. What would Patrick be like when I got back? I bit my lip, unsure of what would happen.

    
I’ll be back for a visit
, she said. I nodded in agreement to her words and twisted to look at her again.

    
I look forward to it
, I said. She smiled and turned to leave. I watched her streak away in a shimmery blur of blue and silver ripples, then took a deep breath and repositioned myself with the island directly in front of me.

    
This is it
, I mumbled to myself and kicked off toward the rising ocean floor.     

     Reaching the island, I hunkered low so the waves crashed just above my head. I fingered the zipper of the small pack around my waist and waited for the courage I needed to proceed forward.

     With another deep breath I shot forward, arching perfectly out of the water while zipping open the pack and pulling on the clothes before my feet hit the sandy shore. Without pausing, I broke into a stride heading for the shadows of the large leafy trees. My stomach was in knots over what would be waiting for me.    

     Not knowing where to look for Patrick, I decided it would be best if he came to me. Thinking ahead, I trudged on toward the house while plans formed in my mind. Maybe a little dinner would help soothe his anger. A myriad of recipes flew through my mind as I tried to figure out which one he would like the most.

     Having a plan and something to do seemed to ease the nervous pangs I was feeling. But they were still there, nagging at my insides.

20. Truth

The delicious smell of lobster chowder wafted throughout the cabin, filling my nostrils and making my stomach grumble in hunger. I laughed nervously to myself. It had been almost five hours since I had returned to the island, and still there was no sign of Patrick. In fact, nothing looked different. It was as if he had yet to set foot in the house since we left for Lathmor. I stood next to the hot kettle of lobster chowder biting my nails nervously
.

   
Where was he?
The thought ran through my head for the millionth time. His absence was making me uneasy. 

     After all ten of my nails were practically gone, I made up my mind. I had a right to know what he was thinking. If he was angry with me, then he should tell me to my face. A small part of me worried about what would happen when he surely rejected me. Somehow this friend had crept deeper into my heart than I thought. 

     Marching out the front door and down the spiral staircase, I began my search though still unsure of where to look for him. The sun was just sinking below the trees and I knew my time was limited; though my eye sight was impeccable underwater, it was still the same on land.

     I followed the trail that led to the waterfall, thinking I might find him there. But all I found was the cascading waters. In the orange light, the water took on a mournful glow as though it was lonely and I couldn’t help but feel connected to it in some strange way.

     Pressing on, my search led me to other areas around the house, circling wider and wider, but I was too afraid to call out his name. In the back of my mind I knew I was going to have to give up soon. I dreaded having to try and go to sleep without knowing where he was. I tried to fight the pang of remorse churning within, but it threatened to take control.

    
Was he really so angry with me? Had I been wrong in hiding my true identity? Did he think our friendship was false?

     My feet carried me without my knowledge. Branches brushed against my face, but I didn’t care. I was miserable and determined at the same time. My heart was on a mission, refusing to give up and afraid of the end result.

     Dim light from the sunset peeped through the trees as I neared the outer edges of the island. The familiar sound of the waves caressing the shore met my ears, but I paid it no mind. I all of a sudden knew where he would be. The cliff, the very rock edifice on which I had found refuge on the first day I arrived on the island, lay ahead. My heart began to pound heavily, the sound of it ringing in my ears. I knew he had to be there.

     Keeping the cliff in my sights constantly, I pushed forward and finally broke through the last few branches to a clear view of the rock. Without looking at the top, I began to climb. I reached the summit quickly, knowing what I would find.

     Shards of ginger clouds and a pastel orange sky created a dome above my head, but my eyes zeroed in on the person I was most anxious and dreading to see. Patrick sat in the exact spot where he had found me; his legs were bent with his arms resting lightly on top of his knees. He didn’t turn, but I knew he was aware of my presence. I waited for what seemed like hours.

     Patrick sighed heavily and untangled his ankles, rising to his feet. My breath caught in my throat. He seemed larger, more determined, as though his defiance of Voon’s threats to my well-being had awakened something within him.

     His hair blew gently in the breeze as he turned to meet my gaze. The small corner of my heart opened. I cared for him more than I had thought. I knew in that moment that walking away from him would cause me a great deal of pain. How close that moment could be was something I didn’t want to think about.

     Just seeing him now, after knowing what Kryssa had told me of his past, was enough to transform my view of him. I remembered how Kryssa had said he was old, and for the first time I could see the years in his eyes. He seemed wise and knowledgeable, and yet wary of me.

     He did not speak, but continued to look at me calmly. I gulped nervously, wondering what he would say. I knew I wouldn’t be the first to speak; I couldn’t, there were too many emotions churning inside to form coherent thoughts. But he didn’t speak either. Instead, he walked toward me carefully. Nerves gripped my stomach. Part of me wanted to run away, but the stronger part won. I would face the rejection that was surely coming.

     With one slow but deliberate movement, Patrick extended his hand and placed his palm in mine. Again, I tried to swallow and the sound was rather loud. I hoped that he didn’t hear it. Then, without looking at me, he turned and softly pulled me along behind him, his very touch sending shots of electricity along my flesh. 

     I followed him with my head held high, but dreading every step.
Why couldn’t he just get it over with?

     I didn’t know where I would go once he turned his back on me. Lathmor was a possible haven, but there was only impending capture for me there. The island was where I wanted to be; it was the only place I felt safe with a future that didn’t involve the threat of Morven.

     Patrick led me down the steep hill. We approached and entered a cave hidden within the crevices of the cliff. I remembered seeing the opening on my first day exploring the island. Curiosity pushed the threatening fears aside and I blinked rapidly to adjust to the dim light of the stone walls dripping with salty water.

     His grip never loosened, and he continued forward with a determination I had never seen in him before. The light from the outside behind us grew smaller and just before it disappeared from sight we broke off to the left into a small hole in the rocky wall. If I had been alone, I never would have seen it.

     Patrick came to a sudden stop and dropped my hand. I immediately felt separated from him, as though mere contact had given me insight into what he was feeling.

     The room we stood in was large, but not any wider than the first floor of Patrick’s cabin. The circular chamber was entirely empty aside from various unlit torches that hung along the walls. Softly packed dirt covered the floor and kicked up in little puffs as Patrick walked around the room, lighting each of the torches in order. I scrunched my toes in the dirt as though it could provide me some security for what was about to come.

     He lit the last torch and I swallowed heavily, preparing myself.

     He turned slowly from across the room to face me. My earlier confidence fled and I couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze. I stared at his chest, too afraid of what I would see in his eyes.

     “I’m sorry.”

     Of all the words, I had conjured in my mind, these two were the least I was expecting him to say. “I’m sorry that this happened to you.” Patrick’s deep warm voice caressed the silence. It was not angry, and for this I was thankful. Although I knew it would still end the same, at least he wouldn’t be furious with me. At least I would never again have to see the anger he had flashed at me in Lathmor.

     Finally I met his gaze. His eyes were somber, and yet frustrated as though he couldn’t put his feelings into words. I waited while trying to think of some solution to give him an easy way out.

     He broke our gaze and looked away, his finely carved face casting dancing shadows on the damp cave walls.

     “Lissie,” he said as he turned his face back toward mine. “Please say something.” He sounded desperate.

     “What do you want me to say?” I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper. He sighed heavily and, obviously exasperated, laughed slightly. 

     The tension was so strong in the air that I could taste it on my tongue. But it was a strange tension—it didn’t cause blood to boil and fear to spread. Instead, it forced all emotions to coil into a tight ball and wait silently for the moment when it could explode into lurid fireworks. I knew that moment was coming soon. I knew it would come when he told me to leave.

     “I don’t know.” Patrick’s voice was like mine, hardly audible. Again the silence cloaked us. “Why don’t I tell you my story so you can understand?”

     He looked up to see if I accepted his request, but I simply stared back unsure of what he was talking about.

     “I’ll start at the beginning.” Again he looked to see if I had any thoughts on the matter, but my mind was frozen, refusing to allow my thought to move quick enough to react to his words. He inhaled deeply and his eyes became distant, looking back at memories that were hundreds of years in the past.

     “I was born in England in 1257, the son of Lord Kenton Walsh and one of four children. I was the oldest boy in my family and had a younger brother and two younger sisters. We lived in the west near the shores of a beach where I would often go on long walks after arguing with my father. It was after such an occasion that I met Nerissa.”

     A shiver ran down my back as he spoke her name. He said it like a curse, a fowl word that poisoned the mouth.

     “It was early evening when I saw her for the first time. My dog, Hector, was with me and I think he knew she wasn’t human the instant he spotted her. She was sitting on a rock looking out over the ocean. I remember being amazed by her beauty and knowing that there was something different about her. Little did I know then what she would do to me,” Patrick said, shaking his head slowly.

     “She spoke smoothly to me. She wove a tale of trouble in which she was stuck and asked for me to help her. I was obliged to, not only out of chivalry, but because I wanted to. She had lied to gain my confidence and it worked. I had known nothing of her true nature and the power she possessed.” Patrick grew frustrated, obviously angry with himself for being so gullible. 

     “She left me that night, but told me to be ready for her to come back someday. She spoke of wanting to be with me forever and at the time the idea sounded wonderful. She spun stories of ruling the world together and I dreamt about the day when she would come back. Being the eldest son of a Lord was not enough for me anymore.

     “It was not until the summer of my twentieth year that I saw her again. It happened almost the exact same as before: I was once again walking with Hector, and she was sitting on the same rock as I had seen her last time. Her beauty was just as stunning as it had been, but I hinted a sense of urgency within her. This time my instincts told me to not trust her.

     “I remember how she looked at me,” Patrick said, his eyes narrowing as he remembered. “It was as though I was a possession, not a person. I was something to be owned.” I knew this look well and could see it in my mind’s eye. How many times had Morven looked at me that same way?

     “She said it was time to leave, time to conquer. But her urgency scared me and I told her to go away. I was angry with her. For two years I had waited patiently, and now that my life was finally heading in the right direction she had returned. But she only laughed at my threats and gave me a choice. I could either go willingly or be forced. I refused her again, this time foolishly telling her off. Then everything changed.”

     The lines on Patrick’s face deepened as he remembered. Part of me wanted to cover my ears. I didn’t want to hear the horror I knew was to come. My own nightmares ran through my mind.

     “She laughed again and a little boy stepped out from behind the rock she was sitting on. He glared at me and there was something about him that made me want to run away, but being the son of a Lord I simply drew my sword in response.” I knew immediately just who the young boy was. In my mind, I could not think of him as a child.

     “The boy did not speak,” Patrick said, “but looked at my sword as though it was useless. He walked close to me, circling Hector and me slowly, and then without warning he pulled my hunting dagger from my belt and plunged it into Hector’s chest.” I gasped and raised a hand to my mouth, but Patrick continued to speak as though he had not heard me. 

     “Hector didn’t have a chance of surviving, but before I could react the boy pulled the dagger from Hector’s limp body and sliced my leg open.” Unconsciously, Patrick grazed a hand over his right thigh while my eyes widened in horror. “The next thing I remember was flying across the top of the water in Nerissa’s arms, the boy beside us.”

     “When we reached land, I had a fever and later awoke in a large bed in a stone room. Nerissa tried to nurse me back to health, but I refused to eat. It was only when she threatened the wellbeing of my family that I gave in to her ministrations. Over the next few weeks while I began to heal, I tried to figure out a way to escape. My only weapon was the dagger which the boy had used to kill Hector and wound me. Why they had left it in the room I’ll never know.

     “Nerissa and the boy entered my room one night while I feigned sleep. I remember trying to be as relaxed as possible, when they suddenly tied me down to the bed. Nerissa, with the help of the boy, lifted my right shoulder and drew her blades across my skin.” My mind flashed back to what Kryssa had told me about Patrick; again I wondered about the scar that supposedly traced the back of his shoulder.

     “She shoved something sharp into my flesh, and when she pulled away from me her hand was bleeding. One of her blades was missing.” Horror washed through my gut, making me nauseated.

     “I blacked out for a moment, but when I came around I was no longer restrained and a woman I had never seen before was in the room. She spoke to me quickly, but all I understood was that she was there to rescue me.” Thinking of Kryssa’s mother Cordelia, I waited in wonder to know what happened. “Just as I got to my feet, Nerissa and the boy entered the room and the women began to fight.” Patrick’s eyes were wide and his breath had escalated without his knowledge. He was physically present in the cave, but his mind was transported far away from the island.