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I yearned for the nights when I would sneak out and meet Milo beneath the stars, running from his unhinged captain and trying to understand the mysteries of my past. How things had changed in just a few months. I clung tightly to the blanket wrapped around me, the same one Milo had given me the first night we met, the compass tucked away in my hand as well.
When I could no longer handle the restlessness, I sat up. In the darkness, I tiptoed quietly out with a handful of paints and brushes. Next, I slipped on my shoes and jacket before closing the dorm’s door softly behind me. Through the dim golden lights of the East Wing hall, I made my way onto the sidewalks and out to my car. I breathed in the familiar, homey scent of my old Jeep, grateful for at least one thing that was still the same.
I drove to the old pier, where I once stood so many times waiting for Milo. If only I could call him back with my North Star. Just one more time. What I wouldn’t have given to be able to stand on that pier again this night and see him emerge from the foggy water below like before. I knew I couldn’t. I knew there was absolutely no way. But I tried anyway.
As I walked through the mist, veiled by its thin white embrace, I opened my mouth and ever so softly, only loud enough for me to hear, I sang, wondering how many women long past waiting for the return of their sailors at sea had felt this same empty anguish.
“Lost out at sea
Do you dream of me?
By the call of the waves
I hear you and seek you
Till again the roaming sea
Brings you back to me.”
Walking to the farthest end of the pier, I knelt down. Taking out the paints I’d brought, I spilled them onto the pier’s edge, in a small puddle of seawater. The blue and white mixture swirled in a dance of chaos, until my tears began to fall, and I quietly redirected the colors into the pattern in my head. I only needed a few brushstrokes once or twice. But the rest of the shape I formed entirely with my power.
“And here I thought you’d stopped painting North Stars.” I looked up with surprise at the sound of Bellamy’s voice.
The full moon above gave me just enough light to see him clearly. He was walking toward me, and I quickly wiped my tears before he could get close enough to see them. “And here I thought you’d stopped sneaking up on me in the middle of the night,” I teased with a sniff.
“I suppose old habits die hard.” His voice was tender, and he sat down next to me, dipping his finger into the star I’d painted. “To be honest, I didn’t know you’d be here. But this was the only place I could think of coming for some clarity. I’m not used to…this. To feeling. To resting.” He held up his hands and looked at them as though they were foreign objects.
“I’m sure it will take some time,” I said softly.
“Time,” he repeated. “What a cruel thing it can be.”
“Cruel is the right word.” I sighed, crossing my legs and adjusting myself to face the water.
In silence we sat, the night tide crashing below us and the sea mist casting a chill over my skin. It was Bellamy who broke the silence.
“The last time we were here was right before you broke our curse. I’m sorry for who I was that night. But you pulled me back from the brink. You made me remember who I was. Thank you for that.”
“You’re…you’re welcome.” I pulled my hair over one shoulder, trying to keep it from tangling in the sea breeze.
“I lost myself after Serena’s death. She was the first time I’d felt a love for anything other than the sea. A real love.” He paused with a low chuckle before continuing.
“Serena was everything to me. When she died, nothing mattered. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t save her. The only thing in my control was the fate of my father, and I was set on controlling it. But I forgot who I was in the process. And I turned my back on everything I ever once cared about—including someone who was the closest thing I ever had to a brother.”
“Milo thought of you as a brother, too. He told me that,” I said, reaching over to touch his hand with a reassuring squeeze. “Stay true North. In the end you did that.”
Bellamy’s eyes brightened, and he tilted his head back, breathing in as though he just had a weight lifted from his shoulders. “He’s a better man that I am. But even the best men break when they have nothing left.”
His words worried me, and I wondered if he knew something I didn’t, but I was too afraid to ask. He’d told me Milo had gotten away and made it out alive of the duel at sea. That was all I could bear to know right now.
“I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but It’s almost like I can feel him. Like he’s still out there somewhere, somehow, calling to me.” I took out the compass from my pocket and held it up, watching the twitching needle find its way as it adjusted to point North. Some stupid part of me wanted to pretend it was showing me the way to Milo, somewhere miles away across all the oceans of the world, transcending the years that separated us.
“Maybe he is,” Bellamy said. “He left you his compass.”
I lifted the compass close to my face, examining its brushed metal exterior in the pale moonlight. I brushed my thumb along it and flipped it over, studying the delicately carved “H” on the back.
“May I?” Bellamy asked, scooting a bit closer. I placed the compass in his hand and watched him look it over.
“Look here,” he turned the compass on its side toward me “The baseplate looks as though someone at one point tried to pry it open.”
