It felt as if every breath of wind in the forest, every call of a bird in the trees, every heartbeat inside the tiny cottage was silent.
As she spoke the last syllable, the concoction sank into the merbaby’s skin, leaving only a patch of brownish-green that faded as she watched. She held her breath. Slowly, very slowly, the bits of lightning vanished, and the merbaby uncoiled.
He opened his eyes and held out his arms.
The mermaid let out a cry and launched herself out of the tub. Water splashed onto the floor, the hearth, Kiela, and Caz, as she gathered her child into her arms—Caz protected the spellbook with his leaves. Flopping, she pulled herself back into the tub with the merbaby, who instantly submerged.
“Meep?” the cactus asked.
Popping back up, the merbaby laughed, a sound like waves crashing into the sand, and Kiela smiled. “He’s all right,” she said. “We did it.”
Chapter Twenty
After helping the mermaid and the merbaby down the steps to the cove, Kiela returned to the cottage to clean up from both the storm and their unexpected visitor. While the cactus mopped the floor, using its needles to hold the towel, Kiela emptied the copper tub and hauled it back behind the privy door. She rinsed the quilts and set them out to dry on a line in the garden—they had slight singe marks from the baby’s sparks but no holes. She then helped Caz return the spellbooks to the crates and covered them with the quilts that the merbaby hadn’t used. Once the bedroom was restored to order, she examined the broken jars in the shop. To her relief, many were still intact. It had looked worse than it was, which was excellent news, considering that the spilled bloodred raspberry jam made it look a bit like a murder scene.
As soon as the glass was picked up and the floor mopped, she collapsed into bed and didn’t wake until the sun poked its way into the cottage and prodded at her closed eyelids.
The instant she was awake, she thought of the merbaby, followed by the rescued woman, and she made herself get out of bed, wash, and dress, selecting a seafoam-green skirt, a clean blouse, and her favorite boots. She wondered if there were any other storm victims and if they’d been helped.How odd,she thought. Usually when she woke, her first thought was to worry about her books.This place is changing me.She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
Both the spider plant and the cactus were already outside in the garden, cleaning up debris. Caz was using his tendrils to pick up stray twigs, while the cactus speared stray leaves with its spikes. “I’m going to check on the mermaid, then Larran, okay?” Kiela called to them. “Do either of you want to come?”
“Lots to do here, thanks.”
“Meep,” the cactus agreed.
Kiela waved to both of them. “Okay, have fun.” She wondered if the cactus was going to learn to say more words. She had no particular feel for the developmental timescale of sentient succulents.Ooh, that would made an excellent research paper.If, of course, revealing the origin of the cactus wasn’t a disastrous idea.
On her way out, she picked up one of the undamaged jars of jam. If the rescued woman was recovered enough, maybe she’d like some? Or perhaps the merbaby would? Did merfolk like jam? Had anyone ever written a research paper about the culinary likes and dislikes of merfolk? Certainly she’d never heard of any scholar, sorcerer, or librarian finding one in their bathtub.That was new.She checked the cove, but neither the mermaid nor the merbaby was there, which she took to be a good sign—they were off in the sea, which had returned to its normal state of placid indifference.
The birds were singing cheerfully as Kiela headed through the forest. She peered between the trees, looking for any sign of the forest spirits, but she didn’t see any.
She wondered if the rescued woman had woken.
She wondered if Larran had recovered from his plunge into the stormy ocean.
She wondered if Ivor was still at Larran’s house. She wasn’t sure what she’d say if he decided to ask questions about her remedies. It would be best if she could avoid him.
Maybe she should have waited longer before she left the cottage. She could have stayed and helped Caz and the cactus clean the garden and around the cottage. She could’ve made another batch of jam to replace what broke. Or she could have studied more spell-books.
Coming out of the forest, Kiela halted. Ahead of her, across the open field, the waterfall tumbled over the cliff. Half of her wanted to flee back the way she’d come.Stop it,she told herself. The healer had no proof that she’d cast any spells, and besides, the best way to avoid suspicion was to not act suspicious. It was natural for her to check up on Larran and the rescued woman.
Resolutely not looking at the waterfall, Kiela descended the stairs. She reminded herself to watch for broken steps—there had been one a third of the way down.
At exactly a third of the way down, she realized that someone had replaced all the missing steps with fresh slats of wood. Also, the railing had been mended in spots.
It had to be because of Larran. She was certain of it. It felt like something he’d do. But when? He’d been caring for the rescued woman, yet he’d taken the time to come out here and fix the stairs—For me?There was no one else who lived up beyond the cliff, except Ivor, who’d proven he had no need of stairs. She felt herself smile.
He did this for me.
It was exactly the sort of thing he’d do, an unasked-for kindness.
She’d never met anyone so full of kindness. He’d fixed the stairs, in the midst of his own exhaustion, simply because he knew she’d return down them. No one had asked him to. No one else had even thought of it. He overflowed with kindness, perhaps to a perilous degree.
Kiela kept smiling as she reached the shore and crossed the seaweed-strewn beach toward his house. The shutters had been thrown open to let the sunlight in, and the seaweed had been swept from the porch. She knocked on the door.
As she waited, she thought,I should have kissed him.She replayed the moment in her head where they’d been so close, and she felt herself begin to blush.
He didn’t answer the door.
