“Just to share a friendly word of advice,” Iovar said to Dax, “as one who has been where you appear to be now…” Marin tensed,not knowing what was going to come out of Iovar’s mouth, wanting to shove her fists into his mouth, not wanting to cause her parents any more pain by causing a scene, not wanting to make them worry that she was still hurting and still capable of being hurt by him. Iovar leaned closer to Dax. “She’s not worth it.”
That hit like a fist to her heart.
Iovar continued, conversationally, as if helping out a buddy. “You’ll sacrifice for her, and she’ll only make you smaller. You’ll give up dreams for her, and she won’t replace them. I know your reputation, Daxicend. You’re a rising star. You don’t want to tie yourself to a supply runner who runs the second there are any hard choices to be made.”
Shemadehimsmaller? He was the one who… He’d demanded she give up her dreams. He wanted her small, in a box, only speaking and feeling and thinking what he wanted her to speak, feel, and think. She wished she knew the words to strike back just as hard. He was a snake. A worm. A weasel who sneaked into the henhouse and slaughtered birds for fun. Her fists were clenched, and she tried to think of what to say.
And then Dax laughed.
The sudden brightness of it startled Marin—and shocked Iovar.
Still laughing, Dax shook his head. “You just didn’t know how to make her happy.” He clapped Iovar on the shoulder. “It’s okay. She’s a symphony, and not everyone understands how special that is.”
Iovar sputtered. “She’s—”
“I know it’s hard to realize the truth, especially for a man like yourself, a man of business, to accept that you will never be what she deserves, to know you’ll never be enough.” Dax then turned to Marin and held out his hand. The bells on his sleeves chimed with the movement. “I don’t know if I can ever be either, but I’m determined to try.”
She stared at him for a moment and then, dazed, she took his hand.
He led her into the center of the square. Around them, the dancersswirled and stomped and laughed and embraced and then danced more, all the bells ringing simultaneously from ankles and arms.
She didn’t look back at Iovar. She could imagine him fuming. The one thing a man like Iovar couldn’t stomach was being called out as small and lesser rate.
“Dax…” Marin didn’t know what to say. That was… amazing. And kind. And it had been enormously satisfying, even if her family was still monumentally screwed.
“He’s a weasel,” Dax said.
“He is,” she agreed vehemently. “But I’m not a symphony.”
“You absolutely are. An extraordinary symphony,” he said. “Dance?”
Holding hands, they spun together in the center of all the dancers, and she tried to focus on this moment, not Iovar and his impossible deadline, not on the coming disaster, while the winged cats watched from the rooftops, and the stars and the moon watched from above.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The cat wanted to stay.
Dax carried him to the boat twice. Each time, as soon as Stowy was set down on the deck, he’d spread his wings and fly back to Marin’s parents’ house. The first time he landed on the table in the garden. The second time he perched on the roof.
“I think he likes it here,” Marin said.
“I’m getting that impression,” Dax said. He put his hands on his hips and looked up at the roof. “I’m trying not to take it personally.”
“He did just experience his first fish feast.”
“Yes, but that won’t happen every day,” Dax said. “It was a special occasion.”
“My parents will make sure he has as much fish as he wants, as well as other treats,” Marin said.For as long as they can.She felt a pang looking up at the orange cat on the roof. He wasn’t the brightest cat she’d ever encountered, but he was sweet, and he’d been a part of their crew, however temporary. He’d be happy here, though—it was a happy place—at least until the debt came due.
Once that happened… She’d seen it before: to pay off a debt, the bank would claim whatever it deemed equivalent value. In her parents case, it wouldn’t be their old, unenchanted boat. It would be their home. If she couldn’t come up with a miracle, then in two short months, they’d be forced to leave their beloved cottage and peachtrees and view, to walk away from all the memories sunken into the walls and the earth, to rely on the kindness of others for a place to sleep until they could cobble enough together to rent a room somewhere, perhaps not even on Flicker. And through it all, Iovar would simply look as if he was doing his job, protecting the interests of his client.
Between them, Ree said forlornly, “Maybe Stowy just didn’t want to be a sailor.”
“It should be his choice what dreams he chases,” Marin said. “Even if he’s just chasing fish feasts.”
Carrying a basket, Pa bustled out of the kitchen. The basket was covered with a checkered cloth and looked to be bursting with jars and parcels, definitely pie, despite the fact that they’d already had peach pie for breakfast—the very best breakfast. “A few treats for your journey.” He kissed Marin on the cheek and then kissed Dax on the cheek as well, which made Marin’s eyebrows shoot up. He’d certainly never done that with Iovar, even before they knew he was not the man he’d seemed to be.
“Thank you, this is wonderful, but Pa, we need to talk about—”
