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Reka once again stilled completely, his expression impossible to read.
“Human?” he repeated slowly. “She lost, in effect, that part of her that was fish? Instead of becoming completely sea creature, she became completely land creature? Completely human?”
Heath nodded eagerly. “That’s right.” He watched in silence as—unless he was much mistaken—some kind of internal explosion went off in Reka’s mind. It was encouraging to see the dragon’s response tallying with his grandmother’s prediction. For a moment he debated telling Reka what his grandmother had said, but he decided against it. She’d seemed to think her speculation was dangerous, and Heath had no way of knowing how much the information might reveal to Rekavidur.
“That is…unexpected,” said Reka at last.
“For me too,” said Heath mildly. “And even more so for Merletta, I think.” He looked cautiously up at the dragon. “So, does that knowledge make you more or less inclined to return to Vazula? To see her again?”
Reka had been looking into the distance with unfocused eyes, but he now bent his gaze upon Heath.
“More,” he said decisively. “Definitely more.”
Heath bounced on his toes, barely able to contain his excitement. “Can we go right now? She’s there, on Vazula, at this minute.”
“How do you know that?” Reka asked, his eyes searching Heath’s.
“Part of the story I’m going to tell you later,” Heath said, trying to keep the impatience from his voice.
Reka nodded slowly, abstractedly. “In that case,” he said at last, “let us go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Merletta wriggled her toes in the sand, letting out a long, relieved breath of pure air. It had been far too long. She shouldn’t have let herself be frightened out of returning to Vazula for so many weeks. If there were hermits living in underwater caves well beyond the barrier, surely she could brave the patrols for one day.
She stepped across the sand, encouraged to find that she no longer needed to walk carefully. Her body remembered the movement, and she felt entirely steady on her feet. After a minute, she broke into a run, trying to mimic the way she’d seen Heath move. She didn’t feel graceful, but she covered the ground quickly, and she didn’t fall. The next thing she wanted to learn was how to jump, like Heath did when grabbing at a coconut just above his head. But all attempts had ended in her flat on her back in the sand. She needed someone to coach her.
She sighed at the thought of Heath. Of course she’d indulged the foolish hope that he’d be there to greet her, but she hadn’t really thought it likely. She had no way to communicate with him, to tell him that this was the rest day where she was leaving the triple kingdoms at last.
She strolled over to the place where they’d been reunited last time they were here. She remembered the light in Heath’s eyes as he’d seen her. His relief at her survival had been palpable, as had his amazement at her new form, but it had been more than that. She would have expected him to be astonished and fascinated by her legs. But she hadn’t been prepared for the sheer delight she’d seen in his eyes. His every feature had radiated excitement, and—did she dare to think it?—longing. As if his mind was filled with more than just their present reunion. As if he, like Merletta, was realizing the implications of her ability to live above water. Implications for their future.
But she was getting carried away with the tide. Heath had never spoken about a future between them, any more than she had. Still, it was hard to forget the way he’d stilled when she’d touched his scar. At the time, in her elation at seeing him again, she’d momentarily forgotten that he was sensitive about clothing. She’d gotten the impression the year before that it was a human trait to be self-conscious about others seeing or touching your skin. She’d always found it humorous.
Until her fingers had explored the jagged skin on his side, a souvenir of Ileana’s spear, and he’d stilled like a shrimp hypnotized by a cuttlefish. All at once she’d become hyper-aware of the warmth of his skin, and of his closeness—almost near enough for their breath to mingle—and she’d suddenly understood. Laying her hand against Heath’s skin felt intimate in a way no friendly brush of cold scales with Sage in passing, or collision of equally cool limbs in combat training, ever could. Suddenly Heath’s caution about personal space had seemed not comical but wise. And yet she’d been unable to bring herself to pull back, intoxicated by the sensation of warmth and attachment.
He’d felt something as well, she was sure of it. When he’d laid his hand over hers, and told her he wanted to protect her, his sincerity had been undeniable.
He even invited you to live in Valoria with him, reminded a hopeful voice in her mind. But she shook off the thought. Heath had been afraid for her life if she returned to the triple kingdoms, and not without reason. His offer had been another instance of his desire to keep her alive. She’d established that he didn’t want to see her die. That wasn’t the same thing as wanting a future with her.
She tried to push Heath from her mind. The opportunity of a day on the island was rare now. She would soon be submerged in preparation for her final test, and probably unable to afford the time to come. She shouldn’t waste the day mooning over the absent Heath.
She turned her eyes to the crumbling ruins visible from the beach. A thought had been growing in her mind ever since she’d seen the underwater cave with its signs of habitation. The idea that there were merpeople surviving outside the triple kingdoms had caused a vague hope to grow within her, probably as foolish as her wistful imaginings about Heath.
Her parents were supposedly dead, and they certainly weren’t in the triple kingdoms anywhere. Was it possible they’d survived outside it? She’d been told they died by drying out, the ultimate dishonor for merkind. But now she knew better about what drying out really meant. The story of her parents’ deaths might be just another malicious lie from the charity home’s head, designed to shame Merletta. But was it even the tiniest bit possible that her parents really had dried out? That they, like her, had discovered their hidden legs, and moved onto land?
Vazula was, as far as Merletta knew, the only land within easy reach of the triple kingdoms. So it wasn’t too much of a stretch to think that her parents might have come to the island if they’d gained their human forms. She didn’t think they were living there now. She’d spent a whole month on the island, not to mention her weekly visits the year before. It wasn’t large, and she was confident it was abandoned. But perhaps they’d been there once. Perhaps they’d somehow found their way somewhere else, to Heath’s kingdom, for example.
It was a slim hope, but Merletta couldn’t help indulging it. The idea of having living family was too enticing not to pursue. She remembered Heath’s stories about his own parents, his brother and sister, his power-wielding cousins, and his more distant—and magic-less—royal cousins. She sympathized with the difficult position he found himself in, given the rising tension created by his family’s magic. But privately, she’d often thought that she would give anything to have a complicated, conflict-filled family, instead of being a nameless orphan.
Most of the time when practicing her walking and running, she stayed on the familiar track between the beach and the lagoon. But this time, she turned her steps toward the ruins instead, making her way into the jungle. After a very short time, she returned to the beach, finding the place where she’d stashed Heath’s boots months ago. They were distinctly the worse for their time out in the weather, but they would still offer some protection against the debris of the jungle floor.
During her month on the island, she’d sheltered overnight in the ruins near the lagoon, and she could only guess that someone else trying to live on Vazula would also make use of the crumbling buildings. The first several that she searched showed no sign of being inhabited by anything but jungle creatures for many years. She told herself she was being foolish—even if her parents had been here, it had been sixteen years since their supposed deaths. Most likely no sign of their presence would remain.
But still, she continued on, penetrating into the heart of what had clearly once been a small city. A central square had been mostly reclaimed by the jungle, so that the location of the buildings was only identifiable by the concentration of creepers growing over them. Trees had forced their way through the ancient paving stones, and it took Merletta some time to realize that the middle of the space had once been adorned by some kind of stone sculpture.
She gazed up at it curiously, reminded of the sculpture in the middle of the market square in Hemssted. This one didn’t look like it had been carved out of an existing rock column, however. Although mossy and crumbling with age, its shape was discernible. The base formed a large basin of sorts, with a pillar rising up from the middle and branching out at varying levels. A tree had grown almost sideways along one edge of it, so that the circle wasn’t complete. But she could get the idea.
“I wonder what your function was,” she said absently to the sculpture.
