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“It’s the northernmost point of the island, yes.”
“Will he make it?” I’m almost too afraid to hear the answer.
“He’s come this far. He has to,” the prof replies firmly.
The journey is slow, every step filled with caution. Reef’s breathing is shallow, and I hold my own breath, fearing any sudden decline.
When we reach the car, I release a sigh of relief. The journey should be a little easier now.
“Should I stay, pack some bags?” Cove asks as we settle Reef onto the back seat and I climb in beside him.
“No,” the prof replies firmly. “We all stick together now and make do. The safe house is reasonably well stocked. We’ll manage.”
Bhodi takes the front passenger seat and Cove climbs into the back with me, pulling me into his lap so that Reef has room to stretch out. The professor drives cautiously but quickly, only slowing down when we pass through Two Harbours.
“Shouldn’t we take Reef to see the doc?” I ask, recognising the signpost for hercampground.
“No. We need to get somewhere safe. Reef will be fine with some rest.”
He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself, so I say nothing and turn back to Reef. His eyes are closed, his breathing laboured, and there’s sweat on his brow from the exertion of getting off the beach.
Cove slips his hand into mine and squeezes, giving me strength. I can’t fall apart right now. Reef still needs me.
When we reach the dilapidated lighthouse, we settle Reef onto a bed, surrounded by the remnants of forgotten times. The space is sparse but functional, clean, and stocked with basics. It will do.
The professor swiftly sets wards in place, ensuring our temporary sanctuary remains hidden from prying eyes. The faint glow of magical protection fills the air, offering a modicum of safety.
Bhodi fetches water and supplies from the small kitchen area, tending to Reef’s immediate needs while the professor joins me at his side. We exchange a solemn glance, a silent acknowledgment of the risks we faced tonight and the urgency of our next steps.
He understands.
Reef’s breathing steadies, and colour begins to return to his cheeks. The wounds that marred his body slowly close, a testament to his own healing powers, bolstered by the surge of magic that brought him back from the brink.
My surge of magic.
I didn’t know I had it in me. I have no idea what I did or how I did it, but I’m grateful that the pain of losing Reef had unlocked something in me that was able to save him.
Remaining by his side, my hand gently grasping his, I pour all the love and strength I possess into him. Though the danger still looms, I refuse to let fear consume me.
Reef stirs, his gaze meeting mine once more. A weak smile tugs at his lips, and he whispers, “Thank you, Malia.”
A rush of gratitude fills me, and I lean closer, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “You don’t have to thank me, Reef. We’ll get through this. Together. Sleep now.”
The beach is deserted in the storm. It’s not one I’ve been to before, and it gives me weird vibes. Like there’s some powerful force trying to keep me away, but at the same time, something invisible is drawing me in.
It reminds me of when we were in school and had to walk down Conscience Alley for English lessons. Classmates would stand on either side of me and offer advice to the protagonist in my ear. Good and bad. Push and pull. Whispers on the wind telling me to go, and in the next breath, urging me to stay.You don’t belong here. This is home. Run away. Come to us.
It’s so confusing.
“Malia? What are you doing out here?” The professor asks, coming to stand by my side, his voice filled with concern. We’ve been at the lighthouse for a few days now, and watching Reef slowly recover has been driving me insane. I just need fresh air. Space. Solitude.
I should have known one of them would never be too far away.
I turn to him, my expression serious as I take a deep breath, the storm’s wind whipping through my hair. “Professor, I need to talk to you. It’s important.”
His brow furrows, and he nods, motioning for us to seek shelter at the foot of the lighthouse. We find a relatively dry spot under the protection of the gallery deck, and I glance out at the turbulent sea, the waves crashing against the shore with a ferocity that mirrors the turmoil within me.
“Professor,” I begin, my voice steady but tinged with an undercurrent of determination, “I’ve made up my mind. I...I’m willing to sacrifice myself for the prophecy.”
