Page 17

The seagulls were squawking. Waves were crashing, and the sun was shining.

Lune awoke to find his face nested into his pillow, and he had no recollection of how he got here.

Was it possible Narsus had carried him to bed?

The thought of Narsus’s large hands on him made his cheeks go rosy, and he shook off the delicious, giddy shiver.

There was a brief disappointment that he was still fully dressed. But baby steps.

Tucking hair behind his ears, a gleam of metal caught his eye. His joy instantly fizzled. His compass was on the nightstand.

Lune didn’t need to look to know an eighth jewel had gone dark. He could sense the hollow emptiness of it now.

The closer he got to Narsus emotionally, the compass’s warning would only wrap around his heart with more urgency. But he worried bringing it up would crush the courage Narsus was just starting to find.

Lune also worried about dumping too many expectations on his Intended at one time. Narsus was just starting to accept their Compass-pairing, and learning to be kind—especially to himself. Lune so desperately wanted Narsus to be kind to himself. To forgive himself.

He also wanted to tell Narsus that there was a chance his siren form made him immune to that magnificent verdant flame. And that he was having a bit of a learning curve summoning up his tails again.

He’d have to play these issues by ear.

More importantly, they had to discuss exactly when and where Narsus had discarded the compass.

There were so many possibilities of its location.

It could be wedged between the rocks. Or be in pieces.

It could be buried in the sediment by the force of the current, or entangled in a bed of seaweed.

Where ever it was, together they’d find it.

Lune turned, ready to knock politely upon the bundling board. It was imperative they start the day renewing their budding relationship.

But Narsus’s side of the bed was empty.

There was a note on the pillow. Lune grabbed it.

Dear Lune,

Ah gods, last night, you gave me a heart and soul I will greedily guard forever. Your tenderness and devotion isn’t something I deserve, but I will work hard to earn your forgiveness. I know I’ll be forever groveling for my massive mistake. I’ve stained not just myself, but us.

The fault is mine that I might have permanently destroyed what has brought us together. All because of my previously identified self-worth. The guilt is something I will live with to the end of my days.

The only thing I want more than waking up beside you every day, is to find my compass. I dream of being able to touch you without barriers. To feel the coolness of your skin, even though we both know it cannot be.

You know where I’ve gone. I will return just after nightfall.

Yours, Narsu s

Lune bowed his head and pressed the letter against his temple.

Not knowing if he should be flattered at the sweetly awkward attempt at romance.

Or be angry. Narsus had gone off without him, again, frantically searching for what he’d foolishly thrown away.

Determined to fix the tragic mistake he’d made, without help from anyone.

If Lune had known where Narsus had lost it, he would’ve just set out to join him. When would his dear, adorable little bird-brain phoenix-mate understand it no longer had to be that way? What Narsus said about touch was disconcerting. But Lune put that dilemma aside for another time.

When Narsus returned, they would have words.

Because the letter hinted at that dark something sprouting from those Compass-jewels.

In the meantime, he’d have to keep busy instead of sitting here worrying and stewing.

Carefully folding the note, Lune slipped it into a drawer atop the ones Calico had written him.

Throwing on some fresh clothes, he found he had the house to himself. A note on the kitchen table told that Brightside and Cinder had taken the farmer’s recommendation to visit the next town over. Probably for that fancy bookstore. So he knew they’d probably left by sun up.

That left him free for the rest of the day.

Which brought his thoughts back to Narsus. He should do something to cushion the harsh words he had for his fated mate, but what?

A present. A seashell. A green turbo shell he’d take to the jeweler to polish. He’d have to pay extra for the rush work, of course. He’d have to hurry himself, if he was going to get back before Narsus.

He sprinted out of the beach house and into the water.

The bubbles of his dive rose, bouncing and popping.

The muted hums of the ocean itself alive within him, churning, vibrating.

Above, the muffled realm of the dry world grew dimmer.

When he reached the bottom, the vibrations of the depths sharpened as he adjusted to his natural element.

The sensations tickled his skin, further awakening his aquatic senses.

Lune froze. A flashback of the shark attack in his youth throttled his progress.

A tinge of fear spread through him. Quickly, he plucked a tie from his pocket to anchor the hair away from his face and gills.

Then looked out into the surrounding waters.

Still nothing. His shoulders relaxed. Just traces of past trauma messing with his head.

Lune pulled himself along the sandy floor and found a sharp rock, just in case. It was better than nothing, and he couldn’t allow his fears to stop him. Because Narsus needed him. His Intended was trying so hard. Lune wondered what more he could do to reassure his mate.

Gifting the shell as a wedding present came to mind. Lune’s eagerness and excitement made him quiver. It would need to be of a good size and color. One with at least three whorls, or sections, to represent the stages of their struggles—Narsus’s struggles.

Searching among the corals and crevices brought him many specimens, but they weren’t quite right.

Either too small, or after a thorough examination, wouldn’t be green after a polish.

As he went along, he sustained himself by cracking oysters and choking down the gross, slimy meat.

He hated eating it, but his body was made for it, and there was no way he’d waste time by breaching the surface to get a more palatable meal.

Time passed quickly, and the hour was getting late.

If he couldn’t find Narsus’s gift today— there!

At the entrance of a crevice. It was a rough and gritty shell about the size of his palm.

Covered in algae, so it would need extra attention.

He picked it up, judging the color. Then examining the aperture for the snail.

Empty. Possibly eaten by an eel or crab .

As if it had given up its life to belong to Narsus.

It seemed fitting for the son of the undead phoenix god. A destined tribute.

It was perfect.

Lune hurried back to the surface, racing into town in sopping wet clothes.

With assistance from magic, the crafter worked his skills about the shell.

Lune watched each step, in essence, putting a little of himself into the process.

From the first initial scrubbing. To the dousing with a cleansing acid.

Washing and drying. Filing, grinding, sanding.

Buffing and polishing it with mineral oils.

Lune’s excitement bubbled as the textures and patterns emerged. A mid-tone green color was prominent. Thin lines of a rust-red brown accented the shell. As if to declare that Narsus’s undead heritage had merged into his Verdigris one.

For a final touch, Lune requested a pearly band carved into the shell’s pattern. With a final polish, it was ready. Complementary wrapping was accepted. With the sun already dipped into the ocean and dusk falling, Lune rushed home.