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39

DREDGING FOR FRIENDS LOST

T he next morning, I lay under my carved canopy and studied the relief engraved there--a woman in a garden, scantily clad, oblivious to the man watching her from behind a tree. It made me wonder where Tearloch was hiding, and I went to find him, slipping into a robe before pulling the velvet curtain aside. I was beginning to understand what Griffon had meant when he said he and Lennon hadn't needed eternity to find perfection. As it happened, perfection was not as elusive as I'd expected.

The question was—what came after perfection?

I supposed the answer included time to enjoy it. And to find that time, I needed a conversation with Moire.

When I stepped out of the bedchamber and didn’t immediately see Tearloch, my heart jumped and ran in my chest like it was being chased. The lack of control I had over it upset me, and I had to sit down and inhale deeply to calm myself.

Nothing is wrong. No one took him. We’re safe now. Ciro is dead. Ciro is dead.

My attention caught on a small, tented paper on the table. It was a note from Tearloch. Gone to speak with Griffon. Will return soon.

My relief was instant. At least Moire hadn’t come and snatched him from our bed.

The morning meal came while he was out, along with three arms’ full of clothing that had been chosen on my behalf. My appetite surprised me, but then I remembered the meals I’d missed and prayed I’d live long enough to make up for them.

Someone in the palace was paying attention, and a second tray for Tearloch arrived soon after the first. I ate my fill, and when he still hadn’t returned, I went hunting for something to wear. I was relieved I wouldn’t have to wear that gown of dragon-purple again, or the small crown that made me someone I was not. Besides, I’d lost the latter in the dirt when Skullcrusher had tried to shake me loose.

No apprentice robes were among my choices. I supposed it was time I left that part of my life behind me.

I let my robe fall from my shoulders and jumped when I realized I was no longer alone. Tearloch stood just inside the curtain with his shoulder leaned against the wall. He wore a rich green shirt that suited his dark coloring and brought out his eyes. Over that, a black textured vest hung to his knees where a pair of buff-colored trousers were tucked into dark leather boots.

His eyes were lit with mischief, as was his smile. “If you plan to petition Moire for an audience, I suggest you avoid the trousers.” He was right. There was a set of trousers there, along with a pair of straps to hold them up and a tightly woven shirt. “Women don’t usually wear them, but someone must have thought you would want options.”

“Maybe it was my short hair that swayed them.”

“Nothing wrong with your hair. Nothing wrong with you at all. You choose anything you like and let Hestia adjust to you… my heart.”

“My heart?”

“Don’t mind me. I’m trying to decide what I should call you. My phoenix?”

“How about Asper?”

While I held a rich yellow gown against me and studied it in the mirror, he came away from the wall and crept up behind me. His lips brushed my shoulder, and I shivered. “What about in the whispering hours, love? What shall I call you then? Cherub?”

I laughed. “Never that.”

“What if I just call you mine?”

My insecurities slipped out of my mouth. “Am I yours? Do you really mean to stay with me?” I threw up my hands. “I don’t know how to do this…bonding business. Very little is written?—”

He spun me around and interrupted my lips with a kiss. I sensed he’d meant it to be brief, but it didn’t work out that way. And we were still kissing when someone knocked on the outer door.

Tearloch helped me back into my robe and suggested I answer it, since it was my room. I took my time, hoping my blushing face might return to its normal temperature before I reached the door.

As soon as I lifted the latch, the pale wood was pushed open and all our friends paraded in. Minkin and Bain carried tall bottles. Sweetie balanced a large tray covered in bowls with one hand while eating with the other. It still shocked me to see him without his horns. Lennon followed with more bottles, and Griffon brought a tray of tall goblets of colored glass.

"I hope you don't mind," Minkin said. "We thought we should hold some ritual for Morrow, Dower and Kivi."

I nodded. "And Huxor."

"And Huxor." She smiled approvingly and set her bottles on a low table centered between half a dozen stuffed chairs. "Nowhere seemed appropriate, so..."

"Private rooms for a private ceremony. Very fitting."

When Tearloch emerged from the bedchamber, they all pretended not to be surprised.

Bain forced a smile. "We're going to get dredged." The glaze over his eyes said he’d already gotten started.

"Here, here!" Sweetie pulled the cork from a bottle and poured the contents into the goblets.

Griffon passed them around until we all had one in hand. "Dredged indeed. They would have expected no less."

Tearloch took a sip. "Now that we are in a relatively safe place, and no one will need to stand watch..." Everyone laughed as he downed the rest of his drink in two gulps, then refilled it.

Bain lifted his glass high. "To Dower!"

"To Dower," we repeated, then drank.

I choked, surprised by the bite on my tongue from such an innocent looking liquid.

Everyone chuckled, but Lennon had the same look on her face. "What is this?"

Tearloch rolled his eyes at me, surprised by yet another gap in my education. “At least Lennon isn’t expected to know. It’s called bite —fermented parfruit."

"Bite is right. Must be an acquired taste."

"Here." Tearloch took her goblet and pulled another cork from a bottle with a different shape, then gave her a sample in a clean mug. "Try this. Slowly."

She sucked in a deep breath, then tasted. She smiled and hummed, but after she swallowed, she gasped for air. Griffon pounded her on the back a few times, then took a gulp of the new brew. Though he tried to fight it, he too gasped for breath.

"Back home," he wheezed, "we call that whisky."

I was surprised when Lennon held out her glass for more. Then she raised it high, as Bain had done. "To Kivi!"

"To Kivi!"

Again, I choked. Tearloch took my bite and emptied my glass, then he put in a little of the new. To delay tasting it, I lifted my glass. "And to Morrow."

"To Morrow."

Tearloch grew somber then. He looked at Minkin, Sweetie, and Bain. They shared sad smiles and a thousand memories the rest of us would never hear about. Then he raised his glass, his voice low and reverent. "To the Huxor we lost along the way."

"To the Huxor we lost along the way."

Tears for their old friend streamed unheeded down their cheeks. My tears were for them.

Bain picked up the second bottle, filled his glass to the rim, then passed it on. "Must dredge faster."

Later, when there was more humming and hiccuping than conversation and the ache in my head was nowhere to be found, Sweetie placed his elbow on his knee and rested his chin on his hand while he watched Minkin dance near the window. "Minkin, my love."

"Mmm?" She kept dancing but spared him a glance every time she turned a full circle.

"You're beautiful, but you're not very clever."

She laughed. "Cleverer than you, my love."

He scoffed, but never lifted his head. "If that is so, why is it I know we are heartbound and you do not?"

"You are mistaken." She finished her dance with a flourish of her long fingers and a bow. While the rest of us applauded, she moved to stand in front of Sweetie and pushed his shoulders back before climbing into his lap. "I've waited a long while for you to catch on."

His eyes widened. "You knew?"

"All along."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Some secrets are sweeter the longer you keep them."

He scowled. "So...I have ruined your secret. You wished to keep it longer?"

"Stop your fretting. I promise you, this, right now, is as sweet as it can possibly get." Then she kissed him.

Floating in my little daze, I couldn't tear my eyes away. But when Minkin finally pulled back, they both gasped for breath, and she giggled.

He blinked rapidly. "I did that wrong."

"We both did."

"Let's try again."

"Yes.” Minkin hiccuped. “Only this time, we must remember to breathe."

I suddenly felt the need to do some practicing, but Tearloch leaned on the far arm of his chair to my right, frowning while Griffon gave him the history of his father, Moire, and their seven daughters. I suspected the man I loved was asleep with his eyes open.

At the far end of the room, Bain lay beneath the window, curled into a ball and snoring. A delicate breeze ruffled the leaves on the far side of the glass, as if the spirits of his brothers tried to get his attention...

On my left, slumped halfway out of her chair, Lennon carried on a conversation with her slippers. Or maybe she was speaking to Kivi. I didn’t understand a word. It sounded something like, “We totally should have brought Wickham.”

My little family of friends were well and truly dredged. Our mourning had commenced. The next step of our lives could wait…