Page 13 of Goldilocks (Salt and Starlight #2)

A noise woke Sam. And as he yawned and stretched out, he realised the noise wasn’t braying seagulls; it was voices, growing fainter as they receded into the distance, footsteps echoing off a hard surface. Sam jerked upright.

Voices? Footsteps?

He scrambled to his feet. Had someone come across him? A tourist boat? He shouldn’t have stayed on open water. He should have just – was he docked? Had someone towed him in?

Sam leaned against his cabin doorframe and startled to find a person sitting on the chest that pressed against the outer cabin wall.

“What…” Sam blinked in surprise, his mind totally blanking. It was Devil. Devil in a loose white shirt. Devil in trousers. “What?”

Devil’s gaze moved from Sam’s eyes, down his body. Sam heated, realising that all he had on were his boxers. “Why are we at the dock? Did Connor tow us in?” Sam peered out, looking for the marker. And his mind blanked again.

The pier they were next to was low in the water, an unfamiliar dark-wash brick. There was one other boat tied further down the pier. It was twice the size of Sam’s boat, entirely wooden, with large canvas sails. They were in a cove, dark-grey rocks that matched the colour of the pier cutting in from the shoreline to leave only a small gap in the middle for ships to fit through. Grey rock lined the shore, and beyond that was unfamiliar vegetation of brilliant jewelled greens. The ocean was a deep blue with the sun shining brightly upon it from a cloudless sky, and boats with white sails dotted the horizon. Even from a distance, Sam could see they were bulkier vessels than Sam was accustomed to, and all their bodies were wooden.

“What are we doing in your world?” Sam’s voice came out strangled.

Devil stood. And Sam blinked in surprise once more because Devil was taller than him by several inches. After watching him so long from above as he swam in the waters below, having to look up to meet his eyes was jarring. Devil stepped in front of Sam, offering a bundle of cloth. It unfurled into a long, golden robe.

“Turn,” Devil instructed. His voice was smooth, a pleasant yet surprising depth to it. Something shifted in Sam’s head. Devil was the hissing, demanding creature that swam around his boat. Standing tall before him was no Devil. It was Goldilocks.

Bewildered, Sam turned and let himself be guided into the robe. He warmed as Goldilocks’s hands slid across his waist, arms bracketing his body as he tied a sash at the front. The robe was soft like air, falling just beneath his knees.

“It is spider silk,” Goldilocks said. “It pleases you?”

“I…guess? Yes? It’s soft.” Sam twisted. “What’s going on?”

“Come.”

Goldilocks walked to the railing, and he waited there, lifting his hand. Palm up. An invitation.

Sam’s heart raced in his chest.

“Is Connor here?”

Goldilocks tilted his head, gaze losing focus. After a moment he said, “No.”

Sam remained rooted in place. Asking about another world, hearing Laurence and Connor talk about what they found out here, was entirely different from being here. Sam had been curious. Of course he had. But he was curious about it the same way he was about skydiving; it was an activity for thrill seekers, not sensible fishermen.

Sam surveyed the open ocean again. He didn’t see The Tear, nor the usual mist that obscured it. He didn’t see anything at all in that direction. Keeping a cap on his panic, he turned to face the other direction. Across a wide bay, there was land. Occupying the bay was a large harbour packed with ships, and kissed against it was a settlement that sprawled its way up a large hill with buildings of colourful red and orange brick that climbed higher and higher until they reached a precipice where a large castle perched. Ireland had many old castles of dark-grey brick, but this one, while similar in shape, differed in colour. It shone a brilliant white, like chalked cliffs.

“Sam.” Goldilocks recaptured his attention. “Breakfast grows cool.” He took Sam’s hand in his and guided him with a tug to the edge of the boat. Sam followed him onto the pier, the dark stone warm against the soles of his feet. His boat was already tied to the dock, and when Sam stooped to test the knot, he found it secure. He advanced another few steps with Goldilocks before he stopped.

“I have to lock it.”

“None will touch it,” Goldilocks assured him.

Sam followed the line of the pier to land. It led directly to a villa of large yellow, orange and red brick walls and a many-layered roof of bright red tiles. A row of yellow and orange columns lined the front of the villa, chairs and loungers scattered in the shade of a large seaside porch. Numerous potted plants, with vibrant flowers of every colour, decorated the space.

It was an assault of colour that Sam adored; never before had Sam docked his boat somewhere the colourfully painted hull would blend in.

Sam studied the surrounding land next. What looked like a road appeared from behind the villa and led toward the distant settlement, but aside from that, wild vegetation dominated; there were no other buildings.

Sam once more dragged his eyes across the horizon line. “Which direction is The Tear?”

“West,” Goldilocks answered.

Sam followed the direction of his nod, orientating himself in his hand. Opposite the direction of the settlement, beneath the bright sun.

Goldilocks’s hand slipped to Sam’s wrist, where his grip tightened. Sam finally dragged his gaze back to Goldilocks, meeting his eyes. “You are safe,” Goldilocks said. “You are with me.”

Sam’s bewilderment probably came off as fear. “I know,” Sam said. And he truly believed it too.

When Goldilocks stepped forward, this time, Sam walked with him. He heard a footstep from behind. Sam peered over his shoulder. From the shadow of the other docked boat came a man. A man who had a long, thin tail of sage green lashing behind him, soft tufts jutting out at the tapered tip like the fletching of an arrow. A sheathed sword was strapped to his hip, and he moved it aside as he crouched next to Sam’s boat, head cocked to the side as he peered at it. A long plait of brown hair ran down the full length of his back.

“Who is he?” Sam asked.

“Jasper. He guards the villa grounds,” Goldilocks said.

The pier attached directly onto the villa’s porch. Goldilocks led him straight through the open archway into the building. They entered an open room. A large pool of water dominated the middle of the floor, a perfect square that mirrored the room’s shape. The pool was deep; black encompassing it before he could see the bottom.

“It leads to the ocean,” Goldilocks explained. “For convenience. My sister’s mate spent many decades building this nest.”

“Right,” Sam said absently. He was too busy looking around himself, peering at the square skylight cut into the ceiling and left empty, exposing the room to the outdoors. Heavy tapestries adorned the walls. Some depicted the ocean and sea life; most had a mermaid central to them. She had a golden tail, golden hair. “Your sister?” Sam could tell immediately.

“Belle,” Goldilocks confirmed. “Come.”

Sam followed.

There was a statue in the next room: a life-size mermaid carved in pale yellow stone, half submerged in a pool of water. Another arched doorway led them outside once more. A garden brimming with brilliant colours surrounded them. Trees and bushes and flowers crowded the outdoor space. Sam breathed deeply, in aromatic bliss. A stone path weaved its way artfully through the flowers, leading first to another pool, this one round rather than square, and then to a table.

Two people were sitting at the table, and Sam saw that there was cutlery laid out for two more.

Goldilocks tugged him forward, and Sam followed, dazed as the two individuals at the table studied him on his approach. He studied them back.

The woman was beautiful. Inky black hair contrasted with ivory-white skin, and a velvet red dress hugged her figure. Sheer black gloves covered her hands, reaching past her elbows. She could have been twenty or forty, Sam couldn’t tell. The man next to her had grey hair and tanned skin clearly accustomed to sunlight. He offered Sam a smile.

“Red hair?” The woman broke the silence, surprising Sam with English. “It is pretty.”

“Yes,” Goldilocks agreed. He encouraged Sam into the seat opposite the woman and took the chair on Sam’s immediate left.

“Thank you,” Sam replied, speaking on autopilot.

The woman continued her examination, peering closely at Sam’s face. “Green eyes are pretty too,” she said.

“Yes,” Goldilocks agreed again.

Should Sam compliment her back? But she didn’t even really say it as a compliment. More as a flat statement. Sam looked to Goldilocks, hoping for some indication of how he should act.

“My name is Yven,” the man introduced himself. “I am an administrator for the city across the bay.”

“I’m Sam. Nice to meet you.”

Yven’s eye twitched. He mouthed Sam’s words back to himself. “I apologise. I do not know the word ‘samnice’. Roan, could you—”

Goldilocks’s top lip curled up, an animalistic snarl rising from his chest.

Yven ducked his head. “Apologises. Goldilocks. Forgive the mistake.”

Goldilocks’s growl ceased. “‘Sam’ is his name,” he explained after a pause. “‘Nice’ is—” The next word out of Goldilocks’s mouth was unfamiliar, and Sam assumed he was giving the translation.

“I understand. Sam, it is nice to meet you also,” Yven said. He lifted his head. “I am still learning your language, so please forgive any mistakes.”

What mistakes?

“Sam,” the woman repeated. She leaned in to peer at his face again. “I like those little dots on your nose.”

“Yes,” Goldilocks agreed.

What the hell was this? Yven cast a faintly bemused look at the three of them.

“My freckles?”

“Ha. ‘Freckles’. I love that. There’s a spotted eel living in the tunnels. We will call him that. Freckles.” The woman leaned back in her seat, and she lifted her hand, waving at the empty air. “You can call me Vi. I am Belle’s mate.”