Alice

  Evening the next day, I stepped onto soil of Alar and breathed in the humid sea air deeply. I smiled to myself.

  I was here. Already I could feel the sea calling to me, recognizing me.

  Water had been my companion since childhood. It supported me, restored me, calmed me in ways nothing else could. Water told me things I'd never suspect on my own — secrets people tried to hide, emotions they buried deep. It helped me understand what lay beneath the surface. Water was my best friend, my greatest ally, my most trusted confidant.

  And the sea? The sea was something more. A wellspring of power that could help me cope with anything. Standing here on Alar’s shore, I could feel it calling to me, welcoming me home in a way the capital never quite did.

  Maybe I should have moved here permanently. With my connection to water, it would make sense. But I loved my life in the capital — the interesting studies, then Lilly, and recently, work that truly mattered to me.

  And now Raen.

  The thought came unbidden. With titanic effort, I pushed it away.

  The entire journey here, I'd cycled through the same thoughts again and again. What had happened between us. Amina's story. How Raen had supported me after my catastrophic failure at Goldspire. I hadn't slept at all. I'd desperately wanted to stop thinking about him, but it proved impossible. His hot lips kept surfacing in my memory. His ragged breathing. That dark gaze that seemed to see straight into my soul.

  I shook my head and focused on the present. I ordered transport, and twenty minutes later stood outside Grandfather's house.

  He'd bought it three years ago after Grandmother died and moved here alone. Small but solidly built by gnomes from red mountain stone, perched right on the shore with its own private beach. The perfect place for someone like me —or like Grandmother had been — to live close to the water.

  The door was unlocked. Someone was home. I left my suitcase inside and went searching.

  Light spilled from the library doorway. Of course.

  I approached silently and peered in. Grandfather sat in his favorite leather chair with an open book, slowly sipping whiskey from a heavy glass. His pipe rested on the small table beside him.

  "Hello, Grandpa."

  He looked up, surprised. "Firefly? What are you doing here?"

  I laughed, crossed to him, and sank to the carpet at his feet like I had as a child, resting my head on his knees.

  "I missed you."

  "You're skipping work?" He sounded astonished.

  I was quiet while he stroked my hair. Finally: "I was suspended."

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  His hand froze. He took my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes — and commanded, "Tell me. I want the full story. All of it."

  I sighed and moved to the chair opposite him. Then I told him everything. Well — almost everything. I left out what had happened between Raen and me in my bedroom.

  When I finished, Grandfather poured more whiskey and drank it in one swallow. He looked at me thoughtfully.

  "You know, I partly blame myself for your father's death. I should have talked to him seriously. Convinced him your gift wasn't a joke."

  "How are you to blame? My gift really is unusual. As far as I know, I'm the only one who has it. Father's disbelief was understandable."

  "I could have found a way to convince him. I should have told him the truth from the beginning." He stopped abruptly.

  "What truth?"

  Grandfather took another drink. A long one.

  "I mean... I should have found a way to make your parents believe your ability to hear water was real. You know, almost everyone in the family noticed something strange when you were four years old." He paused, studying my face. "Your eyes changed. From light blue to the color of the Alaric Sea when sunlight penetrates the depths. Just like your grandmother's. I think it's connected to your gift somehow."

  My heart beat faster. "What happened when my eyes changed?"

  Grandpa looked up and to the left, considering. "Nothing special, really. You and I were here, vacationing by the sea. But no unusual events that I can recall."

  The way he said it felt incomplete. Like he was choosing his words carefully, leaving something unsaid. But I knew better than to press him. When Grandfather decided to keep a secret, you couldn't extract it with pliers.

  "I should have been more persistent," he continued. "If I'd convinced your father about your gift earlier, he would have listened to your warnings about Armon. Would have fired him, kicked him out. But I failed."

  "We don't know that, Grandpa." My voice came out sad and tired. "We can imagine endless 'what ifs' now. What if Mom had stayed home that day. What if I hadn't run to the park. What if I'd made them listen earlier..." I stopped. "Father's death is Armon's fault. Only his. And the worst part is I threw away my only chance to get close to him again. Through my own stupidity. How to prove his guilt now — I have no idea."

  "You won't give up on this?"

  "I can't." The words came out fierce. "It's eating me alive. While that bastard walks free, I can't rest."

  Grandfather studied me for a long moment, then nodded slowly.

  "I could tell you that vengeance is what's eating you alive, not need for justice. But you need to understand that yourself." He paused, then smiled slightly. "And try giving Throne a chance. I think you pushed him away too quickly."

  Heat flooded my cheeks. "Grandpa —"

  "I'm old, Firefly. Not blind. Your mother mentioned you'd been spending time with your supervisor. Then you appear here looking like someone running from something that frightened her. Sometimes what we fear most is exactly what we need."

  I looked at my hands. "It's complicated."

  "Everything worth having is." He took a sip. "But that's not why you're really here. You came because the sea helps you think clearly. So go." He gestured toward the window, toward the rhythmic sound of waves. "Let the water work its magic. I'll be here when you're ready."

  I stood and kissed his weathered cheek. I walked through the house and out onto the private beach. The sea stretched before me, dark and vast under the dimming sky. I kicked off my shoes and stepped onto the sand, feeling it give beneath my feet.

  The moment my toes touched the water, I felt it. That familiar rush of connection, of coming home. The sea recognized me, welcomed me. Through the water I could sense everything beneath the surface — the vast life, the currents, the pulse of something deep and endless.

  I waded in deeper, letting the waves lap at my calves, my knees. Closed my eyes and simply listened.

  The water had always told me the truth. About people's emotions. About their hidden fears and secret hopes. Maybe it could help me understand my own truth too.

  What was I really running from? Armon's justice — or the terrifying possibility of letting Raen in?

  And what had happened here when I was four years old? What had changed me, turned my eyes this impossible color, given me this strange gift that no one else seemed to share?

  The waves whispered around me, but tonight they offered no answers. Only questions. Only the deep, patient certainty that when I was ready — truly ready — the truth would find me.