It was a chilling thought that whatever fate lay ahead for the world, I might have no choice but to be a passive spectator.
I stilled my mind again before I could sink back into despondency, my attention refocusing on the glowing horizon. As the minutes passed, the radiant ball of fire lifted higher and higher until it rose up fully from behind the waves. And it brought with it… an unexpected sense of comfort. As hopeless as my situation seemed, each day was a new beginning. Who knew exactly what the future held for me? Maybe it wouldn’t be as hopeless as I feared. Maybe I wouldn’t end up like Ernest, six hundred years from now sitting in some dingy guesthouse, wedded to the fantasies of strangers. Maybe the universe had something else in store for me. I didn’t know what now, but hadn’t I at least made some progress? I’d discovered that I could inhabit animals. I wasn’t wholly locked out of the physical world… though I didn’t believe I could ever be wholly in it. Barely even partially in it.
What kind of life can one live through an animal?
I wasn’t sure where I belonged now. My soul still felt bound to my home, The Shade, as though I were tied to it by some invisible tether. But I needed to leave, at least for a while. I needed to try to discover more about this strange half-life.
I felt another pang as I thought of River. Of the last interaction I’d had with her. She’d planted a gentle kiss on the griffin’s face, and I’d been able to feel it. Then she’d hurried away, but glanced over her shoulder before turning the corner, allowing me to take in her beautiful face, her deep turquoise gaze, one last time.
At least I wasn’t concerned about her and my family’s safety any more. Jeramiah and his witch were out of The Shade now, and I doubted the island would have any more intruders ever again after the extreme measures they were putting into place. With the already strong presence of the dragons, they were making the island a fortress. They didn’t need me hanging around to play security guard—and a rather useless one at that.
I leaned my head back and gazed up at the heavens.
My spirit isn’t made for this world, this human dimension… and maybe not even the supernatural realm either. I’m here by artificial means alone. The thought chilled me, and I instinctively wanted to repel it, but… I couldn’t help but wonder what Arron had really meant that night he’d handed me the vial of blue liquid that would keep me in this world.
“There is a place beyond death for all of us, whether we be humans, or supernaturals… But most aren’t willing to find out,” the Hawk had told me.
What is that place where spirits naturally go after death? Those who don’t stay behind?
I didn’t have the first clue. Arron had been so cryptic that evening, and I hadn’t been brought up in any particular faith or religion, so I had no pre-formed beliefs of my own.
There was only thing that I could assume:
It was somewhere far, far away.
Derek
Thoughts of my nephew still weighed heavily on my mind, even as I went about organizing a complete overhaul of the island’s security. My disappointment in him was fast turning to anger. But the strange thing was, as livid as I was with him for what he’d done to Kailyn, I felt almost madder for a different reason.
Why did he have to turn out like a carbon copy of my brother?
Why couldn’t he be even a little bit original?
I just couldn’t let the thought go that we could have come to an understanding with Jeramiah. Even if we didn’t become close, we could have parted on agreeable terms. It would have been symbolic of a reconciliation I’d never gotten with my brother and father, whose unceremonious departures from this world still hit a nerve in me even after all these years.
Still, I was accustomed to having a lot on my mind while still being forced to go about the runnings of the island. Within a matter of days, I had not only rid The Shade of the mermaid infestation, but also instituted a whole new set of rigid security procedures—procedures that, with hindsight, we should have introduced years ago, but which we’d always ended up putting off due to not only members of my Council, but also a high proportion of our citizens, protesting over what a severe inconvenience it would be to all of us. Jeramiah’s antics, however, had been the final straw. I didn’t even bother to consult the Council. I had a brief discussion with Sofia before relaying my orders.
It had actually been with the dragons’ help, rather than our witches’, that we had finally freed our shores of the merfolk threat. The thought had occurred to me to ask if the fire-breathers enjoyed the taste of mer-flesh. Jeriad, whose eye had recovered thanks to Ibrahim’s expertise, had informed me that many of them had never tasted it before, but all of them were willing to give it a go. And so, a horde of about fifty dragons shifted into their beastly forms and dipped into the ocean. As creatures of fire, I hadn’t known if they liked water, but it didn’t seem to bother them—“Water is fine. It’s ice that we despise,” Jeriad had informed me.
The dragons swam through the waves, their long, scaly backs and tails reminding me of crocodiles as they floated near the water’s surface. Within the space of a day, the dragons had circled the island dozens of times and by the time night fell, they confirmed that every single merfolk had either been eaten or fled for fear of their lives. Each of the dragons even thanked me personally for suggesting such a delicacy as they emerged from the ocean and returned to their mountain chambers. Now we could raise the temporary boundary that had lined our beaches and prevented entrance to the water, though of course, the main boundary that enclosed the island along with its immediate surrounding waters would remain, stronger than ever.