Page 89 of Sea's Secret

I was free of Veeto; I had a ship; I did want to save my sister, but I was starting to wonder if I needed to save her for the same reasons as before. There used to be a piercing pain in my heart whenever I thought about Peter and my mother, a pain more acute than all the others. It had, somehow, become less sharp, less painful, and more like a bruise or an ache. I looked down at Meria. She was so beautiful, standing there in men's clothing, her hair tied back by that braid. I would gladly have braided her hair every single day; it was incredibly pleasant. For during the time that I was braiding her hair, the pain within me disappeared–just like it always did whenever I was near her or touched her. I still wondered how that could be, but it had to be because she was a mermaid. Nothing else made sense.

“I like it much better than the dry air, but it makes me want to swim,” she whispered even closer to me. I pictured her beautiful turquoise tail. It was a similar shade to some of the warmer waters I had traveled. She was beautiful–remarkable.

“It is thicker–” I trailed off as Peter called from ahead.

“She’s here!” he shouted, and all of us started running to meet up with him. He was bending over something that was on the muddy ground. Picking it up, he wiped it off with the front of his white shirt and held it up.

“This is one of her books,” Peter said with enthusiasm.

“Anyone could have that book–” I began but stopped myself as I looked into Peter's eyes, once filled with bright hope, then growing dim from my words.

“Let's keep looking,” I said with a grunt as Peter stuck the book in the bag at his side.

We walked for a while, and I wasn't sure we would find anything more. Was it possible that she was there, but that she had died? That dark thought was unwelcomed, but I couldn't help but wonder if that had, possibly, happened. I would not voice that thought to Peter. I bit my lip as we continued to walk.

We reached a meadow of tall grasses and flowers, swaying in a gentle breeze.

“How beautiful! I had no idea the colors from the reefs could be found on land!” Meria said, bending down and touching a blue flower. Her smile was distracting for a few heartbeats. I placed one hand on her shoulder, taking her hand with my other one to pull her back up. She had been putting her face into the flowers to smell them after Peter had called back that they smelled wonderful. Meria looked at me, and at my hand.

“We don’t know what is safe and what isn’t. Sometimes, beauty is dangerous,” I said.

Meria placed her free hand on my shoulder and nodded.

“They are so pretty,” she said.

“They are called flowers.”

“Flowers–how lovely,” she whispered. I looked around the group at the open space. There was something about it that made me apprehensive. Peter stepped into the grove a few feet away from the group, and with each step, golden dust floated up into the air until thousands of glowing orbs lit up the sky. We all stepped back into the jungle, but it was too late. Whatever was happening, there was nothing we could do to stop it–good or bad.

Peter kept walking.

“I am looking for Gwendolyn Darling. Is she here?” There were sounds all around us, like that of small tinkling bells.

A small orb floated right before Peter’s face, and he reached out his hand as if to touch it.

“Peter!” I began, but it was too late. I watched in horror as all the glowing orbs swarmed him. I ran to him, trying to push the orbs off of his body.

“Stop, Dom–Please, this is my chance to find her,” he said, pleading. His eyes were fierce and determined. My heart sank. I could not tell him what to do. I may have been his blood, but I hadn’t seen him since we were children. I had no place in his life to tell him what to do.

“What are they doing?” I asked.

“Can you hear them? They are going to bring me to Gwendolyn,” he said in his carefree way. It was as if it was merely some game.

“Remember what you told me about them? Can you really trust them?”

“They mean well, and they want us together. Let me go. I will stay here, and on your way back from your task, return and pick us up. I should have Gwendolyn by then.” He seemed so confident, happy, and sure.

“But–” I wanted to say so much, but I couldn’t. I could not say the things out loud I was thinking: that I had just gotten him back, and I needed him not to die before I had a chance to explain myself and try to make peace with him so that we could truly be brothers.

“Please, trust me, Dom,” he pleaded. I saw that little child again, the boy who had taken my hand when we had walked along the seashore in Walden, the little boy who had followed me around and who I cared about and missed during all those years we had been apart.

I looked at the orbs, which were floating beside me as if waiting.

“If you hurt my brother, I shall come back here and annihilate all of you. You know of the Traitor King? He is nothing compared to me. I am The Cruel Hand, and if you hurt him–”

There were more bell sounds, but within them, I could hear the words:“We know who you are! The Hand–the Healer–the Stolen Prince!”

Stolen Prince? More like a banished and exiled prince.

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