Page 72 of Beacon

I followed him as he bounded ahead with that boyish enthusiasm I found incredibly endearing, pausing every so often to ensure I was following. His eagerness carried him from rock to rock as he explored the uneven landscape, slowly getting farther ahead as I lingered back to watch.

My heart clenched when I suddenly remembered that up ahead—very near to where Owen explored—was a hidden drop that plummeted to the cavern below us, a fall that would likely kill anyone upon landing. The arrangement of the rocks masked the hole from view, making it difficult to notice until one was upon it.

Owen! My mind screamed his name, a warning that was entirely useless when he couldn’t hear it. The sharp rocks cut my bare feet as I scrambled forward in an attempt to catch up to him, but he was too far ahead. Panic blinded me as Owen drew closer and closer to the hidden drop. Any moment he’d be upon it, and then…

My fear at seeing him in danger finally unstopped my suppressed voice while desperation to save him allowed a single word to finally wrench itself free.

“Owen!”

The word came out scratchy and strangled past a dry throat unaccustomed to speech, forcing itself past every carefully erected barrier that had rendered me silent these past ten years. The sound wasn’t very loud, but it was enough to cause Owen to freeze.

For a moment he stood completely still, as if shock had rendering him paralyzed. Then he slowly turned to stare at me in disbelief. “Marisa?”

In that moment I realized the full implications of what I’d done—I’d broken my vow to never utter a single sound. My fierce relief quickly became eclipsed by all-consuming fear. I slapped my hands over my mouth, as if the gesture could block out the sound that had already escaped. But the word had served its purpose—Owen had stopped just short of the hidden drop. He was safe, making it impossible to regret my spoken breach.

He gaped a moment before hurrying forward, stopping in front of me. At first he didn’t speak, only continued to stare with eyes wide in astonishment. “You…spoke.” He said the word uncertainly, as if doubting what he’d just heard.

I kept my hands over my mouth as I shook my head.

“But youdid. I heard you. I confess I’m shocked. I thought you couldn’t speak at all. How—”

Tears burned my eyes as I frantically shook my head again. I wasn’t sure whether my tears were out of relief that Owen hadn’t been hurt or for me finally uttering my first word after all this time.

Concern filled his expression as one of my tears trickled down my cheek, drawing him closer. “Marisa?”

I slowly lowered my hands, but I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t.

“Marisa? You said my name. I heard you.”

His awe furrowed into confusion even as questions filled his eyes, ones I couldn’t answer. Panic clenched my wildly pounding heart at the spoken word that had tumbled free beyond my control. With a whimper I sank onto the beach. He crouched beside me, keeping a firm hold on my shoulders with a look like he wanted to pull me into an embrace but was uncertain how such a gesture would be received.

“Marisa…”

His voice was so soft as he spoke my name almost in a fragile way, as if he feared I was moments away from breaking…and perhaps I was. My emotions were taut and raw, even as the journey that had brought me to this point had left me exhausted. More tears escaped before I could stop them.

“Deep breaths,” he said gently. “It’s alright, Marisa.”

He soothingly rubbed my back, and it was only then that I realized my breaths were coming short, fast, and almost painful. I rested my forehead against his chest in an effort to calm myself, and he enfolded me in his arms. Within his embrace, the full implications of what had just happened settled over me: I’d spoken despite believing I’d never utter another word ever again.

Speaking Owen’s name had acted as the first step on a journey I wasn’t entirely certain I wanted to embark on, especially when silence had been my refuge for so long. I felt my voice retreating, withdrawing back to the state that, once comfortable, now felt like a prison.

At first Owen allowed the silence to linger, as if sensing I needed its familiar comfort, but when his curiosity could no longer be contained, he was eventually forced to broach it. “You spoke, Marisa. I’m certain of it. I didn’t know you could speak.”

I sighed, knowing I owed him an explanation but unsure how to give it…or if I evencould.

“You don’t have to talk to me if you…don’t want to.” It was the first time he’d ever phrased the words in a way that indicated that my not speaking was a choice rather than because I simplycouldn’t.

I pulled away from my cozy position nestled against his chest enough to peer up at him, feeling vulnerable now that he’d discovered one of my deepest secrets. He brushed a lingering tear away with his thumb.

“Do you not want me to ask?” he asked gently.

I was torn between wanting to confide in him while being terrified of him discovering this hidden part of me. But though my words had once more been locked away, my desire to share myself with Owen remained. I shook my head, granting my permission for him to ask his questions. Even with my invitation, Owen hesitated, as if carefully considering his words.

“So…you can speak?” He released a whooshing breath at my nod. “This entire time…I’d thought you’d been born mute. But in truth, you simply…won’tspeak?” His assessment was tentative. I nodded again, confirming his hypothesis. His brow furrowed. “What stole your voice?”

The memories returned, unbidden. I squeezed my eyes shut but couldn’t block out the nightmarish images that had haunted me all these years—of Mother’s ship swallowed by the sea as my powers raged beyond my control. I gave my head a rigid shake in an effort to dispel them, but they lingered to taint my mind with their tendrils of guilt and sorrow.

“It’s alright.” Owen’s soothing touch returned to my back. “You don’t have to tell me.”

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