Page 31 of Odder Still
A leaf tumbles from the trees, and Blue pounces on it, rolling into Lavender as she does. The princess releases an indignant mew.
Tavish lifts his chin with equally dignified annoyance. “Have you ever tried being drunkandblind?”
“Have you tried being drunk andnotblind?”
“Fair enough.” A strand of his curls falls over his left eye.
My fingers ache to draw it behind his ear, such an electric, carnal sensation that I force my thoughts elsewhere, settling finally on his irises shining the perfect grey of water vapor. The color of fog and freedom. “Back home, we have mists that spill out of the deep swamps so thick that it’s almost like going blind. There, sound and silence are the difference between life and death. Your selkies would need all the aids in the world to survive. But you might do all right.”
“That’s the way of things, isn’t it? We adjust for what’s most common. Anything that isn’t gets left behind.”
That dangerous curl still hangs across his face. I flex my fingers, stretching and coiling them, stretching and coiling, as though he’s a planet and I am a lonely rock caught in his orbit. “Anyone would be a fool to leave you behind.”
He gives an awkward, mangled laugh. “Aye, right.” His sarcasm runs nails down my heart. “You saw me at my best. There’s a long way down from there. Everyone else has witnessed it.”
“Are you sure?” My memories still swim with light and life, but from what I recall, that boardroom looked enraptured, enthralled, certain that Tavish could give them exactly what they needed. And then he’d convinced them that he had, even while taking what he really wanted instead.
But he scoffs, a sound so bitter and rough it barely seems to come from him. “They might not show it, but they watched me grow up. They’ve seen my mother demolish my petitions time and time again. They ken that no matter how often I equal her for a moment, I will never rise above.”
That only convinces me all the more that Tavish is wrong—wrong about them and about himself and about his future. But I can’t make him see what’s right in front of him, not if he’s so determined to close his eyes. Metaphorically speaking. “If it’s any consolation, I, too, am a raging disaster.”
The corner of his lips quirk. “Och, you disgrace me, Ruby. I still have a bit of my life together!”
“Ruby?” The word forms in a whisper, the sound of blossoms opening and mist slithering through the trees.
“Sorry, it just—it came out.” He picks at the skin along his nail, nearly spilling what little whiskey remains in his bottle in the process. “I won’t—”
“My mother used to call me that.” It’s her voice that makes the flowers flourish and draws forth the fog, I realize. Her voice, resonating through my memories, still a part of me even so long after the rest of her has left.
No one else has been with me long enough to imprint upon my life like that, to transform pieces of me from the inside out. No one else. But the sparkling buzz in my head and the pounding of my heart yearn for it afresh. My gaze goes to Tavish, but even if he is good, and kind, and he gives more than he takes of me, even then, he will never actually come home with me. He’ll be a passing moment, a few days of friendship that I can look back on and smile about. Nothing more.
But perhaps a few days might be better than none.
“You can call me what you wish, you ridiculous princeling.” I don’t know why I whisper.
“Unacceptable. I’m not a prince.” His freckled lips pucker slyly. He lifts his head, and his breath curls against my chin.
I tremble. “You are, compared to me.”
He slips his palm along my shoulder, and even through the thickness of the robe, I feel every curve of his hand, every wrinkle and freckle and perfect imperfection. I embrace the touch, closing my eyes and bathing in his presence. He finds my collar, and his fingers rise over it. Then, he stops, caught between skin and aurora. Between me and an intruder.
He traces it. His caress lightens, then vanishes, leaving me hollow. Empty.
He seems equally so, his fingers drooping into his lap. And I can’t blame him. His dead brother’s cats have curled around each other, Blue finally calmed enough to settle onto the blanket and groom the back of Lavender’s neck. Whiskey can only brighten a dark world so much.
I take a long gulp from my glass, trying to chase the tail of my high, even for a minute, a moment, a heartbeat. To be happy while I can. While I have nothing else to be.
I break the silence with a hum. “Would you turn into a seal, if I asked?”
Tavish goes so still I think he may be a rabbit frozen before a pair of headlights. His shoulders shake. Laughter bubbles out of him, chaotic and contagious.
“Was that rude, too?” I chuckle, slamming down the rest of my whiskey. “Gods, I don’t usually interact with people while drunk.”
“No, no, it’s fine. It’s cute.” Tavish wipes the corner of his eye. “But I would have to be naked to shift.”
“I’ve seen you naked before.”
In the low, drifting light of the pool, the embarrassment in Tavish’s cheeks is unmistakable.
