Page 48 of Female Fantasy
I cannot put my finger on it. And I cannot ask.
Not yet.
“Trust does not come easily to me,” I tell her, then turn back to face all of them. “I have never found comfort in the company of others. My whole life, I have kept my thoughts and dreams under lock and key. The love you have for each other, unconditional and unwavering? It is as mysterious to me as this new world.”
The Upper Shoal listens to my every word, their beautiful faces twisting in pain.
Empathy.
For me.
Even though I am no one.
Then, one by one, they make the same oath as Guinn.
On the ancients and the unborn.
The moons and the tides.
The current and the bay.
They swear fealty to me and my secrets.
When they are done, I blink back tears and clear my throat.
“It was I who blew the Conch of Hippios,” I admit. “The immortal instrument. It called out to me.”
Guinn’s jaw drops. “Holy Furnace, it cannot be,” she says.
Ryke furrows his brows. “Speak, Guinn.”
She looks me dead in the eye.
“Amphitrite,” she says. “She returns.”
Chapter Ten
I keep driving.
Past the dirt back roads, the deserted fields and empty farmland, eerie at the witching hour, haunting as a spirit.
I keep driving in silence with only the moon to guide us.
I keep driving when I hit the highway, picking up speed along with the other late-night roadies, each traveling toward or escaping from something.
All the while, Nico watches me, his forehead scrunched and his eyes narrowed.
Contemplative.
In awe.
After the fifth exit sign, I take a sharp right, pulling into a Denny’s parking lot.
“What are we doing here?” Nico asks. The first words he’s spoken since the great garage escape.
“Get your bags,” I tell him, turning off the car. “We’re leaving the car here.”
I rummage through my purse for a packet of tissues and a small bottle of hand sanitizer. Dabbing a little bit on a Kleenex, I start wiping down any surface we may have touched, from the back seat to the steering wheel. Nico stares at me for a second before grabbing the sanitizer and getting to work.
