Page 55 of Enchantment of Silver and Sea
I could practically hear Irene’s voice telling him all of that. Scolding some random passerby and railroading him into talking to her. It was so typical of her.
“Well, after that, I guess you could say we became friends. She told me what the Enforcers’ schedule was for making supplyruns. And she told me where on their journey home they would usually stop to take a breather. So I would wait for her around that spot, hiding in the trees. Sometimes I’d bring others from the group with me. And she’d always sneak off somehow, with some ‘lost’ supplies for us.”
I could barely breathe.
“I still don’t know how she pulled it off,” he mused, shaking his head. He bounced his leg anxiously, as if the answer still ate at him. “But she did, and I can’t tell you how grateful we were for it. Food, clothes, you name it. I could sit here for hours telling you about the difference it made for us. And do you know she never asked for anything in return? I mean, I guess you probably would’ve figured. You know your sister’s heart. The only thing I could think to do to make it up to her was give her something I knew she wanted, that we didn’t have much use for in our day-to-day—books.”
My heart stopped. Just for a moment, I was certain, it had stopped. Skipped a beat, then found its rhythm again.
This was all too much. And yet not enough.
A family of four scooted past us, plates of food in hand, and Cecil gave them a friendly wave. Then he continued, “Every now and then, our meetings wouldn’t go to plan. Sometimes she got pulled for a different assignment. And obviously she couldn’t insist on going on the supply run instead, or her boss would get curious.”
I stifled a humorless laugh. “Get curious” was an interesting way to put it. Irene’s Mentor was never simply “curious” about the things she did, in that simple, removed way that one wouldexpect from his role. He was always deeply invested in whatever she was doing, in her success, in her well-being.
In mine, too.
But having worked side-by-side with my parents for years and being one of my father’s closest friends, I suppose that came with the territory. We lost our dad, so he stepped up to fill that fatherly role in our lives.
Until he didn’t.
“The last time I saw Irene” Cecil said, oblivious to my spiraling thoughts. “She was worried that they were on to her. She said someone had finally started asking questions, really digging into why certain things weren’t making it back to Cyllene.” He turned to look at me then, raw pain in his eyes. “We had talked about her coming here, to Ersa Estates. With you. Maybe on the next supply run, maybe sooner if she could swing it. We don’t have much here, but we have each other. I told her if the two of you could get out, if you could get away, I would make sure you had a home waiting for you here. I told her…” He cleared his throat. “I told her that we couldn’t provide you two with those big city conveniences, but there is one thing we would give you, always. A family.”
Tears were sliding down my cheeks. I didn’t try to stop them.
When he spoke again, his voice was just above a whisper. “I kept coming back to our spot. Waiting for her. Hoping every time that I’d see her there, bags packed, with a ten-year-old girl in tow. After several months passed, and she never showed, I figured what that meant. But I never stopped holding out hope. I told myself maybe she changed her mind. Maybe she settleddown eventually, too, and had a husband and some kids on the other side of that wall.”
The hand he put on my shoulder was so large, it encompassed my shoulder and then some.
“When Nya and Kieran came back after that second trip and told me what you’d said, about her being executed—” He stopped abruptly. Swallowed. “I’m happy that you’re here. But I wish I never had to find out the truth.”
A sob escaped me, and he looked away. If it was to give me space or because his own eyes were glistening, I wasn’t certain.
“The thing is,” he said after a while. “I never knew if she felt the same about me. If she saw me as anything more than a really good friend. But I didn’t care. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. And smart and kind and funny and…I don’t have to tell you this.”
I shook my head. Beyond words.
“When Nya and Kieran were gearing up to go find you that first time, I had a good laugh.” He smiled at the memory. “Kieran and these other young bucks, they don’t listen to me. I’m only thirty-six, but to them I’m just some old married guy. I remember I said to Kieran, ‘You may think you’re hot shit here at camp, but let me tell you—if Maila is anything like her sister, you’re in for it.’” He was laughing now, a deep rumbling in his chest. “I said to him, ‘You just wait. You’re gonna be trailing after that girl like a sick pup.’”
In spite of my tears, I smiled, too.
“Anyway, I know there’s a lot to talk about still. A lot that you don’t know about us, and things for us to learn about you.But I just wanted you to know that.” He pressed his palms to his knees and began to rise. “I was waiting for you to ask how we knew who you were and why we sought you out, and then I was going to tell you. But you never did ask.”
Our eyes met again as he stood. When I spoke, my voice was thick. “I didn’t care what the reason was. Not anymore.”
His expression had more warmth in it than the fire before us. “I know,” he said. After one more long look, in which it felt like we said a thousand things while saying nothing at all, he added, “By the way, I’m the one who made all those maps. If there’s anything you remember about me when you leave here, besides all that I just told you, I want it to be my incredible artistic ability.”
I wanted to laugh. But when he walked away, it was more tears that came.
“Ready?”
I turned away from Nya and Kieran to look back at the camp one last time. I took in the dilapidated homes, the cul-de-sac, the fire. The people passing by, some of whom I hadn’t had an opportunity to talk to, but who still gave me a friendly wave goodbye. I tried to memorize the faces of Cecil and Rubi and little Filimena, who were there to see me off.
Even Xiomara was there. To her credit, she waved. But maybe she was just glad to see me go.
“Wait!”
In the open doorway of a house to our left, George had appeared and was stepping gingerly across the crumbling front walk. Cecil moved to offer him a hand, but George stubbornly waved him away.
