Page 68 of The Rising Tide
“I can tell.” Tom nodded soberly. “You’ve sort of a glow about you. I can tell those who love the islands.”
“They’re beautiful,” Lucky managed, and his heart swelled a little. “I’ve… I grew up in the city, and I love being surrounded by the sea.”
“Aye,” Tom murmured, nodding. “Aye.” He swallowed hard, and even though he was as transparent as the next ghost, Lucky could see his eyes brighten. “I’ve got… people on the island,” he said, biting his lip. “A mum, a little sister, a-a friend. The best friend.” He paused for a moment and took in the two of them, hands clasped. “A friend like you two,” he said with a hesitant smile.
“A forever friend,” Lucky said softly.
“Aye.” Tom’s chest rose and fell slowly, a being who hadn’t breathed in a hundred and fifty years, fighting for the air to speak. “I’ve been away so long. I promised I’d return, and I’m afraid… afraid the world’s fallen apart around their ears without me. Is that strange?”
Lucky brought his free hand up to rub his chest and thought of all the people on the island whose lives had been turned upside down in the best way because Scout had failed his father’s magic test. Kayleigh, Marcus, Piers, Larissa—even that Miller Aldrun guy. Helen loved them. He fought brightness in his own eyes.Heloved them. Loved Scout. Was terribly, fiercely in love with Scout.
“No,” he said, while Scout seemed to be earnestly pondering the question. “No. It’s not strange. Some people…. When they’re gone, it punches a hole in the world. If you were loved, and loved fiercely, your world will miss you. Trust me.” He fought not to look at the man by his side. “It’s a real thing.”
Tom gave a relieved smile. “That’s good to hear,” he said. “I want to get back so badly. I… it’s like I can feel them, looking across the sea, looking for me, and I seem to have lost my way home.”
Next to him, Scout made the most forlorn noise. “Well, then,” he said, his voice gravelly. “Me and Lucky, we’ll have to help you back, don’t you think, Lucky?”
Lucky nodded. “Oh yes. We’ll—”
“But wait!” Tom looked at them earnestly. “You won’t know them! Here.” And with that, he reached under the collar of his shirt and brought out a chain holding plain gold band, like a wedding band.
Almost identical to the wedding band that Scout had clenched in his fist when he’d followed the Wisp to the soul trap not even a week ago.
“A ring?” Scout said, taking it from Tom, holding it in his hand where it winked prettily in the cloud-filtered light from the sun.
“Yes,” Tom said. “It’s got an inscription in the center. You find the boy named Henry who has a ring like that, and he’ll know it’s me.”
“Understood,” Scout said roughly. “And in the meantime, we’ll work to get you home.”
A smile flickered across Tom’s face, and then he was gone.
Together they looked inside the gold band. It read,Henry’s.
“YOU’RE QUIET,”Scout said later, as they stood on the prow of the ferry, headed for home.
“My heart hurts,” Lucky said baldly, not sure how else to say it. “That’s a long time, you know? To stare across the ocean and hope when….” This sounded stupid and romantic, but gah! He could still taste Scout’s kisses! Still feel the void he’d left when he pulled out of Lucky’s body. Still smell their come on his skin.
“When what?” Scout prompted gently, bumping Lucky’s shoulder with his own. Lucky looked into his brilliant eyes and the hair that should have been ridiculous but was simply grander all the time.
“When you weren’t sure the other half of your heart was staring back,” Lucky said, lost, helpless, his throat dry. And that was it. The thing he’d feared, probably since he’d first set eyes on Scout six weeks ago. That this brilliant, fascinating creature could fly away, leaving Lucky pining mournfully in his wake.
“He is,” Scout said, turning to face him. “I am. I don’t ever want to leave you, Justin.”
Lucky swallowed, wondering what it was about the name he’d always hated as a kid that made him all melty now.
“I don’t want to leave you either, Scotland Quintero,” he said solemnly, expecting a smile from Scout.
What he got was Scout’s widened eyes and a mild panic. “Uhm, maybe don’t use that name off the island?”
Lucky widened his eyes in return. “Why? I thought, you know, you just didn’t like it. It was like, sweet, like you called me Justin and I—”
“Well, yeah. But like I said, real names have power, and uhm….”
Scout gasped, and Lucky felt it—a pressure over them, like he couldn’t breathe. He looked around frantically and saw a dark cloud coalescing over their heads.
“Scout?” he asked, frantically clutching Scout’s hand in his.
Scout glared up at the cloud, squeezed Lucky’s hand, and said, “I’ll be at the clearing. Trust me, okay?” He gave Lucky his best, most brilliant smile, then let go of Lucky’s hand and shouted, “C’mon, Alistair, you showy coward, come get me! It might not go how you want it to, I warn you!”
