Droplets (DROPLETS Trilogy Book 1) (24 page)

     “I remember the day Nerissa returned to Lathmor and came to my mother.” Her voice was solemn. “She came into the nursery and spoke to mother of the powers she had seen in humans who were transformed into merfolk. But most importantly, she told mother of how she was going to create two ultimate weapons. She had said ‘The one to enslave, the other to maintain.’ Until now I had never known what it meant.” 

     “As we told you before,” Tunder took over, “we believe Morven expects you to be some sort of siren, conquering the human and merfolk world.” My grip tightened as the threatening phobia of being trapped wrapped around me. Patrick squeezed gently back and rubbed my hand even more, trying to relax the tension within.

     “In regards to you,” Shaylee nodded her head toward Patrick, “Nerissa mentioned the creation of a warrior.”

     Patrick’s chest rose and fell heavily. “The one to enslave,” he muttered softly and the depth of his words lay heavily upon us.

     “We believe that together, you both make the ultimate weapon for winning this war. Together, you could conquer both humans and merfolk.” The Captain’s words rang true as if I had known this all along, but had never acknowledged it until now.

     “How?” Patrick raised his head. “How would we be used?”

     “We don’t know.” Shaylee’s eyes were filled with regret. “The best I can guess is that in some way you would not be yourselves.”

     Her words hung in the air, allowing us to decipher what she meant. The horrible haunting name Morven had given me prodded the back of my mind. I knew what he wanted me to be and what I would be called.

     Patrick leaned over, his forearms resting on his knees, still holding my hand. His eyes were closed and he looked so solemn that my heart, which I didn’t think could feel any worse, ached.

     “Does anyone else know of this?” Patrick’s voice was rough, returning to the darkness I had only seen in him twice before. Deep anger and hatred was buried in his words. A shiver ran down my spine.

     “Only the king.” Patrick nodded at Tunder’s response. “It’s not the end of the world.” Patrick let out a short gust of incredulous air.

     “How do you know that? What if I am changing? We have no idea what she did to me.” Patrick was frightening while he glared at Tunder. I leaned away from him, even though my hand was still within his grasp. “For all we know I could wake up one day and not remember who I am.”

     Patrick’s voice broke at the end. I realized now that the anger was a cover for the frustration, the fear, and the vulnerability he felt.

     “I wish I knew, too,” Tunder said gravely. I nodded in agreement.

     “We just thought you both deserved to know,” Shaylee explained. “It’s not right, what they’ve done to you. We are going to try and help you any way we can.”

     “We know,” I said and gave her a small smile. Patrick did not respond, his eyes were closed shut and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

     “We’ll give you some time alone,” Tunder said. I nodded, slipping my hand from Patrick’s so I could lead them to the door. 

     “I’m sorry,” Shaylee said, her eyes wet with tears.

     “It’ll be all right,” I said, giving her a hug. “We needed to know.” Tunder awkwardly hugged me, grasped his wife’s hand, and they left together after saying goodbye to an unresponsive Patrick.

      When the door shut, I stood facing it until I could no longer hear Tunder and Shaylee’s footsteps. Turning back around, I faced Patrick. He sat in the same position as before, but his eyes were fixed on the floor and his jaw tight with fury.

     Maybe it was my own fear, or the threat of what was to come, but I grew annoyed with his uncomfortable silence. “You could’ve at least said goodbye.”

     Patrick didn’t move; it was like he was completely possessed. His mind was so far gone and the deep emotions that were playing across his face had nothing to do with present actions. The emotions were responding to memories, memories I could only imagine.

     “Patrick,” I tried again to get his attention, but he didn’t move.

     Annoyed, I walked over and sat down on the bench. Maybe I could just wait out this little spell of anger, or whatever it was. Time passed slowly while I waited, and I began to get sleepy. My eyes kept drifting closed, but I would pry them open like there was something important that needed to be done.

     “Lissie?” Patrick’s calm voice sounded so beautiful breaking through the quiet of the room. I turned to face him. His eyes were soft and the Patrick I knew was back. My heart jumped as his deep brown eyes scanned my face.

     “I don’t like to dwell on the past, but too often it creeps up on me. More frequently this past month. I just get so frustrated and angry when I think of what he has done to you, and why you were changed. It makes me so, so—” Patrick broke off looking into the fire. His hands were twisting together while the muscles in his arms twitched.  My hand trembled as I reached out to touch him.

    “I think if we face this together we’ll be fine.” I surprised myself with how truthful I was. Patrick turned his eyes to mine, his expression lost and hopeless.

     “I don’t know if I can protect you from him,” he said, his voice desperately solemn. “If he comes for you, I’ll fight him, but I don’t know how it’ll end.”

     “Don’t talk like that,” I berated him. “He doesn’t know where we are and hopefully we will never see him again.” The way that Patrick turned away from me shot alarm throughout my body.

     “Wouldn’t that be a good thing?” I asked, hoping the answer wouldn’t be what I was thinking.

     “No,” he said. His voice caused my insides to cripple. “I want him dead. I want to know that you’ll be safe from him for the rest of your life.”

     “And you’re willing to kill him?”

     “To protect you? Yes.” His words felt like the proclamation of his own execution.

     “Then I hope he never finds us,” I said, trying to sound more cheerful than I felt. Patrick didn’t respond.

     He turned to look at me, his eyes kindled with deep emotion. Without a word, he moved over to sit next to me on the bench. Pulling me into his chest, I curled up tightly, my eyes focused on the flickering fire. Something about the ever changing light prodded my mind, reminding me of the man beside me; his anger flickering in and out. But with his arms around me, I couldn’t conclude the thought and fell into a blissful sleep, only slightly aware of the strong arms that lifted and carried me to my soft bed where he left me to sleep.

24. Wedding

The day of the wedding arrived quicker than I could’ve thought possible. Nixie had visited the island to fit the already made dress to my body. She only had to alter it slightly and then it fit like a glove.

     The ceremony was beautiful. Nixie chose to be married outside in a large meadow on Lathmor surrounded by thick trees. Green grass covered the open area, creating a soft carpet for all the barefoot guests. Tables with milky white cloths and light orange napkins rested on the tables and a long strip of white rose petals cut the meadow in half, serving as an aisle for the bride. White twinkling lights were creatively strung throughout all of the surrounding trees and gave the whole wedding ceremony a fanciful, romantic effect.

     The actual wedding ceremony was over. Nixie had looked gorgeous in her white wedding gown that shown brilliantly against her red curls. The empire waste showed off her slim figure and flowed to the ground in a lustrous cascade of white fabric. Her hair was ornamented with white flowers and beads. Her smile was stunning and left my heart throbbing with happiness for her.

      Shaylee and Kryssa, wore matching dresses of pale auburn, and had stood beside their younger sister as the wedding vows were spoken. Everyone at the wedding was dressed elegantly. Patrick and I stood toward the back where we ignored the harsh glares sent our way every now and then. As the ceremony continued, the stares lessened and we began to enjoy ourselves.

     The wedding reception was in the open meadow, a rather large affair considering there was a war going on. But Nixie had done her best to put together a wedding that would satiate her desires and yet be appropriate for wartime. Even now she laughed gaily as Daggin swung her around to the soft rhythm of the three violinists playing in the night air. I smiled watching them spin around.

     A squeeze on my hand brought my attention back to the moment. Patrick smirked at me, knowing I had been lost in my thoughts. 

     “Sorry, what?” I asked, raising my eyebrows politely.

     “I asked if you wanted to dance,” Patrick said, amused. No doubt he was laughing at my lack of concentration. My smile was enough of a reply for him and he got up from his chair to lead me onto the crowded dance floor.

     The dress Nixie had made for me brushed along the grassy floor with a soft whispering sound, its light lavender color running in a gentle ripple up my body where it hugged my waist. The gauzy straps crossed over my shoulders and dipped low to reveal most of my back. As we walked forward, Patrick guided me with his hand. I shivered when his skin pressed against mine.

     Spinning around in his arms, I marveled up at him. His hair was rustled, much better than when it had been perfectly combed for the ceremony. He had seemed too uptight in his suit and tie, but he now looked more like himself since removing the jacket and leaving the black tie on the table. His rolled up sleeves revealed the tan skin that I was so used to seeing. He spun me around and my eyes took in the decorations up close. Bodies passed us without glancing and I reveled in the solitude of not being looked at.

     Across the meadow, Kryssa danced with Elik; their movements were stiff as though it was too awkward for them. I couldn’t help noticing that Kryssa was refusing to look at him. Shaylee, as always, was by Tunder’s side, their hands intertwined. But of all the people in the meadow, those who shined the most were Nixie and Daggin. They danced with no regard to those around them, lost in each other’s eyes. Their love seemed effortless and perfect. It was as if they would both be completely lost if the other was gone.

     “You’re very distracted tonight,” Patrick observed with a chuckle.

     “Just thinking,” I said, trying to sound casual. I let my feet flow in rhythm as Patrick waltzed us around the meadow. This was the first dance that I actually knew how to do. The merfolk apparently liked all styles and periods of dance. Sitting on the sidelines I had watched various eras performed through dancing, from medieval to the roaring twenties, the merfolk knew them all.

     “Kryssa is dancing with Elik again,” I noted, nodding my head in their direction.

     “Hmm,” Patrick mumbled, acknowledging my statement.

     “I think he likes her and she just doesn’t see it yet.” I hadn’t voiced my opinion on the matter to anyone yet.

     “Yes, he does,” Patrick clarified, surprising me. “But it will be a while before anything happens between them.” 

     His words made me curious and I gazed up at him confused. He took my breath away, his hair gently floating in the breeze as we waltzed around the meadow, our feet brushing through the soft grass and the lights in the trees blurring behind his head. My heart stirred with the emotion I had been feeling for a long time. For days I had struggled with whether or not I should express them, but I could never let the words leave my mouth. I decided to stay on the safe side and maintain our conversation.

     “Why is that?” I asked, steering the conversation away from what I was feeling. Patrick looked back down at me suddenly and for a moment he looked confused too.

     “Has Kryssa not told you what happened?” He raised one eyebrow.

     “About what?” I asked innocently.

     “Hmm,” he said, again frustrating me. After a moment he spoke, “She must not be ready to tell you yet, but she will eventually.”

     “Tell me what? Is this about what Nixie said the other night? She had said—”

     Patrick butted in, “That’s for Kryssa to tell you when she’s ready. It’s not something I would want to talk about anyway.” His voice was serious, but I heard a hint of pity. Again I looked over at her dancing across the way, wondering what had happened to her.

    The music transitioned into a more relaxed waltz and neither of us spoke. Leaning forward, I rested my head on Patrick’s chest. He slowed our pace and I sighed softly against his chest. It was all so companionable and felt right. He was comfort, friendship, and belonging. Somehow he had made his way into my heart. Contentment rolled over me in waves as I leaned deeper into his body. I knew that I could go on forever with him just holding me and gently leading me around the dance floor.

     Closing my eyes, I listened to his breathing that came in time with the music. I could hear the violinists stringing softly on their instruments, I hummed along. All of a sudden I realized the music seemed to be getting farther and farther away.

     I opened my eyes, surprised to see we were within the cover of the trees. Looking up, I saw Patrick’s familiar smirk. He winked at me, the playfulness giving way to his waltzing faster and faster until my dress was flaring around us in a wide circle of lavender.

     We came to a stop and when he gazed down at me the spark in my chest kindled. The music was barely audible through the night and soft light broke through the trees from the moon high up above us.

      “I just wanted some time alone with you,” he said. His voice ran over me like melted chocolate.

     For that one moment everything froze. I knew what I felt, and I knew how he felt. It was there in his eyes. The way he gazed down at me with unashamed emotion. My heart swelled and the smile on my face broadened.

     With more courage than I felt, I placed my hand behind his neck and pulled his face closer to mine. My lips parted and waited. Patrick’s eyes caressed my face as he placed his hands around my back. The space between us closed and my breath hitched. Then with a crooked grin, he lowered his head until his lips touched mine.

     The world around us melted. He was all that mattered and I kissed him with all that I felt. This kiss was different than the one we had shared in the cave. There was passion, but more importantly there was connection. I understood him, and he understood me. We were together, joined by something beyond our control.

     He moved gently at first. His lips were tight, still stretched in a smile, but slowly they released. His lips moved more forcefully and embraced my own. With his arms, he cradled me while my other hand reached behind his neck to lock fingers with its twin. Our bodies pressed together tightly in the cool night air, his warmth was everything I needed and I fell into him, giving way to what my heart felt. Slowly and gently he drew away, leaving me wanting more.

     “I have something for you,” he said slightly breathless.

     Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out something but kept his fist closed. Curious, I leaned forward, tucking my hair behind my ears as I tried to discern what it was. Placing my hands on his forearms, I waited for his tight fist to open. Slowly his fingers fell apart and I gasped.

     Sitting on his now flat palm was a beautiful bracelet made of perfectly rounded pearls that shimmered in the moonlight. The stones were white, but cast pale colors of blue, purple, and green onto his hand.

     “Where did you… How did you…?” I broke off, completely perplexed by the bracelet.

     “I made it,” he said as he smiled impishly and clasped the bracelet around my wrist.

     “You made this?” I asked, stunned, while watching the shiny stones slide up and down my wrist as I moved.

     “Yes.” He shrugged as though it was a simple matter. All of a sudden I hugged him tightly, taking him off guard. Words couldn’t express my gratitude. He wrapped his arms around me, his warm skin brushing against my exposed back.

     “Thank you,” I whispered. “It’s so beautiful. I don’t even know what else to say.”

     “You are most welcome,” he said so softly against my hair that shivers ran down my spine. I pulled back to look at him.

     “I’m going to wear this always. You won’t ever see it off me.” He smiled brightly in response.

     “Is that a promise?” he asked, his tone joking but his eyes serious. I nodded.

     “Someone would have to kill me before they could get it off.” I half laughed at my dramatic claim and Patrick did too, yet somehow we both knew I was serious.

     “Lissie,” he said my name in a whisper and I closed my eyes. The sound of my name on his lips brought me comfort. “There is something I want to tell you.”

     “What’s that?” I cocked my head to the side, knowing just what he was going to say. He smiled and wrapped his arms around my back once more. I looked into his unblinking eyes and memorized them.

     “I love you,” he said confidently. I smiled and bit my lip, shaking my head from side to side.

     “I love you too,” I said and he leaned in to kiss me once more.

     Just when I was beginning to feel as though my heart would burst from my chest, an earsplitting scream tore through the quiet night. Patrick’s head shot up and he looked directly back to the meadow. We stood stationary for a moment, watching and waiting, but I was unsure what to expect.

     The sounds of commotion and shouting reached our ears and Patrick released me from his arms. Grabbing my hand, and taking me along, he ran toward the muffled sounds. The decorated lights in the trees reappeared up ahead and Patrick charged forward, pulling me along behind him awkwardly.

     He stopped suddenly and I smacked into his solid back. Groaning softly, I lifted a hand to my forehead.

     “Shh,” he hushed me. His hand was held up as a sign of silence while he listened intently trying to hear something.

     My pulse escalated as we waited; I didn’t know what we were listening for, but I could hardly hear above the pounding of my heart. More angry voices from the meadow resounded through the trees. I tightened my grip on Patrick’s hand, but he didn’t seem to notice.

     A deep authoritative voice urged desperately, but there was no response. It took me a moment to realize that it was the king speaking. All the more worried, I waited anxiously, watching Patrick’s face for any sign of comfort.

     Looking down, his eyes were filled with the same worry and made me more nervous. Signaling his intent, he pointed toward the meadow and then placed a finger to his lips. I nodded silently to let him know I understood. He grasped my hand tighter and moved forward stealthily, closer to the meadow. I followed him, one hand in his, and the other holding my dress up. I was scarcely breathing, worried that I would make too much noise.

    “Let her go now!” Daggin’s frantic voice pierced the night.

     “Daggin, please!” Nixie’s voice pleaded, filled with fright.

     I panicked, wanting to move faster. Patrick hurried forward as silence fell over the meadow. 
What was happening?

       Crouching down behind some bushes on the edge of the meadow, we were able to see the scene before us. I placed a hand over my mouth to silence the gasp that escaped my lips.

     Tables had been knocked over and pushed aside. All the merfolk stood huddled together, the mermaids behind the mermen. A few of the mermen stood out from the group. I quickly noticed Daggin standing the farthest away, out on his own. Tunder was near his side and the king a little farther back.

     Everyone’s eyes were trained on two figures at the end of the meadow. I bit my lip to keep from crying out as I recognized the small body clothed in white trapped inside the arms of a bulky and powerful merman dressed in all black. Something about him seemed familiar, but the tears that ran down Nixie’s face as she gasped for breath distracted my attention. Her red curls fell from the pins in her hair.