by S. E. Smith
“I can’t… I can’t… Nali, it hurts. Oh, Goddess, please,” she brokenly whispered. “I loved him. I loved him. ”
“I know, Gem,” Nali said in a soothing voice.
“Nali – Gem,” Ashure quietly called.
“Gem, the spell over the Isle—” Nali breathed.
Gem forced her head up. Still blinded by her tears, she could barely see at first. It was the sound of hushed voices filled with awe that made her lift her hands and wipe the tears from her eyes.
“Gem? Darling!” the sound of her mother’s voice made her throat tighten.
Through blurry eyes, she saw her parents emerge from the maze – her mother’s dress torn and bloodstained, but her body healed. Her mother pulled free of her father’s arms and ran toward her. Nali released her into the warm, familiar comfort of her mother’s arms. Soon her father wrapped his arms around them both.
“He’s gone. I loved him, and he is gone,” Gem sobbed against her mother’s shoulder.
“Who’s gone, sweetheart?” Adrina asked in a puzzled voice.
Gem lifted her head, her voice thick with sorrow and her face wet with tears. As happy as she was that her parents and her people were back and safe, her heart felt like it had been ripped from her chest and she was slowly dying.
“Ross,” she replied.
“Who is Ross?” Ruger inquired, looking over Gem and his wife’s heads at Drago, Nali, Ashure, and Orion.
Nali lifted a hand and gently rested it on Gem’s upper back. “Ross is the man who saved your kingdom, Ruger,” she explained.
“He saved all of us as well as the Seven Kingdoms,” Ashure corrected.
“What Isle was he from?” Adrina softly inquired. “I would like to show our gratitude. ”
“He was not from our world. His name was Ross Galloway; he was King of Yachats – or at least of the fishing boat he owned, and he was the man who I fell in love with,” Gem answered before she buried her face back against her mother’s shoulder and began to cry uncontrollably.
26
Yachats, Oregon
* * *
“Hey, Ross! Where’ve you been? Do you need a tow?” Nathan Grumby yelled.
Ross jolted up into a sitting position. The sudden movement sent a wave of dizziness through his head. He groaned and leaned forward, pulling his legs up so he could rest his forehead against his knees. The familiar sound of a motor shifting gears, the smell of diesel, and the uneven rocking told him that he was on a boat.
He lifted his head when he heard someone’s boots hitting the deck. Lifting a trembling hand, he wiped his face. He was surprised when he felt dampness on his cheeks that had nothing to do with the mist surrounding them.
“You look like shit. What’d you do? Slip or get drunk?” Hannibal Grumby said, holding out a hand.
Ross reached up and gripped Hannibal’s beefy palm. He didn’t care much for Hannibal, but he needed some answers. He looked at Nathan – Hannibal’s cousin and the nicer, if dumber, of the two.
“He don’t drink, Hannibal. At least not like us,” Nathan answered for him.
Ross ignored Nathan. “What day – what day is it? How long have I been gone?” Ross demanded in a raspy, dry voice.
“Don’t drink, my ass. You don’t know what day it is?” Hannibal demanded.
“Just tell me the fucking day, and how long I’ve been gone,” Ross growled, reaching up and fisting the front of Hannibal’s plaid shirt.
“Damn, Ross, now I know you must’ve hit your head,” Nathan snorted.
“Shut up, Nathan,” Ross and Hannibal both snapped.
“It’s Thursday. You’ve been gone over a week,” Hannibal answered.
“Yeah. The folks in town have a bet going. Some say that you took off and was going to fake your own death to hide the disappearance of more people while others was saying you’d moved to Hawaii on your mom’s inheritance. I said it didn’t make no sense to take your boat. That you was either out fishing or had taken the boat up to Seattle to have some work done,” Nathan rattled on.
“Shut up, Nathan,” he and Hannibal both snapped again.
“I don’t know why I work for either of you. Neither one of you treats me right. I could go get a job…,” Nathan’s voice faded when he went below deck on Hannibal’s large trawler.
“Sit down,” Hannibal ordered.
Ross ignored Hannibal and turned on his heel. He stumbled and reached out for some of the rigging to steady himself. For a second, he had a flashback of another rocking surface. Pain lanced through him sharper than a surgeon’s scalpel, and he took a deep breath.
“Where you going?” Hannibal demanded from behind him.
“To get a fucking drink,” Ross replied.
“Finally, something that makes sense,” Hannibal grumbled.
Ross ignored the heavy-footed thumping as Hannibal followed him down the short set of stairs to the galley. Ross pulled open one of the two storage cabinets mounted to the hull. The first was empty save for some fishing line, extra hooks, and a vinyl repair kit. He opened the second one. Inside was a plastic container with a few staples.
He pulled the container out and set it on the narrow counter. He turned around and scanned the galley. Everything looked familiar – yet, different. With a new perspective, he studied the obvious age and familiar wear and tear of the old fishing boat, and smiled a little at how neat and organized it was. Perhaps he’d inherited a little more from his mom than he’d given himself credit for.
“So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Hannibal said, leaning against the opening.
Ross raised an eyebrow before he bent over and tugged a small ice chest out from under the table. He opened it and pulled out a couple of bottles of water. Closing the lid, he pushed the ice chest back under the table with his foot.
“Where have you been? I know you haven’t been out here fishing. I’ve spent every day for the last week coming out here with Nathan. No man should ever have to do that, by the way. My cousin never shuts the fuck up. You weren’t on your boat,” Hannibal stated.
Ross lit the small single-burner propane stove and placed the kettle filled with the bottled water on top of the flame. He reached back into the cabinet and pulled out a tin cup. A minute later, he was pouring the steaming water over a tea bag that he had placed in the cup.
“Tea? You’re drinking fucking tea?” Hannibal asked in a voice laced with disbelief.
Ross scowled at the man. “I didn’t ask if you wanted any so don’t act so outraged,” he retorted.
“Nathan!” Hannibal yelled.
“I brought some beers for us, Hannibal,” Nathan said behind him.
Hannibal took two beers from Nathan and walked over to the bench seat. He slid onto it and twisted off the beer bottle’s cap. Ross’s jaw hurt from clenching it, but he sighed and slid onto the seat across from Hannibal.
“Nathan, keep an eye on my boat,” Hannibal ordered, not looking at his younger cousin.
“One of these days, Hannibal,” Nathan muttered under his breath before he turned and stomped back up to the deck.
Ross watched the younger man and realized that he’d never treated Nathan much better. Shame and remorse washed through him. Nathan was a good guy. He was just trying to make ends meet, which was hard to do when you came from a shitty home life.
“You should be nicer to him,” Ross said.
Hannibal paused for a second with his beer bottle halfway to his mouth. Then the man took a slow, deep drink before he lowered the bottle back to the table. Ross dipped the tea bag in his cup and waited.
“What happened to you?” Hannibal asked in a surprisingly soft voice.
Ross lifted his cup and blew on the tea. He took a sip before he lowered it back to the table and looked up at Hannibal with a troubled expression. Hannibal was the last man on the planet that he would ever think to confide in, yet – he was seriously contemplating it. He shook his head.
“Nothing,” he replied instead.
“Don’t give me that bullshit answer. What the fuck happened to you?” Hannibal said, leaning forward.
Ross raised an eyebrow at the other man’s tone. “Why do you want to know?” he demanded.
Hannibal shook his head and wiped his mouth. Ross watched as the man’s hand dropped to his lap and he sat back. They stared at each other for several minutes, each assessing the other.
“I’ve been coming out to your boat every day for the past week. Every day it was empty – until today,” Hannibal replied.
Ross shrugged and looked down. “So? That doesn’t mean anything,” he replied.
“Don’t fucking blow me off, Ross. Your Goddamn boat has been here – in this same place – for a week with no anchor out and no one on board. I know because I tried to tow it in and it wouldn’t move, no matter how hard I tried to tow it,” Hannibal bluntly informed him.
Ross looked back up at Hannibal, registering the anger and confusion in the man’s eyes. He could understand that – after all, he’d been like that once. Angry at the world, fighting back, willing to hurt others before they could hurt you. He, Hannibal, and Nathan had grown up with the same type of fathers and the same type of poverty.
The difference was that Ross had learned from his father’s mistakes, Hannibal was destined to repeat them, and Nathan would always be a victim of it. He lifted his drink and drained the contents. He needed someone to talk to, but that person wasn’t Hannibal.
“Get off my boat, Hannibal,” Ross said, rising from his seat.
“Where are you going?” Hannibal asked, sliding off the bench and rising to his feet.
“Back to the docks. I have a few things to take care of,” Ross calmly stated.
Ross was surprised when Hannibal didn’t argue with him. The big man quietly exited the galley. Ross walked across the deck, feeling more at ease with the familiar motion of the waves. He waited while Hannibal climbed back onto his boat.
“Answer me one question,” Hannibal suddenly demanded, holding on to the gunwale of Ross’s boat to keep his from floating away.
Ross stiffened. “What do you want to know?” he asked.
“Were you abducted by aliens?” Hannibal asked.
Ross blinked at the unexpected question. This was the last thing he had expected Hannibal to ask. He thought about it for a second before he answered.
“No, I wasn’t abducted by aliens,” he replied. He saw the look of disappointment wash across Hannibal’s unexpectedly expressive face. He reached out and grabbed Hannibal’s wrist when the other man released his boat. He gave Hannibal a grim smile. “But I was killed by one,” he truthfully answered before he let go of Hannibal’s wrist.
Ross saw the stunned expression that swept over Hannibal’s face before he nodded his head and turned away. Climbing the ladder to the helm, he turned the key in the ignition. The twin-diesel engines roared to life. Pressing the throttle forward, he made a wide arc and headed back to the marina.
I’ve got a Sea Witch to visit, he thought with determination.
Two days later, Ross sat in the front seat of his pickup truck and pulled a comb through his damp hair. When he’d done what he could with his newly, professionally cut hair, he slid the comb back into the duffle bag on the seat next to him. He drummed the steering wheel while he debated how long he should wait.
He had been busy the last couple of days, putting his affairs in order. He just hoped that it wasn’t all for naught. He had cleaned out the money in his accounts and changed it to a different type of asset – gold and jewels. He didn’t know anything about currency or economics in a magical world. The only thing that might be of value were those two things.
Last night, he had visited Nathan. The younger man had been shocked and puzzled when he had asked if they could talk privately. He didn’t tell Nathan anything about what had happened to him – or that he hoped he would be leaving soon.
What they had talked about was life – and dreams. Ross thought about his apology to Nathan for how he had treated him over the years. Nathan had stutteringly told him it was no big deal. Ross felt even more like a heel when Nathan told him about how he had met a girl a year ago and that she was expecting a baby. Nathan was working hard to earn some extra cash because he wanted to buy a house and settle down.
“I want to be the kind of dad I never had. I’m not ever going to yell and hit my wife or my kid. I want – I want to go to ballgames or dances. I want my kid to remember me with love, not as an abusive drunk or worse,” Nathan had shared.
Nathan had broken the cycle and he’d known what he wanted long before Ross had realized what was important in life. Ross had known at that moment what he was going to do with his trawler and truck. He had found the truck and boat’s title and signed them over to Nathan.
“You can use the trawler, or you can sell it and use the money for a down payment on a house. Fishing is a hard life. If I were you, I’d sell it and start fresh. Same thing goes for the truck,” he had advised.
The stunned look on Nathan’s face and the sudden tears in the other man’s eyes had been all the thanks that Ross had needed. Ross had left the tavern feeling lighter in spirit. He had nothing left to keep him here. The one person that he had been surprised to see was the reporter. He had ducked out of sight when he saw her leaving the pub through the back patio. Dorothy had said the woman was staying at Mike Hallbrook’s house.
“Everyone thought you might have killed her too when she disappeared a couple of days ago and her car was found at the State Park,” Dorothy had said.
When he had asked what happened, Dorothy had shrugged and shook her head. “No one knows. She showed up again a few days later, walking along the beach. She was found by one of the park rangers. She claims she hit her head and has amnesia, but that doesn’t explain how she got a letter from Mike Hallbrook stating that she can stay in his house here as long as she wants. If you ask me, something mighty fishy is going on around here, what with all the disappearances and then the ‘oh, everything is just fine’,” Dorothy grumbled.
Ross had quickly excused himself after that. He froze when he saw the flash of headlights coming up the drive. The SUV slowed as it pulled by him. He could see Kane Field’s deep frown when the man recognized who he was.
He waited until the car had pulled up in front of the garage before he opened the door of his truck and slid out. He shut the door, slid his hands into the pockets of his dark brown leather jacket, and waited as the occupants of the car exited the vehicle. Kane slid out of the front passenger seat and turned to open the back door.
Ross stood straighter when Gabe Lightcloud walked around from the driver’s side. He looked down to Gabe’s hand when he saw the glint of metal in the glow of the headlights from his truck. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that Gabe was carrying a flashlight.
“What do you want?” Gabe demanded, walking over to stand in front of him.
“Gabe,” Magna’s soft, chiding voice called out from behind Gabe.
Ross looked over Gabe’s shoulder before he returned his focus to Gabe’s face. “I need to speak with Magna,” he politely requested.
“No,” Gabe immediately replied.
“Gabe, quit being a Neanderthal,” Kane admonished.
Ross turned his attention to Magna when she walked over to thread her arm through Gabe’s. She returned his steady gaze with a worried one. Her expression softened, and he wondered if she could sense his growing desperation.
“Come inside,” she instructed, gently pulling Gabe to the side.
“Thank you,” he replied.
They stepped up the walkway, unlocked and opened the door, and Ross followed them into the entryway.
“Jacket,” Gabe gruffly said and pointed to the coat rack.
Ross shook his head. He bent over and scratched the two dogs that had greeted them at the door when they stepped inside. He hoped there wouldn’t be any reason to take his jacket off.
“Damn it, Buck, you n
eed to tell Wilson that chew toys don’t mean destroy toys. These damn things are expensive,” Gabe growled when he stepped on a squeaker that had been ripped out of a fluffy, mangled duck.
Ross chuckled and followed Kane and Magna through the kitchen to the living room while Gabe cleaned up Wilson’s homecoming present. It was funny to see such a big, gruff guy playfully chiding the happy Husky. He hoped Gabe would be in a better mood when he rejoined them.
“I thought you had left. I heard in town that you hadn’t been seen for the last week and that your boat was missing,” Kane commented.
“I did leave – thanks to the magic shell that Magna gave me,” he replied.
Ross could sense Magna studying him. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and sat down across from the couch she was sitting on. A shiver ran through him when she waved her hand and the fireplace came to life.
“Tell me what happened,” she requested.
Ross opened his mouth and took a shuddering breath when a wave of pain at the memory of Gem’s tortured cries suddenly hit him. Tears burned his eyes, and he looked down at his hands. He rubbed them together as he fought to regain control of his emotions.
“I died – but I’m still alive. I don’t know how, but I think I know why,” he began.
“Oh Ross, I never meant for you to be hurt,” Magna murmured, sitting forward.
Ross looked up when Gabe entered. He held out a beer. Ross took the beer with a nod of gratitude.
“I have to go back. I love her, Magna. I have to go back,” he said in a voice filled with emotion.
“Where do you need to go?” Magna gently inquired.
“It’d probably make more sense if I tell you what happened. I need to know – I need to know that I wasn’t dreaming, that this – if – everything was real,” he added in a low, urgent voice.
“Take your time,” Kane said.
“This should be good. Do you want me to make some popcorn?” Gabe dryly added.
Ross chuckled and gave Gabe a rueful grin. “That may not be a half-bad idea,” he said.