Restless Waves

Chapter 7

Rowan felt as if 500lbs of ice squished his entire body. He couldn't move. His limbs fused at the joints as if planks of wood replaced his arms and legs. He felt like he had been buried alive.

"He's not waking back up," he heard a familiar voice. It sounded like his mother, but softer.

"His veins are turning normal again, that's a good sign, but he's still freezing," another familiar voice said. Rowan knew that was his father.

Rowan felt something warm brush his cheek. Maybe it was the back of someone's hand. "He just needs sleep."

"Mandy, our son had been lying in the sea for six hours with Thalassic Mortal poison all over his body. He needs more than just sleep. Get out. Let me deal with this," Michael said, and Rowan heard footsteps leaving.

Rowan then felt something warm on his hand. Maybe his dad was holding it. He tried to concentrate on moving or even opening his eyes, but his eyelids were just too heavy. Trying to wake up was only dragging him deeper into his mind.

Then, like Rowan's consciousness was made of paint that had been left to run down a canvas, he flowed down and down and down until he dripped from the bottom and fell into a pit of darkness.

* * * * *

All Rowan could see were purple eyes shining against the moonlight. All he could remember was being dragged around the rocks and chucked onto the sand. The sand had felt as hard as concrete. Getting dropped onto it from the rocks had knocked him out. Perhaps a few hours had gone by, and the next time he had woken up, something was awkwardly shoving him further up the sand because of the tide that washed over him. Then eventually, Rowan remembered getting rolled over and staring up at his father's face. The relief must have embedded into him because soon after that, he closed his eyes and wasn't able to open them again.

Rowan didn't know how long he had slept, and he didn't know where he was when he woke up, but the sun was shining through the open window. Rowan's throat felt sore, and his limbs still felt heavy. He made a low noise when he was able to move his fingers. They tingled from pins in needles as if his arms lay in an awkward position for hours.

When his eyes scraped open, the corners felt crusty, and his eyes stung from the moment the air touched them. Rowan shut them with a frown. He lifted his hand from his side, and his knuckles fell onto his face.

"Rowan!" a voice gasped, and some took his hand and pulled it back to his side.

Rowan forced his eyes open and once again found himself staring up into his father's face. This time, his dad didn't look like he was about to break down.

"Hey," Michael said softly, staring deeply into his son's eyes, trying to make sure Rowan could see him. "Finally, you're awake."

Rowan's gaze moved around the room. He was in his bedroom and lying on his bed. "H-How long?" he croaked, and Michael understood.

"You've been asleep for three days. I was starting to worry." Michael sat on the side of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

There was an odd shine in Michael's eyes. Rowan thought he looked like he was recovering from seeing a ghost. More likely, Michael was still recovering from almost losing his son forever. "Weird," Rowan whispered. "I feel like I have bad flu or something."

"That's what severe sleep deprivation, hypothermia, and Thalassic Mortal poison will do to you," Michael said, gently patting the back of Rowan's hand. "You were barely alive when we found you. How on earth did you make it to the shore?"

"That's what I would like to know too," Mandy said, and Rowan noticed her standing in the doorway. "You had the poison in you for about six hours. It should have killed you in two." She walked over to the bed and stood at the bottom. Her voice was still soft, and her eyes dimmed from guilt. "What happened after you were pulled off the boat?"