Song of the Sea

Chapter 11

I wake up to an empty bed. I lay there for a bit, wondering where he went when he emerges from the bathroom.
"Hey, sleepyhead. How'd you sleep?" he asks. He buttons up his shirt and walks to the mirror. I watch as he fixes his hair. He turns back to me. "Are you just going to stare at me all day, which I'm fine with, or are you going to answer?" I shut my mouth.
"I sleep very well." I push the covers back. "Can I use your shower?" He smirks.
"Go ahead, angel. Do you mind if I peek?" He ducks as I throw a pillow at him. I walk into the bathroom. "I didn't hear you say no!" he calls after me.
"No!" I yell back. I turn the shower on and wait while it gets hot. I step in. As I wash, I wonder what will happen today. I turn the shower off and stand there for a minute. My stomach is in knots. I grab a towel and go to find some clothes. Aric is nowhere to be seen. I sneak back to my room and close the door behind me.
"There you are," a voice says behind me. I almost drop my towel and spin around. Cai is sitting in the same place Joan occupied last night. I glance around and don't see her anywhere. "Looking for someone?" Cai asks. "He's not here. But I guess you already knew that," he says with a pointed look at me.
"It's not what you think it is, Cai," I say.
"No? What does it look like? Like you spent the night with him? That you slept with him? No, that's not what happened and not what it looks like. Care to explain then?"
"Yes, I spent the night with him, but we didn't do anything! We just talked."
"Yeah, right. Then why are you in a towel?"
"I showered in his room. That's it. Nothing. Happened."
He just grunts. "I'm not in charge of you, Mira, but maybe be careful who you share a bed with."
"Please leave, Cai. I have business to attend to."
"Business with him?" I stay silent. "Of course you do." He sneers and walks out. I debate whether or not I should run after him, but he's being weird. I stand there while he leaves, then I get dressed. I pull on a black top with ruffled sleeves and a white skirt. Knee-high black boots go onto my feet and I pull my hair into a chignon. I look around for Joan once more then go back to Aric. He is right where I left him, sleeping again. He looks so peaceful. I walk back out, leaving Aric to his beauty sleep. I go down to the kitchen and grab a pastry. A sign for a party hangs on a door and I look at it. Acrobats will be performing and it's after dark. I shrug. Maybe I will go. I push open the door and walk out.
I step out into the street. A young boy races past me, knocking the parcel out of my hands.
"Oops! I'm so sorry, miss," the boy stammers. Ink is smudged on his hands and face. A small cap rests on brown curls. "I'll get that for you."
"Oh, no, it's quite alright," I say. I bend down and gather it in my arms. "You must be late for something. May I ask what it is?" The boy beams.
"We're getting a new printing press! It's supposed to work twice as fast as the one we already have." He bounces. "I'm supposed to help set it up." I am intrigued. This island has so many different trinkets.
"May I come?" I ask. "I am very curious."
"Of course! We'll have to hurry though. I'm James. Who are you?"
"I'm Mirabel. It's a good thing I am wearing my trousers today, then."
We race through the streets. The boy is just a blur in front of me, and I only know where he is going by the sound of screaming. Men and women fall out of the way as we barrel past. We come to a stop in front of a small shop. A sign hangs in the grimy window. Al's Printing Store. I push open the door, and a bell tinkles. Dust swirls up around me. Sunlight filters in from the windows, illuminating the store. A wood desk stands in the middle of the floor. A humming sound comes from the ceiling. A spiral staircase leads upwards just behind the desk. A tug on my sleeve makes me look down.
"We have to go this way." James points to a dark corner. Another set of stairs is there. "The ceiling is blocked off, so the only way is those. They used to be servant's stairs before we decided it was bad to hold a person as property."
"So, you don't have servants here? What do you do about your clothes and food?"
"You've made your own food before, right?"
"Only here. Where I'm from, we still have servants to do everything for us. I never realized that you didn't have servants."
"Yeah, well, when you have everything, why would you notice if something is out of the ordinary?" He points to the stairs. "Now, come on. We need your help." The stairs creak as I step onto the first ledge. I push on it, and it splinters.
"Are you sure this is safe?" I ask. James is already several steps ahead.
"Of course! I've been up and down so many times. It's not going to break." He practically flies up the rest. I sigh and take a step. Without looking down, I race up, barely breathing, afraid of what lies below. I make it to the top and gasp. The room is exquisite. Antiques cover every surface available. I see some antlers on a wall with the label, Wendigo. I look over next to it and see a golden shield. I walk over.
"Is this...?" I read the label. "The Shield of Heracles. It's real."
"Of course it's real!" boomed a voice. I spin around and nearly faint. A giant of a man is standing before me, wearing an apron with stains that look suspiciously like blood. I should not have come here. First, the staircase, and now a giant? I close my eyes and prepare to be killed. "Why on earth would it not be?"
"Sir, she's here to help put together the press." James' voice comes from near my elbow. "Shall we get started?" I slowly open my eyes. The giant has come closer, and I realize the apron has colorings all over it. He has a mustache that quivers as he sighs.
"Yeah, right this way, miss." He walks over to a giant machine in the corner. "I need help assembling this."
"Why do you need my help? You look perfectly capable," I ask. My voice comes out all trembly. James seems to pick up how scared I am. He skips over.
"Don't worry. This is Mr. Bob. He's not as scary as he looks. He's a marshmallow once you get to know him." I glance over. He is struggling to hammer a nail. As I watch, he accidentally slams his hand. He lets out a curse. "He likes to bake cookies, and he lets me color on his apron. He looks after me. He won't hurt a fly." I sigh.
"Okay, little guy. I'll help. But this doesn't mean that I'm not still terrified. What do you need me to do?" He beams.
"Okay, come here." He drags me over to the press. "We need you to reach into the opening and grab that wire. Once you do, you can't let go until Mr. Bob says it's okay. Got it?"
"Hold the wire, don't let go. I got this." I reach in. Mr. Bob grabs my hand.
"Wear gloves. You don't know what will happen." He grabs a pair and thrusts it at me.
"What will happen?" I stammer as I pull them on.
"Ready? Grab it!" Mr. Bob pulls a lever. I reach in and grasp the wire. The machine chugs to life and lets out a puff of smoke. Gears turn as it warms up. James squeals and runs over to a cluttered table. He grabs a can of ink and pours it into a funnel. Mr. Bob stuffs some papers into another part of the machine. A series of clicks happen, and the ink begins to dot the pages. The wire I am holding begins to grow warm.
"Um, guys? Is the wire supposed to heat up?" I ask. They don't pay me any attention. Mr. Bob has run over to a camera and is videotaping it. James runs around screaming. The machine shudders and whistles. "Guys!" The wire grows hotter and hotter.
"Okay, miss! Let go of the wire! Run back as far as possible! We don't know what will happen!" I count to three. One. James stops screaming. Two. The machine stops shuddering. Three. The wire burns through the glove as I yank away. I sprint behind a table with James. A couple of clicks come from the machine. Mr. Bob inches closer.
"Mr. Bob! Stay away before we know-" The machine explodes. I throw myself over James to protect him. Pieces of metal fly everywhere and bounce off walls. Ink splatters like blood onto the floor.
"Mr. Bob!" James screams. I hold him down until the wreckage falls to the floor. He runs over to his body. "Oh, no! Miss, please help!" I clamber up. My head rings and I feel something warm trickle down my cheek. I press a hand to my forehead. It comes away bloody. I stagger over to James. I behold the body. Cuts slice all over, and his apron hangs in tatters. A piece of glass sticks out of his chest.
"James, there's nothing we can do." I crouch down beside him. "He's gone."
"No, he's not. He's always come back. It just takes a few minutes. Help me get him to his bed." I sigh. If it helps James, then I'll do it. But he will need to know he really is gone. I rip a piece of his apron and press it against my forehead. I search for a piece of wood to use a stretcher while James sobs over his body. I find a reasonably sized piece and bring it over. James rolls Mr. Bob onto it, and we lift. James leads the way into a small room I hadn't noticed before. We carefully set him down on the bed, and James pulls up a chair. "Now we wait." I sit on the bed and rub his back.
"I know it can be difficult to realize, but he really is gone." James ignores me. He pulls the piece of glass from Mr. Bob's chest and tosses it on the ground. "James, look at me. I know it's difficult to deal with and to accept. Come stay with me for a bit. You'll be taken care of." James shakes his head.
"I'm staying here. He will wake up, and I know so because it's happened before. Look. His wounds are closing." I sigh. "Look!" I look. Sure enough, the wounds are closing. I tear open his shirt and see the skin knitting itself back together.
"You were right," I say in amazement. "Is he immortal?"
"He'll explain when he wakes up." I nod. My brain feels fuzzy. So much has happened in so little time.
"I'm going to leave you to some privacy when he wakes up." I stand up and wobble to the door. Once in the store, I breathe deeply. The image of the dead body will never leave me. I walk around, looking at the objects. I am surprised to see that nothing was damaged as if a shield had been placed around the room. There is a bone flute in a glass case, and beside it is a drawing of a man. I keep looking. A statue of a warrior made out of sone catches my eye. It has armor and looks very human-like. Except it's made of stone.
"It's an ancient warrior," a deep voice says. Mr. Bob is standing with an arm wrapped around James in the doorway. "I discovered them in a cave and took one for examination. There must've been at least 5,000. I left the rest for some humans to discover in the future." I run over and hug him.
"I thought you were dead! How are you not?"
"I am half-giant, half-immortal. So, I am super strong and super big, and cannot die. Before you ask, yes, I was trained in war. Who do you think caused the Great Flooding of Stolt? Then I met my beautiful lover, Denarius. He was the first bone flute player, you know. You might've seen it. The picture beside it is him. I miss him so much. I tried to make him immortal so he could be with me forever, but nothing worked." James hugs his leg. "I would do anything to just say goodbye, one last time." He said anything, I can do anything, a voice murmurs in my head. Tell him that you can bring him back, in exchange for the warrior. Nobody should know of it yet.
"Please, excuse me for a minute," I say. Mr. Bob blinks.
"Sure, go ahead. I'll just be over here."
I turn away. What do you mean, bring him back? I ask. I don't know how to do that.
I will do it. Just tell him to return the warrior.
"Mr. Bob?" I squeak. He looks at me. I gulp. "I can bring Denarius back."
"What? How?" He runs over to me. "Please, how can you do it? I've tried everything." I look at the desperation in his eyes.
"You will have to return the warrior though."
"Okay. How do I bring him back?" My vision fades to black, and I feel a rush of power flood my body.
"Rise, you who sleeps in stone and clay, head this call, rise up, come back through the Mortal door, and assemble, breathe, and walk once more," I chant. Wind gusts through the room. The sun disappears. I open my eyes. A transparent image of a young man appears. He has long brown hair and a sharp jawline. Mr. Bob collapses against the wall.
"Denarius?" he whispers. He stares in awe. "Is it really you?"
"Come find out," the man says. With every step Mr. Bob takes, the man becomes less transparent. Denarius holds out his hand, and Mr. Bob takes it. When they're fingers meet, a flash of white erupts. I collapse on the floor.
When I come to, Mr. Bob and Denarius are locked in an embrace. Sunlight streams through the window and surrounds them with a glow. I smile at them. I notice James staring open-mouthed. I scoot backward, trying to escape unnoticed. James sees me. He comes flying at me and tackles me with a hug. Mr. Bob breaks apart and comes to get James.
"Thank you," he says. "I am forever in your debt." A burning sensation makes me look at my wrist. The band is gone.
"No. I am in yours." I bow, and they bow back. As I exit, I hear Denarius exclaim when he sees the room.
"What is all this stuff?"
Thank you, I think to the voice. For everything. It doesn't respond and my head drops. A feeling of disappointment curls in my stomach. Then I hear it.
You're welcome.