Magic by the Sea

--

Chapter Twelve

Suspicions

--

‘Are you alright?’ Ruth asked loudly, bringing Ryan back to himself. The girls had come back over with the assistant. The assistant was looking at him as though trying to decide if he was mentally subpar.

‘Huh?’ he rasped, probably not helping her conclusions. Hazel snorted.

‘You drifted off in the chair. Few minutes later you went sort of rigid, then you jumped up like your ass had caught fire,’ she said. Ryan blinked. He had fallen asleep? He glanced at the cheap plastic clock that was hanging over the register. He hadn’t realised just how long he had been sitting there.

‘Oh, sorry. Guess I was more tired than I thought,’ he said rather lamely. Hazel and Ruth exchanged a quizzical look.

‘Well, we’re done. And we want donuts. You can hold our bags lazybones,’ Hazel announced. He followed dully as the girls went to the counter to pay not even bothering to wonder where they got the money to cover the outrageous total. He took the bags from the shop assistant and left the store.

Had he fallen asleep? He must have. The alternative was ridiculous. Firth wouldn’t be in a shopping centre in the middle of the day surrounded by hundreds of people. He had slept like crap the night before and was stressed. That was all.

That was all.

Like he wasn’t living a ridiculous story book nightmare where his father was a pirate and an avenging merking was attempting to kidnap him to keep him at the bottom of the ocean until the world wrote him off as a corpse.

Ryan was so caught up in his own thoughts, he nearly walked into a lamppost.

‘Oh my god, what is wrong with you today? You’re like a complete space cadet,’ Ruth snapped, dragging him out of the way of a woman, pushing a buggy, Starbucks clasped tight in one manicured hand. The woman shot him a disapproving look.

‘Sorry,’ Ryan said automatically.

‘Come on,’ Hazel said, giving him a shove. He stumbled, caught himself and walked on. Despite how wretched and tired he felt, he welcomed the smell of the food court. The scent of fried donuts made his mouth water, and he went willingly to the front counter. Ruth bought a large bag of cinnamon doughnuts with the strangely kind promise to share them. On a whim and already feeling like crap, Ryan bought a large strawberry and chocolate thick shake. The group sat down at one of the empty tables, Ryan’s arms able to relax once he had finally put down the bags.

‘The shop assistant thought you were pretty cute. Up until you had your little spaz attack,’ Hazel teased.

‘Yeah. She asked for your number. I told her not to bother, told her you were a bit touched in the head,’ Ruth cooed. Ryan rolled his eyes.

‘You’re too kind,’ he said dryly. The girls laughed.

‘She was cute too,’ Hazel added.

‘Probably good not to bother, pretty sure I’m gay anyway.’ Ruth choked on her cinnamon doughnut. Hazel dropped her spoon.

‘What!?’ they both shrieked together. Several people looked up from their tables. Ryan just sagged in his chair.

’You’re not gay! You have no fashion taste whatsoever!’ Ruth barked as if that settled the matter. Ryan smiled, poking at the whipped cream atop his shake.

‘If you say so.’ He drank down his shake and was even graced with one of Ruth’s cinnamon doughnuts. Aunt Joanne and Alice found them still sitting there half an hour later. Aunt Joanne looked pleased with herself with several boxes under one arm. Alice looked grumpy. Tyler hopped up next to his brother as Alice marched away to buy coffee and scones.

‘Where to next?’ Ruth piped up.

‘Are there any bookshops nearby?’ Ryan asked, suddenly remembering his book. Maybe if he couldn’t find his copy, he could get another one. Hazel groaned.

‘You are so boring!’ she moaned.

‘Now girls, Ryan went along with the shop you wanted to visit, I’m sure we can go see the shop he wants,’ Aunt Joanne said primly.

‘I could go by myself and come back, I know the book I’m looking for. It won’t take long,’ he said. Ruth nodded.

‘Yeah. Do that. I’m not going in a bookshop,’ she sneered, waving him off. Aunt Joanne sighed.

‘If you wish sweetie. Your mother and I will be right here with the girls and Tyler.’ Tyler was swinging his little feet, his eyes transfixed on the tiny hot chocolate and cupcake that was on the tray his mother was carrying back towards them.

‘See you soon.’ Ryan got up and disentangled himself from the girls’ shopping. He headed into the crowd, not seeing the panicked look on his mother’s face as he went.

Thankfully the bookshop wasn’t too far. He didn’t want to spend an hour going up and down levels to find the damn thing. He squeezed passed two elderly women and headed towards the fiction section. He scanned the spines for several minutes but couldn’t see it. Maybe it went under another classification?

‘Did you need a hand?’ Asked a young woman with a vibrantly red ponytail. He smiled weakly.

‘Yes actually. I’m looking for a particular book, but I can’t find the author,’ he said. She waved him over.

‘I’ll look it up on the computer for you. Do you know the book title?’ she asked. He nodded, trailing after her. They passed a table covered in blue books. The card in the centre of the table read ‘I’m not sure what it’s called but it had a blue cover…’ Ryan smiled. Down another aisle and they shuffled past another table.

Ryan glanced back at it. This one was covered in books of all colours, many of which had feathers or wings on the front cover. The card in the middle of this table read, ‘I’m not sure what it’s called but it’s got angels in it…’ They reached the counter and the woman logged in and then looked up expectantly.

‘Yes. It’s called the Lost Islands. It’s written by B.J Whitely,’ he supplied as she began to type. There was the strike of the enter key and then a few minutes of silence as she scrolled down the screen. Her brow knitted as she went.

‘I’m sorry but it isn’t coming up on the system. Could it be under another name?’ Ryan frowned.

‘Umm, no, I’m pretty sure that was it,’ he said. The sales assistant hummed interestedly. The keys clicked, her mouse clicked, and she was scrolling again.

‘Weird. It’s not coming up in a Google log search either,’ she said it with much politeness though Ryan could hear the undertone of ‘dumbass probably has the completely wrong author…’

‘I got the first copy from a second-hand sale. It was really old. Maybe it isn’t in print anymore,’ he said, shoulders slumping. She glanced up at him and gave him a warm smile.

‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sorry I couldn’t find it for you, was there anything else I could look up for you?’ she asked hopefully. Ryan shook his head.

‘No, but thanks for your help.’ As he walked away from the bookshop, he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to his original book. Had it just fallen down behind his bookcase or had his mother intervened somehow? If she had, was that because she knew a lot more about all of this than she was letting on? How was he going to get anything out of her if she continued to pretend everything was fine?

He made his way back to the food court, managing to a least not run into anymore people though twice he stopped dead because he thought he saw a figure with white hair. The first person had been a woman in a floppy hat. The second was an elderly man carrying his groceries.

Ryan rubbed at his eyes. He really was tired. And hungover.

Tyler raced over to him as he got back to the food court. His cousins were nowhere to be seen. He glanced at his mother As Tyler hung off his arm.

‘The girls wanted to look at the new jewellery place on the corner. I figured you wouldn’t be too heartbroken if they left without you,’ his aunt said with a slightly malicious grin. Ryan gave the first real smile in a long time.

‘I will try to contain myself,’ he said, flexing his arm so that Tyler could swing from it. His little brother was laughing. Alice was still scowling into her teacup. Ryan couldn’t help but feel irritation and real anger towards his mother. He knew she was trying to keep him safe but this limbo they were stuck in wasn’t helpful.

Ryan went and bought himself a coffee and Tyler another cupcake. Partly because he needed the caffeine and partly because he knew it annoyed his mother that he was supplying Tyler with more sugar. Petty maybe but he really didn’t care. They sat awkwardly for quite a while, his aunt gabbling away without the slightest realisation that no one in particular was listening. Ryan wondered vaguely if she was just happy to have an audience. Every now and then his mother gave a disinterested ‘Mmm.’ or ‘Yeah.’

‘Did you find the book you were after dear?’ his aunt asked suddenly, jolting Ryan out of the stupor he’d had fallen into.

‘No,’ Ryan said rather bitterly.

‘That’s no good. What was it? We might have something similar at home. The girls love to read.’ Ryan tried to disguise his incredulous snort as a cough. He had seen many bright and hideous things in his cousins’ room. Piles of books had not been one of them.

‘Maybe. It was about pirates, magic islands, that sort of thing.’ His voice was rather cold, and he stared at his mother as he said it. She flinched ever so slightly. Tyler was looking curiously between his brother and Alice. She didn’t look up at either of them.

‘Aren’t you a little old for that kind of fairy tale rubbish?’ Ruth said snidely as she and her sister slunk towards them carrying several more bags between them.

‘Did you find anything nice?’ Aunt Joanne expectantly. The girls dumped out their bags, chatting enthusiastically. Tyler sat there licking frosting off his fingers whilst the girl showed off their new purchases with very loud voices so that everyone else in the food court had to listen too. Once everything had been packed away and the girls were done with show and tell, Aunt Joanna glanced at the jewelled wristwatch on her rather pudgy wrist.

‘Good grief, is that the time? Its past noon!’

‘Yeah, we’re bored. Let’s go,’ Hazel said. She stood and started to walk away.

‘Well, grab something will you! Don’t be so lazy,’ she snapped waspishly at Ryan. It was on the tip of Ryan’s tongue to bark back but he just didn’t have the energy. He grabbed the abandoned shopping and followed the party back to the car.

‘You have got to be kidding me!’ Ruth howled. In the hours they had spent in the massive shopping mall it had started to drizzle again. The sight of the fresh rain did not leave Ryan feeling any better. As far as he was concerned, the rain clouds just confirmed that this day was quite as bad as the last. He shivered. As they packed the numerous shopping bags into the boot of the car Ryan couldn’t help but feel that familiar creeping unease. He glanced nervously around and caught the eyes of a couple pushing a shopping trolley full of groceries. A can skittered across the pavement, making him jump.

‘Hey, scatter brain, get in the car,’ Ruth said, jabbing him hard in the ribs. Ryan scowled and climbed into the car, shutting the door harder than was strictly necessary. The girls got into an argument on the drive home and Aunt Joanne used the car horn with great exuberance so that by the time they reached the long driveway, Ryan had the world’s worst headache.

He stumbled out of the car with something akin to longing, his ears still ringing from Ruth’s shouting. He could feel a bruise forming on his arm from where Tyler had been holding on with a death grip. He picked up his little brother and went for the house.

‘Hey! He can walk! Help us with the shopping,’ Hazel shouted.

Without turning around Ryan shouted back. ‘Carry it yourself, it’s your rubbish.’

‘Rude!’ Ruth squawked. He ignored them. When his uncle opened the door, Ryan stormed passed him without even saying hello. He carried Tyler into the living room. Grandpa Jo looked up from his newspaper.

‘Good trip?’ he asked. Ryan scowled. He put Tyler down and his little brother raced towards their grandfather and climbed into his lap, burrowing as though he could somehow escape their current reality.

‘We. Cannot. Stay. Here.’ Ryan ground out each word low and angry. Grandpa Jo gave a long heavy sigh.

‘I know,’ he mumbled but he didn’t offer anything more. Ryan turned and marched towards the spare room. He closed the door and shut the curtains on a window that was now full of rain. He pulled off his shoes and climbed desperately into the bed. He would just have a nap, try, and sleep off the migraine.

--

Ryan’s eyes flew open. He knew it was a dream but unlike every other dream he had experienced, he wasn’t underwater. It was however, bucketing down rain. It fell from the sky with ferocity, soaking him to the bone in seconds. He was standing on dark green grass, a picket fence to him left and a muddy road in front of him. Home.

He was home.

‘You.’ The word was his only warning. Ryan’s head turned as Firth, tall and powerful, slammed into him.

‘What is wrong with you!?’ Ryan shouted. Firth looked deranged. Perhaps it was the lack of ocean water that normally made the merking look ethereal but on land, his long white hair looked wilder than ever. It fell in storm blown tangles over his shoulders. He was gripping Ryan’s wrists hard. He towered over him, forcing Ryan to take a step back until he hit the damp brick of the house.

‘You said you would come back to me,’ the king hissed, showing pointed teeth. Ryan stared up at him, the rain falling in sheets, falling through his lashes, and burning his eyes.

The rain was salty.

‘I know, I will. I just need more time,’ Ryan insisted, his heart thundering in his own ears or was that the lashing waves?

‘No! You said you would come back to me! That was the vow you took. This makes it so!’ Firth grabbed the collar around Ryan’s neck and yanked on it hard making Ryan rise on the tips of his toes. Gasping in pain, he stared up at the glossy white and grey eyes.

‘You’re a liar just like your father!’ Ryan stared, open mouthed, the saltwater rain splashing his face, flattening his hair and running cold over his lips.

That… that was an odd choice of words.

‘I don’t know what you mean.’ He wondered why he felt oddly calm, like an outsider observing something playing out on a screen. He winced as the grip on his wrists tightened, the claws nicking his skin.

‘You are mine,’ Firth snarled. Then he did something Ryan was not expected.

He kissed him.

Ryan made a noise that could have been a yelp. Sharp teeth nicked his bottom lip. The kiss was cold, wet from the rain and bruising. He wrenched his head back, staring wide-eyed at the man.

‘What the hell!?’ Firth looked temporarily stunned as though he himself couldn’t believe what he had just done.

‘You have to come back.’ His voice sounded far away. The veins under his skin looked more prominent, his face strained. He seemed to be having trouble holding this human form. Was he sick?

‘I will come back. I just haven’t found what I need yet. Just let go of me,’ Ryan insisted. He was surprised by the conviction in his own voice.

‘No,’ Firth muttered. The merking leant forward and kissed him again. Ryan stood there, the rain pounding down on them, too shocked to move.

--

He woke with a start as his cousin banged on the door.

‘Ryan, dinner,’ she howled. Ryan sat up. As he opened his mouth to reply, his lip stung. He touched it gingerly. It felt swollen and split. He hurriedly turned the bedroom light on and looked down at his wrists.

They were already starting to bruise. More and more, it seemed, the dream world was coming out in the waking one. Trying not panic, he pulled on a jumper and made sure the marks were covered. This was getting bad.

He opened the door. Ruth stared up at him.

‘What the hell did you do now? Your lip is bleeding.’

‘I… uh, bit my lip,’ he said lamely.

‘You really are a nut job,’ she spat.

He followed her out into the corridor, messing his hair to give him a little more disguise. He kept his chin down as he walked into the family room. Thankfully the television was loud, the Pomeranian was barking, Tyler was laughing at Grandpa Jo balancing a spoon on his nose and Hazel was yelling at her father. Basically, it was so loud that he actually wondered how he had managed to stay asleep. No one took any notice as he sat down and grabbed for the bowl of mashed potatoes.

He ate mutely much like his mother and escaped the dinner table as soon as he could. He waited until the ear-splitting group broke up. He wished he still had his phone. As it was, he hid in the spare room with the pretence of going to bed. When the door of his cousins’ room slammed, he crept back out. Grandpa Jo was back in the big wingback armchair. Ryan stepped forward into the light. Jo jumped.

‘Oh, Ryan, you scared me. I-’

‘The book. Where is it?’ Ryan said flatly.

His grandfather pretended to read the newspaper again. He had it upside-down. ‘Book? Which one is that then?’

‘No. No, we are not doing this. You know damn well which book I mean.’

‘Ryan, watch your language, if your mother-’

‘My mother is going to get us killed,’ he spat. Silence. Jo stopped trying to read the newspaper.

‘You know this is real. I know you know more than you’ve let on. What is so important about that book? Why did she take it? Have you read it?’ Ryan shot the questions out rapid fire, his eyes darting back to the main living room where his aunt was still talking Alice’s ear off. His grandfather sighed.

‘I haven’t read the book, but I know that it covers a reasonably factual history of the islands,’ he said. Ryan frowned.

‘How do you know that?’

‘Because,’ he said, folding the newspaper in half.

‘Your father wrote it.’

--

END

--