“You really know how to make an entrance,” I whisper, reaching out to touch one of his tentacles that hangs off the side of the bed. It curls reflexively around my wrist, gentle even in his sleep.
The memory of yesterday’s chaos plays through my mind like a surreal film: Roark transforming in front of the entire town to save those sailors, Sebastian’s furious face as his plans unraveled, the kraken disappearing beneath the waves.
Then Roark’s collapse and the flurry of activity as Marina somehow convinced Dr. Rivera to come immediately. I remember Iris appearing, wings shimmering with anxiety, helping us get him home while keeping curious onlookers at bay.
I carefully untangle myself from Roark’s tentacle and tiptoe to the kitchen, desperate for coffee. To my surprise, there’s already a fresh pot brewing, and a note on the counter in loopy handwriting:
Made coffee, restocked your fridge with supplies for his recovery. Back soon with more help. —Marina
A smile tugs at my lips. Of course Marina would think of practical things like groceries in the middle of a crisis.
I pour myself a cup and walk to the window, watching the morning sun sparkle off the water. From this angle, I can’t see the damage from yesterday’s festival, but I know the harbor is still in disarray from the damaged reenactment vessel and the remnants of a celebration turned rescue mission.
I’m halfway through my coffee when there’s a soft knock at the door. I open it to find Marina balancing two large paper bags of groceries.
“You’re a lifesaver,” I say, taking one of the bags.
She gives me a quick once-over. “And you look like you haven’t slept in a week. How’s our patient?”
“Still unconscious. Dr. Rivera said he might be out for a while—blood loss and energy depletion.”
Marina follows me to the kitchen, unpacking fresh fish, vegetables, and a container of what smells like her famous chowder. “The whole town’s talking about what happened.”
My stomach tightens. “I bet they are.”
“Not like that,” she says, giving me a knowing look. “They’re calling him a hero. Those sailors would have drowned if he hadn’t intervened.”
“Really? They’re not freaking out about a cthulhu in their midst?”
Marina chuckles. “Oh, there’s plenty of freaking out. But it’s more ‘holy shit, did you see that’ than ‘grab your pitchforks.’ The Donahues are already selling ‘Cape Tempest Cthulhu Hero’ t-shirts at their shop.”
I laugh despite myself. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
I shake my head. “What about Sebastian?”
Marina’s expression darkens. “No sign of him since he took off yesterday. Coast Guard’s keeping an eye out, but…” She shrugs. “Selkies are notoriously hard to track when they don’t want to be found.”
“I still can’t believe he manipulated that poor kraken just to cause trouble.”
“Bitterness does terrible things to people. And Sebastian’s been nursing his grudge for decades, apparently.” She squeezes my arm. “Try not to worry about him right now. Focus on getting Roark back on his feet—er, tentacles.”
After Marina leaves, promising to return with more supplies later, I take a quick shower and change into fresh clothes. When I check on Roark, I find his eyes open, watching me with tired affection.
“Hey there, hero,” I say softly, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Not… hero,” he rasps. “Just did… what was needed.”
“Tell that to the sailors who would be fish food without you.” I reach for the glass of water on the nightstand. “Think you can drink something?”
He nods weakly, and I help him lift his head just enough to take a few sips. His tentacles twitch with the effort.
“How bad?” he asks.
“The doctor says you’ll recover fully. Just need rest and lots of protein.” I smile. “Marina’s stocked us with enough seafood to feed an army.”
He attempts a smile, but it turns into a grimace. “And the town? Are they upset?”
