The thing about the strid is nobody who falls in comes out alive.
Farther upstream, the river cuts a broad swathe through the countryside, but in Shearwater the rocks choke it to a stream so narrow you could leap from one bank to the other. Except, all that water needs a place to go, so it burrows deep, making a ravine of the rocks. No matter how strong a swimmer you are, the current is stronger. It swallows anything that falls in, and none of the song’s listeners who go in come out.
Except me.
For some reason, I floated to the surface of Shearwater Spring like a bit of flotsam caught harmlessly in the current. Every bone in my body ought to have been broken, my lungs like fishbowls. I had no right to be alive, yet I was.
But I wasn’t the same. I started seeing thatthing.
The sight of Lunaris waiting in the spa’s car park was a welcome one. I didn’t need to fumble for keys; she unlocked her doors for me the moment I touched the handle. She didn’t start the engine, though, and when I did find my keys to turn them in the ignition, she stayed stubbornly quiet.
The lights dimmed warmly in welcome, and I heard someone move in the living room. I was not alone.
I maneuvered past the driver’s seat to get to the dining area, unafraid because if something meant to harm me, Lunaris would not have let me in.
Fae, tucked into the booth around the dinner table, set down a steaming teacup. “Were you really leaving already?”
“What are you doing here?”
They looked offended. “Lunaris made me tea. I wanted to talk to you.”
“We shouldn’t.”
“I’m getting married.”
It stunned me silent. No one had told me. I’d never even met their partner. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
“Who’s the lucky—?”
“You remember Camilla Hofstedder?”
“Your straight best friend you pined over all through high school?”
“Yeah. Turns out, not so straight.” They took a sip of tea, collecting themselves. “Lunaris makes a good pot of tea. Just have one cup with me and listen, okay?”
I glanced out the window to search for any shadows, but Lunaris pointedly drew her curtains. If we were still in danger, she wouldn’t allow us to sit around nattering over tea.
“All right. Just one cup.” I sat, trying to relax, but conversations with my estranged family caused a different sort of anxiety.
Fae waited for me to get another cup for myself, but I waved for them to drink theirs. “I only have the one mug.”
At the wake, I’d only had a brief minute to talk to them before they’d been pulled away by other friends and family. This was the first moment I got to really take them in.
They’d grown out their hair. It was the same brunette as mine, with the same untamed waves, but they’d styled half of it up into a knot at the back of their head. Tattoos dotted and formed fern patterns on their thumbs, index, and ring fingers. The left ring finger had a particularly elaborate design, perhaps in place of an engagement ring.
It was otherwise difficult to recognize them or any family resemblance between us. They had a soft, forgiving face. Their eyes were warm brown instead of green. Their smile came more easily than mine.
But we’d been close, once.
“The wedding’s in a month. I want— It would be nice if you could come.”
“You know I can’t.”
They glanced at the curtained window. “It’s been years. Is it really still out there?”
“I saw it. Tonight.”
