He shrugs. “As your sulky friend pointed out, I’ve got an ironic curse going, which seems to complicate the water magic.”
“It doesn’t seem like anyone’s written much about ironic curses, water or otherwise, so Honey’s not been able to find anythingfor you. Yet.” I have full faith in Honeyrose’s unparalleled ability to find anything, eventually.
“Like I said, you and I should write the book.”
“Did you say that?”
“Something like that.”
“It’s hard to remember, what with the endless nonsense that comes tumbling out of your mouth.”
He chuckles.
“Anyway,” I continue, “what little I’ve been able to find out about ironic curses is that they’re generally reallysmall, like the one Sasha mentioned: always spilling when she wears white. Yours is so…so big.”
“Why, thank you,” he says, smiling broadly.
Irritatingly, I blush, making him chuckle again.
“You know what I mean,” I continue, trying not to sound too put out. Laughter bubbles up from the back room, though they’re too far away to hear us; it’s likely just a normal teen girl thing.
“I do,” he says, relaxing into another of his boneless poses and examining his nails. The picture of nonchalance.
“But it’s really hard to know, if you won’t tell me what the sea witchactually said to you. The words of the curse are extremely important; everything I’ve read agrees on that single point.” Nothing else, but that one point.
He takes a deep breath, then turns and faces me. His expression has lost its usual vague charm. “Tandy,” he says, suddenly very serious. “I’ve made my peace with the idea that my curse is likely unbreakable. I doubt very much I’ll be heading back to the sea ever again. I appreciate your interest, but honestly…” He trails off. “I don’t think you should worry about my curse.”
“You’re giving up?” I gasp. “How can you just…give up?”
“I’m not giving up. I’m accepting the inevitable.”
“Nothing’s inevitable,” I say, stepping round the desk so I’m looming over him. Well, properly speaking, I’m only standing before him, but, given that he’s sitting, I—for once—have a slight height advantage. “How can you even say that?”
He looks away. After a long moment, he speaks, and his voice is low and sad. “What happens if you never break your curse?”
“I suppose…” I pause. I’ve turned the thought over in my head, but I’ve never said it aloud. “I’ll live my whole life knowing that my heart’s desire was something I could have had, and I couldn’t…find it, or reach it, or unlock it. Or even figure it out.” The thought is rather deflating, so I sit on the stair below his. He’s very close; I can feel the heat from his body, and the salty sea-air scent of him fills my senses.
“It’s a terrible possibility. So Ican’tgive up,” I conclude.
“But what happens if you don’t break it? You’ll spend your whole life trying, yearning for something you might or might not ever achieve, rather than simply living. I haven’t given up. I’m just making my peace with…with living.”
“It wouldn’t be the worst thing to stay here,” I murmur.
“That’s all I’ve been trying to say.”
We fall silent, long enough that I start to worry that I might be tempted to do something really wild. “But my mother will murder me,” I add. “There’s simply no way it can happen. Honey will find a sorcerer. She’s been to see the Dark Wizard now, you know.”
“I’d expect no less from all I’ve heard about the wildly efficient Honeyrose,” he says.
“We’ve got it!” Sasha yells, bursting out of my room. Amaritha is trailing behind her, carrying her portfolio. “Ama totallynailed it.”
Amaritha blushes and sets a few sheets of paper down beforeme. Each has a version of the nameGreen Dragon Bookshopsketched out, arranged around an illustration: a dragon reading a book, a dragon curled around a book, a dragon peeking out from under a book.
“This one’s my fav,” Sasha says, tapping a claw against a charming sketch of a tiny green dragon asleep on a stack of books.
“Mine, too,” I say, smiling.
“Adorable,” Bash says, leaning over us, and I glare at him. He smiles innocently at me. “It is,” he says. Well, perhaps he’s not being completely insincere. For once.
