Grinning, Marin elbowed Rijes. “Told you so.”
At least she’d been instrumental in several happy endings. That was going to have to be enough. She wondered if that could be hernew purpose. Maybe she shouldn’t be a supply runner. Maybe she could help people who needed a new home.
But that didn’t feel right either. Not without Dax.
Nothing felt right without him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
It was the singing plants that decided her.
Marin walked into the rose greenhouse for the Winter Feast, and the plants were crooning in harmony and she thought,Dax would love this.
He should be here.
It didn’t take any longer than that. It wasn’t anything more profound or climactic. There was no grand screaming-crying-heartfelt conversation or any near-death experience to cause an epiphany. It was just this: Dax had never heard a chorus of singing plants, and he would have loved it.
Ree was right.
Perri was right.
Dax did love music. He loved the conservatory, full of centuries of song. But he also loved the sea, full of wonders and its own kind of music. He deserved to make his own choice with the full knowledge that it was a choice.
Wrapped in the music of the singing plants, it felt so clear. Perri’s splash hadn’t snapped her out of it. Ree’s lecture hadn’t done it. But a wordless song cracked her open. While she was feeling as if she’d been turned upside down and shaken, everyone else was feasting. Rijes was chatting with one of Marin’s refugees, the elderly lady with faded tattoos of flowers on her cheeks, and the refugee child wasrunning around happily with one of the gardener’s relatives. Terlu was beside her reclusive gardener, who looked torn between being incandescently happy and wanting to flee. Above, a winged cat with gray fur and emerald wings perched on the rafters, and tiny dragons swooped between draped ribbons. Over it all, the music swelled and soared with joyfully discordant enthusiasm.
Marin picked her way across the greenhouse, ducking under fat roses with a scent as fragrant and rich as any of the meals being carried out and laid on the table. She found Ree, surrounded by his family. He was regaling them with tales of the giant dragons of Ilreka and how one dragon in particular loved music.
“Ree,” Marin said. “The wind has shifted.”
He broke off his story. “It has?”
“If you want to stay with your family and finish the solstice, I’ll understand.”
He hopped toward her. “Are we going back to Alyssium?”
“Yes, the winds have shifted that way.” Now that she’d decided to go, she didn’t want to delay even another minute. She knew exactly where Dax would be five days from now. She needed to be there too.
But her loyal myrtle only said, “Then let’s go, Captain.” He didn’t ask why the change of heart or sayI told you so. She was grateful for that. She felt as if she was vibrating with the need to go right now with no further words and no further delay.
“Ree, you just got home,” one of the other plants complained.
With gusto, Ree sang,“The sea calls to meeeee, for she, she is my home—”He hopped out of the greenhouse, and she followed as he sang,“The blue-blue sea, she calls to meeee…”
Perri was swimming by the dock with a flock of seabirds circling overhead, as well as a few tiny dragons. He was tossing tiny minnows to the dragons, but he stopped as Marin and Ree made their way down the dock.
Belatedly, she wondered if she should have said goodbye to Rijes, but no, she was certain that Rijes would understand. She thought there might be quite a lot that the former head librarian understood.She also doubted that Terlu would mind, given the way she and the gardener were staring at each other. She probably wouldn’t even notice that Marin and Ree had left.
Marin asked Ree, “Are you sure you’re all right with leaving so soon?”
“Family should spend the solstice together,” Ree said.
“Exactly. I could pick you up when I return for the next delivery—”
Ree laid a branch on her ankle to cut her off. “I don’t mean my birth family. I meanourfamily. Minus the cat, but he’s with his other family.”
It could be that their time together—as a family—was over, and if it was… She’d mourn it, but not until then. Dax deserved to have the choice of whether to stay or sail, and she needed to tell him… oh, all the things she hadn’t said out loud! At the very least, he should know that he was welcome to sail with them, if he wanted. She wasn’t sure she’d ever told him that specifically. He’d bargained to sail with her for a while, until it was safe to return to the conservatory, but he might not know she wanted him to keep sailing with them. He deserved to know that before he decided. He didn’t have to continue in the life that other people had planned for him. He could choose the sea, if he wanted. “Dax wanted us to come back and hear his opus. And then it’s up to him what he wants to do.” He’d said he wanted to talk about the future; he deserved to have that conversation. So did she.
“He’s still part of our crew, though, isn’t he?”
