Grumbling, Surot said, “Well, we arenotassholes.”
“Good,” Marin said. “And yes, your artisans did a magnificent job.”
Surot wasn’t mollified. “You should try being more trusting.”
“The last time I trusted too much, people I love got hurt. I try not to repeat mistakes.” She tried to say it lightly, as if it were just her policy, but she heard the old hurt sneak into her voice.
“Ahh.” Surot’s voice changed completely, and Marin glanced at her. She looked as if she’d sipped sweetened chocolate. “Iknewthere was some reason that boy was not in your bed. I have seen the way he looks at you and the way you look at him, and I couldn’t make it make sense. Family didn’t approve, eh? Or is it an ex-lover causing problems? Been betrayed before and now you have difficulty trusting your instincts and everyone else’s intentions?”
Wait, that wasn’t what she’d meant, though Surot was right. Still… “Dax isn’t… We aren’t…” Firmly, she said, “I value him.And of course I admire his musical talent.” She might not have conservatory training, but she knew she liked to listen to his songs as much as the dragon did. He was special. More than that, he was earnest. And kind. Look how he treated Ree and Perri. And she liked the way his eyes lit up when he saw something new. So, yes, she felt… a lot for him, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be practical about their future.
Ree leaned against her ankle. “Marinlikeshim.”
It was clear both Surot and Ree were delighted with this idea.
“We often hear in songs and stories about two souls who are matched by the stars,” Surot said, as if imparting wisdom. “Their fire draws them to one another until they create an inferno together. You ask your lover boy about that, and I bet he’d sing you a litany of songs about fiery love and destiny. But that’s not the love that lasts. Oh, it’s fine, of course. You get one of those soul-consuming fire loves, and you don’t need wood for the winter. You’ll heat yourselves until you burn to a crisp. Better, though, is a quieter love. Like you two.”
Stepping backward, Marin held up her hands. “There’s no ‘us two.’ He’s my friend. My crew. My travel companion, until it’s safe for him to return home. Hecan’tbe more. He has to return to Alyssium. He has a life there. This is, at best, a temporary friendship.” It was all it could be. Love wasn’t enough. There were practical considerations too. “I’m being sensible.”
Surot continued on as if Marin hadn’t protested. “Most of the time, love grows. You share experiences. Joys. Sorrows. But more importantly, the little moments. You begin to shape yourself around the other person. You may not even notice it at first, but over time, who you are stretches and shrinks and bends and twists until the two of you fit together.That’sthe best kind of love: going through life side by side. Friends who become more but most importantly stay friends, through themoreand thelessand the everyday.”
Marin shook her head. They didn’t understand. It wasn’t aboutfeelings. Maybe, yes, she did love him, but they both had responsibilitiesthat were going to take them in opposite, incompatible directions. “We can’t…”
“It’s nice to not go through life alone,” Surot said. “Don’t deny yourself that joy. Share your sunrises and your sunsets.”
She had the sudden sense that Surot wasn’t talking about her and Dax anymore. Surot was looking up at the mountain beyond the village, and Marin was certain she was remembering someone. Quietly, she asked, “Who were they? Your love.”
“She was a dragon,” Surot said with a sigh as heavy as the north wind. “My dearest friend, to begin with and to end with. This village was her hoard. She collected us, or the ancestors of many of the people you see now. She knew we needed a home, a purpose, and she found us and brought us here. Like you and your musician, we could not have been more different in our lives before we met, but we grew together. Changed together. Built lives together.”
Marin tried not to look startled—this village wasn’t newly built, plus Dax had known of the dragon-tenders from an old ballad. She remembered Surot saying she was two hundred years old and then laughing it off. Maybe that hadn’t been a joke.
Ree hopped forward on the dock until he planted his roots in front of Surot. “Can we go back to the first part? Your love was a dragon? Is it rude to ask how that worked?”
“Yes,” Marin told him.
“Not all of us have the same needs, even among the same species,” Surot said. “You do not need to make love to have love.”
“Ah, I see,” Ree said.
Marin wasn’t sure he did, given that he was a plant, but whatever.
“Love is choosing to spend your day with someone, and then choosing to spend another and another, until at last you’ve spent a lifetime, and there are no more days left.” Surot let out a wistful sigh. “I don’t regret a single day I spent with her, only the days that I didn’t.”
Ree said stoutly, “I think your love would make a great song.”
Surot smiled. “Then someday you can be the one to sing about it.Her name was Nessa, and her scales were as blue as the sea, her eyes as gold as the sun, and her wings as black as shadow.”
“Ooh, I’ll do it. I’ll write your song and sing it everywhere we sail,” Ree promised.“Scales as bluuuue as the blue-blue sea, love as true as the honey bee…”
Marin kept herself from smiling. The little shrub was so earnest and sweet. She wouldn’t mind at all if he sang his songs at every port, though she wasn’t sure about the “honey bee” rhyme.
Ree cut himself off. “Dax will help me make it better.”
“I’ll go find him and let him know we’re ready to sail at dawn,” Marin said. She retreated down the dock, leaving Ree to muddle through his rhymes and Surot to bask in memories.
Marin knew where to find Dax: up the mountain, with the dragon. Long before she saw him, she heard him. He was singing today, no instrument, and his voice was deep and soft, carried by the wind and drifting over the rocks. She couldn’t pick out words and thought maybe there were no words to it, only melody.
She tried to push her conversation with Surot out of her mind. The fact that she was in love with Dax didn’t change the fact that he wasn’t going to be staying in her life, not on a daily basis anyway. As soon as it was safe again in Alyssium, he was going to return to the conservatory. He was supposed to be performing for vast concert halls filled with appreciative audiences, not singing for a solitary dragon on a bare mountainside, though it was nice the dragon was appreciative.
