Page 63

The canoe’s coloring had long since been bleached away by the sun and she imagined stepping inside of it would cause the rotted wood to give out, but… “It has loyally stayed here for a century, just waiting for someone to use it.” She patted its side. “I thank you for your service.”

“Do you even know what you are saying anymore?” Marcellus asked.

“Nope!” she beamed.

He couldn’t hold back his laughter anymore. Thicket watched in amazement as the corners of his eyes creased, softening the jagged edges and transforming his face. She was so transfixed by it she forgot to watch her footing. Her boot slid off the edge. The sky tilted. She caught a glimpse of the clouds before the world rotated. Arms wrapped around her waist, holding her tight as she collided with something hard but warm.

When she opened her eyes, her breath hitched. Marcellus stared back, eyes wide. Slowly, his eyes trailed to her hand, splayed across his chest.

Thicket gasped, hastening to sit up. She shrieked as the ground beneath her rocked. Marcellus was there, steadying her. “Careful.”

Water spilled in from the sides of the canoe, soaking the bottom of their clothes. It was a miracle it was even still afloat. Thicket grabbed either side of the rim, trying to still the rapid beating of her heart as much as she was the canoe. “You… You caught me,” she breathed.

“You sound surprised.” He leaned forward, forehead almost brushing hers. Thicket’s fingers dug deeper into the wood as the canoe rocked. “I think instead of being grateful, you just need to have more trust in me. I am the one tasked with ensuring your safety, after all.”

“Well, you have a funny way of showing your protective nature, Marcellus. Forgive me for not being able to tell the difference.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

“And for that, I thank you.”

“Fine,” he sighed, rising from the canoe and, with more grace than she could ever muster, climbed onto the street. “You win. I am grateful for your gratefulness.”

“Good.” She extended her hand. “Now help me up.”

The canoe wobbled as Marcellus helped her stand, yet he yanked her safely onto stable land.

“I can’t believe you went to the Lost Soul Lagoon without me!”

Thicket followed Bern’s shriek. She was at the end of the street, pummeling Elian’s shoulder with her fists. Elian did his best to shield himself from her fury. “It was a spur of the moment thing!”

“Then how did everyone but me know about it?”

In the middle of Bern’s onslaught, Elian’s eyes caught on Thicket and Marcellus as they approached. His brows pinched together, forgetting Bern’s attacks almost entirely. Bern noticed them a second later. She thrust an accusatory finger towards Thicket. “You too, Kit! I take back what I said yesterday. I hate you!”

“It’s too late,” Thicket laughed. “You already promised to stay with me, even if I go bald. You are locked in for life.”

Marcellus grunted. “That would be a sight.”

Thicket glowered and slugged him in the shoulder.

“Wait…” Bern said, eyes shifting between them. “Why are you both wet?”

Marcellus jerked a thumb in Thicket’s direction. “She fell into a canoe.”

“Hey!”

“Thicket, are you alright?” Elian asked, stepping forward, eyes trained on a small scratch on her arm.

“Oh.” She angled her arm to take a better look. “I didn’t even notice. It doesn’t hurt.”

Elian grabbed her wrist and tugged her closer. “Hold still. Gayrir.” In a blink, the scratch was gone.

“T-thank you,” she stammered. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“It was nothing. Now that I am done being beat up,” he said, with an accusatory look at Bern, “where should we go?”

Bern’s face lit up. “Since they are already wet, we should go to the beach! It is the least you owe me after leaving me out.”