Tides of Tranquility Page 14

  “It does seem a lot smaller than I remember,” Varia commented.

  “That’s because you were smaller then,” Aazuria said softly. She moved over to the kitchen and opened a pantry door, indicating the marks that recorded Varia’s height at various ages. “Look, darling. This is how tiny you were. It seems like just yesterday we were standing here taking measurements, and now you’re taller than me.”

  “Wow, you were a little shrimp,” Glais commented. He had found a bundle of papers in a corner, and he held them up jokingly. “Also, it looks like we’ve found the subterranean Louvre!” The pictures depicted Varia’s earliest artwork.

  She snatched them away from him before giving him a wry look. “So what, I drew stick figures with crayons! Don’t make fun of me. I had never seen any kind of real art.”

  “This cabin is quite remarkable,” Dr. Rosenberg mused. “It filters fresh drinking water from the lake, and fresh air from above. It even has quite the advanced little lavatory.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, none of that is important. We’re here to talk about what this place means to both of you.”

  “Can I show Glais the lake?” Varia asked excitedly as she placed her hands on the giant double-door lock system. “Please, Mother. The water is the purest, freshest I’ve ever breathed, better than anywhere in the world. I want to see if my little ice-house is still there.”

  “Sure, sweetheart,” Aazuria said weakly. She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned against the wall as she watched Varia and Glais chatter excitedly as they removed some of their outer clothing. The heavy winter coats would be far too cumbersome for swimming in the warm lake. Varia expertly used the mechanism of the doors, and within a few minutes, the kids had disappeared out into the lake.

  “It wasn’t all bad,” Aazuria told her husband and the doctor. She felt the sudden strange urge to offer them some kind of hospitality, as though they had stepped into her home. She moved over to the kitchen, and stared at the burner with a vacant expression. “Would either of you like a cup of coffee?” she whispered. “Maybe tea? The honey won’t be expired. I’m pretty sure there’s still some rice that’s tightly sealed as well…”

  She could almost feel the men exchanging looks behind her back. Aazuria swallowed. “I can make plain rice taste pleasant enough. You would be surprised how appetizing rice can be when you’re starving. I asked Prince Zalcan to bring me some spices, and I managed to work with them. I had never really cooked for myself in my life, but I learned quickly. Spices are important.”

  Dr. Rosenberg cleared his throat. “Queen Aazuria, how do you feel about being back in this place?”

  She turned to him, with fury flashing in her eyes. “How can you expect me to answer that? There aren’t words in the English language to describe the pounding in my head, the nausea in my gut, and the aching in my chest. I feel miserable and resentful, hostile, cheated, and perhaps even nostalgic—and disgusted with myself for feeling nostalgic—all at once. I feel like I’m exactly where I stood five years ago, and like breaking free and saving Adlivun was just a dream. I feel like I’m going to wake up and find that Trevain was never here in this room with me—he’s still on the other side of the planet. I feel like I want to go home.”

  “To Adlivun?” the doctor asked.

  She frowned. “I don’t know. I’ve moved around so much that I don’t know where my home is anymore. My thoughts are scattered and fragmented. Is it the small Norwegian kingdom where I grew up—my father’s land? Is it the even smaller Celtic tribes of my mother’s homeland? Is it among the Rusalka where I learned to dance? Is it Adlivun where I became an adult and learned to rule? Is it here in Lake Vostok where I became a mother? I know that I owe something to all of the places and people I’ve encountered. I owe them my leadership in keeping them safe, but I’m not sure if I feel safe anywhere. I’m so tired. I just want to rest.”

  “You sound like you’ve spread yourself a bit too thin,” observed Dr. Rosenberg. “It’s only natural to experience burnout after all you’ve been through. Where do you want to go to rest, Queen Aazuria?”

  She shook her head and lifted her shoulders in confusion. “I—I want to see my sister again. I want her to come home; it was always her wisdom that kept me strong. I don’t care about all these foolish problems we’ve had; my daughter should grow up knowing someone like Elandria.” Aazuria turned on Trevain suddenly. “How could you do that to her? How could you send my sister away?”

  “I did it for you,” he said quietly. “She agreed to go. Why are you bringing this up now?”

  “Because she’s in prison. She’s in exile, and it’s no different than what I suffered here!” Aazuria flung her hands out to indicate the small cabin. “You heard what Varia said about the way she’s being kept. Elandria won’t be able to bear such conditions. Corallyn is gone. My mother and father are gone. I can’t lose Elandria too!”

  “Hey, hey… it’s okay,” Trevain said, moving to her side. “I’ve been worried about Elan for a while, but I was hesitant to talk to you about it. I didn’t want you to think I was prioritizing her over you…”

  “What?” Aazuria said harshly. “Why would I be upset about you prioritizing my sister’s safety over anything?”

  “I’m sorry. I just—after what I did…” Trevain took a deep breath, looking to the doctor for help. Finding none, he turned back to his wife. “Look, we’ll find a way to get Elandria home. I’m bothered about what the priestess will do if we break our pact, but we should be able to negotiate something.”

  “I don’t care if it kills me, Trevain. You should have left me dead to begin with. There are so many things in my past I don’t want to face. I’m just too broken to deal with all of this.” She waved at the dirty coffeemaker, poorly-mended chair, and the small bed that had remained unmade for five years. “I don’t want to be here right now. I can’t cope with what happened. I just wish you had let me die peacefully.” Aazuria moved over to the cot and sat down, hearing the familiar squeak beneath her weight. She allowed her body to lean against the wall, her head angling forward so her hair fell around her face like a curtain of concealment.

  “For what it’s worth,” said Dr. Rosenberg, “if this Mother Melusina woman is trying to manipulate you into believing that she had something to do with Aazuria’s revival—I can almost guarantee that it was Dr. Sionna Ramaris who is responsible for that miracle.”

  Trevain swallowed. “Yes, Aunt Sio brought Aazuria back to life—but she was in a coma. Her vital signs were fine, but my aunt said that she would never regain consciousness. Mother Melusina claims responsibility for returning her soul to her body. Doctor—I don’t know what you believe, and I don’t know if there’s even room for ‘belief’ in the vocabulary of a medical practitioner, but this woman is powerful. She does things we don’t understand. Aunt Sio might be able to bring a few laboratory animals back to life, but what do we know about their souls?”

  “I can’t answer that, my friend,” the doctor admitted. “I am just a man of letters and numbers. I try to heal the mind as best as I can with what I know. What Sionna does is far beyond me—the woman is the closest thing to a god that I have ever known.”

  “She is,” Aazuria said quietly. “I’m sorry for losing my temper, Dr. Rosenberg. You have taken me, literally, far out of my comfort zone. But you’ve made me realize something important; I need to stop sidestepping important issues. I need to stop shunning my husband, and ostracizing my sister. My family is my home. I intend to keep rebuilding all the cities that were destroyed—and building new cities, establishing new prosperity and order. But I also want a safe and happy home, where everyone else feels safe and happy too. It’s my responsibility to make it so.”

  “I’ll help you in any way I can, Queen Aazuria,” the doctor said, giving her the traditional Adluvian salute. He released a sigh. “I’m very sorry if I was presumptuous—I fear that I made the wrong decision by digging this all up now. I think maybe I should head back to the plane and
leave you two with some privacy to talk things through.”

  The doctor moved into the elevator, but Trevain followed him. “Doctor, this was really rewarding for me. You are an amazing man, and I thank you for your time and attention.”

  “It’s what I’m paid to do,” the man said modestly.

  “No,” said Trevain seriously. “I can feel that you really care about us, and no money can buy that. I really appreciate this.”

  The doctor smiled graciously, bowing from the waist in respect. “It is my sincere honor, King Trevain.”

  “We would love to have you on permanently in the palace,” the king said kindly. “There’s always a broken mind in need of fixing.”

  “It would be such a privilege, sir,” Dr. Rosenberg said, reaching out to clasp Trevain’s shoulder gratefully and give him a little nod. “Nothing would make me happier.”

  When he left, taking the elevator up to the surface, Trevain turned to look at his wife. Aazuria had picked up a few of Varia’s first drawings, and was staring at them wistfully. He moved over to sit beside her, and rested a hand on her knee.

  “She was such a smart child,” Aazuria said softly, turning to her husband with tears in her eyes. “She was able to pretend to be someone else around Prince Zalcan—acting came so naturally to her, and she never questioned why. She just trusted me and did what I asked of her.”

  Trevain took a few of the drawings from his wife’s hands. He looked through them pensively, imagining his daughter as an infant. A smile came to his face as he found a colorful sketch of three people standing under a sunny sky. It was labeled Mommy, Daddy, and Me. “Poor kid really had no idea what the sky or the sun looked like, did she?” Trevain joked. He found himself wiping a tear away from his cheek. “Is this supposed to be me?”

  “Yes,” Aazuria said softly. “That was how she imagined you—and heaven and earth—before she had known any of the three. She was so innocent. I wish you could have seen her.”

  “I see her every day, thanks to you,” Trevain said, unable to keep his emotion out of his voice. “Thanks for bringing her home to me.”

  Aazuria saw a tear splash on the paper, and she was startled to see that Trevain was crying. Feeling a sudden yank on her heartstrings, she reached over to touch his hand.

  “I feel like I screwed up,” he told her. “I feel like this is my fault—like I did exactly what my grandfather did in abandoning my mother.”

  “But you didn’t,” Aazuria said forcefully. “You’re nothing like him.”

  “I’m starting to think that the greatest thing I could ever aspire to be is more like my grandfather,” Trevain admitted. He put the drawings aside and rubbed the heel of his palms across his eyes. “God, Aazuria. It’s so hard. To be here and know what you went through, while I was happy and enjoying myself… I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for what I did to you.”

  Aazuria felt tears prickling her own eyes as she reached out to grab his wrists. “You gave me a reason to live. You gave me hope; something to hold onto. You gave me Varia. You gave me everything. So don’t you dare think you were ever a negative influence in my life. Not for one moment.”

  “So then why do I feel this way?” he asked her. “Why do I feel like the villain of your story?”

  “Because I’ve been a bitch,” she answered honestly. She reached out and grabbed the collar of his fur coat, hauling him toward her. “Here, let me distract you.” She tried to return the kiss that he had given her earlier, with all the promise and passion she had deciphered from that tiny contact. He had eased her mind when she most needed it, and she yearned to do the same for him. However, she found that she was awkward and inept, as though she had forgotten this simple skill long ago. The memories of the room seemed to close in on her, reminding her of Prince Zalcan and his feminine, high-pitched laughter, grating in her ears like nails on a chalkboard.

  Aazuria pulled away with a gasp, sliding away in embarrassment and failure. She could not relax and show him the same compassion that he had shown her; she was too wounded. “I’m sorry,” she told him, wrapping her arms around herself. “Maybe you should just give up on me.”

  “I will never give up on you,” he told her, “and I’ll treasure each drop of affection you give me like priceless artifacts.”

  She smiled. “Relics of what we once had?”

  “No. Evidence of what we still have, and will always have, even if it’s buried under thousands of pounds of ice—like this glacier we’re under right now.” Trevain looked at the giant metal doors contemplatively. “For millions of years, this lake was sealed below thick sheets of ice. Yet people still found it, and tried to turn it into something twisted and cruel—they defiled its purity with science experiments then turned it into a jail cell. Instead, it became a nursery, and a playroom. A schoolyard, a gymnasium. This lake was destined for something good, in spite of everything and everyone that tried to keep it down—just like us. We’re destined for something good. And that’s what I’m going to take away from this trip today.”

  Aazuria sighed. She had forgotten Trevain’s special talent for using nature as a metaphor for human situations; and making her see them in a new, positive light. He seemed to be able to do that in the worst of moments. But she had her own metaphors as well. “Looking back, the worst moments of my entire existence were all just tests—just drills meant to strengthen and prepare me. At the time, when I was trapped here, it seemed like the end. Who knew it would get even harder?”

  “The hardest parts are over,” Trevain said resolutely.

  She gave him a skeptical look. “I’ve been reading about the fire safety laws for our surface-cities like the Diomede Islands. Fire is still a risk in our submerged areas, especially the dry caves, but not nearly as much. I’ve been thinking about fire drills—do you know why there no fire drills in Adlivun?”

  “No. Why is that?”

  “If an alarm goes off in a school or workplace, and children or employees hear it, and nothing bad happens, it’s teaching them the wrong thing. It’s not teaching them how to react if there’s a fire; it’s teaching them to ignore warning signs, because there really is no danger. That way, when something bad happens, they’re floored with the surprise that it’s even possible for something bad to happen. That false sense of security is the most dangerous thing possible, Trevain. We can’t allow ourselves to grow comfortable.”

  He looked at her in confusion.

  “I don’t believe in fire drills. I believe in fires.” She gestured at the cabin around them. “This place was my first real fire. I should have smelled the smoke, but I didn’t—and I ended up here. And I got burned, badly. That was my fault.”

  “Aazuria. You’re whole and healthy. If there are any burns or scars that linger in your heart, I will heal all of them. Just let me in, and I’ll take care of you. Grant me access inside those towering walls, and I’ll be your firefighter.”

  She burst out laughing at this mental imagery.

  “What?” he asked innocently. “Do you like that? Should I buy a firefighter costume and…”

  “Trevain!” she said sharply, but she could not keep a smile from her face.

  “I already know that I look damn good in bright yellow,” he said seriously. “Remember my old fishing outfit? I know you find waterproof rubber irresistible. Maybe you’re into working-class men? I figure I could just add a hard hat and try to seduce you…”

  She tried to repress a giggle. “Really! Stop making fun of me.”

  “I love it when you laugh,” he told her seriously, leaning forward to taste her lips again.

  His kiss was more demanding than before, and she felt suddenly breathless. It was as though her lungs no longer needed air or water; they needed to breathe him. She focused on giving her body what it desired by tilting her chin upward to allow him better access to her mouth. Ribbons of warmth began to weave through her insides, twirling and traveling directly to her toes. Her heart began to race, sending blood spiraling through
her veins until she felt more alive than she had in years. The cabin suddenly seemed much too small and much too hot.

  Just as she was thinking about the uncomfortable temperature, she realized that Trevain was removing her winter coat. She was startled by this, but so lightheaded that she was unable to protest. However, when she found his fingers on the buttons of her blouse, she pulled away from his mouth.

  “What are you doing?” she asked him anxiously. She glanced at the large metal doors which led into the lake. “Varia might be coming back at any moment!”

  “How big is the lake?” he asked.

  “Big,” she whispered.

  “I’m sure she has lots of things to show Glais out there,” Trevain said as he rained kisses down the side of Aazuria’s neck. “Don’t you think we have a few minutes?”

  “Trevain,” she said hesitantly. “This is unwise.”

  “Then do something unwise with me!” he demanded. “For once, Aazuria! For once, just stop being a saint; stop being the savior risen from the dead. Forget that you belong to the world, and remember that you belong to me. Let me possess you, just for a moment!”

  She felt something liquefy in her breast. A deep, desperate need to make him happy began to surface, and she wondered if she could be happy too. She was filled with a need to remember all the things she had forgotten. It seemed like it would be refreshing to forget the world for a few minutes. Without realizing what she was doing, her head nodded.

  He crushed his mouth against hers, shrugging out of his winter coat and tossing it aside. He deftly began to remove her clothing, which was a feat on its own considering how warmly they were dressed. Only when she felt the cool air against her naked skin did her heart begin to palpitate erratically out of panic instead of pleasure.