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“I’m Heath.” Heath rose to his feet, extending a hand toward Griffin. “I assume you’re one of the guards Merletta has told me about.”

“Yes, this is Griffin,” said Merletta quickly. “He’s one of the survivors from August’s patrol.”

Griffin didn’t take Heath’s hand, instead narrowing his eyes at the other man. “You look familiar,” he informed Heath. He glanced at Merletta. “I didn’t realize you were planning to bring any of your friends here as well. From the Center, is he?”

Merletta looked between them, realizing Griffin’s mistake. “Oh, no, he’s not from the triple kingdoms,” she explained. “He’s a human. He’s the human—the one you know about.”

“I probably seem familiar from the time you speared me,” Heath interjected. He’d dropped his rejected hand, and wasn’t speaking in his normal voice. “Or one of your patrol, anyway. I don’t remember the details. I was a little distracted bleeding out.”

“It was Larson,” said Griffin, no hint of apology in his voice. “He’s dead now. Along with Arlene.”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, and then Heath’s stiffness fell away like a garment.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Neither of them deserved that.”

“No, they didn’t,” said Griffin coldly. “And none of us deserve the danger you put us in by showing up here like it’s nothing, least of all Merletta.”

“Griffin!” Merletta protested, astonished. “That’s so far out of line, it’s absurd!”

“Sounds like I need to get in line,” Heath muttered.

“What?” Merletta turned to him, confused, but he just sent her a tight smile.

“Never mind. It’s probably time for me to go, anyway. I’ll be back when I can.”

“I wish we had more time,” Merletta told him, lowering her voice and angling her body away from Griffin in a gesture of protest. “I just talked and talked, and never even asked you what’s happening in your world. I assume your brother survived whatever the threat was, since you haven’t mentioned his untimely death.”

There wasn’t much joy in Heath’s smile. “Yes, he’s fine. Just turning my hair gray.”

Merletta chuckled, reaching up to playfully tug on a wayward tuft. “Not that I can see.”

Griffin shifted pointedly, and she dropped her hand, irritated.

“We’ll talk again soon,” Heath promised. “Just stay safe in the meantime, all right?”

Merletta nodded, a lump in her throat at the abrupt change from near declaration to goodbye.

Heath stepped closer, pulling her into a quick embrace and dropping his voice to a whisper. “And don’t doubt that you’re worth more to me than every titled, over-important family in your world or mine, even if you don’t know your parents’ names.”

Merletta couldn’t help smiling up at him, her heart giving one more erratic jump. “Actually,” she told him, “I might know their names after all. I guess I didn’t tell you that bit about the test.”

Heath stepped back, raising his eyebrows in amazement. But Griffin was still hovering tactlessly, and Merletta shook her head.

“Later.”

Heath nodded, turning his eyes to the jungle. “I’d better call Reka.”

“You brought another human with you?” Griffin interjected, his frown even more pronounced. “Why not just announce the location of this island in your city’s central square?”

Heath raised an eyebrow at the irate merman, looking for once like the son of a duke that he was. “Actually, Reka isn’t a—”

“Isn’t a very sociable individual,” Merletta cut across his words hurriedly. “So he’s not going to bother us.” She caught Heath’s eye and shook her head infinitesimally.

Heath frowned slightly, but subsided without commenting on her decision not to tell the guards about the involvement of a dragon.

“Until next time, then,” he said instead.

And with nothing more than a lingering look, he plunged into the jungle and out of sight.


Tags: Deborah Grace White The Vazula Chronicles Fantasy