her.
A couple of hours later, Sidon’s Boston Whaler motored out of the little cave under his house and into North Sirena Bay. Isa peered down at the deep, green-black waters. She’d been serious about leaving to draw off the hunters, but outside the safety of the dragon’s keep, the idea seemed much more frightening. Usually the type of weirdoes who chased her just wanted to take her picture in mere form or something equally inane. No one had ever gone so far to attempt to catch her. Clinging to Sidon for a few days, or until she was sure she wouldn’t be hunted again, seemed like a good idea.
She watched him expertly work the rudder extension, his hair whipping like seaweed around his high cheekbones and his tank top fluttering around steel bands of muscle. He was so strong now, so much bigger and more self-assured than she remembered.
The dinghy slowed as it approached Sirena’s tiny stilt-structure town. A smattering of faded pastel shops clustered at the middle of the bay. Vines of frayed rope hung from every railing, and at the edges of the channel, fry and adult mere bobbed up, waving and shouting to friends.
“Jacob,” Sidon yelled out to a handsome youth. “Get the hell out of the boat path! You’re going to get run over! Go to the walk-out area.”
“But I don’t have any pants!”
“Then you can either go home or deal with your junk hanging out. But get hell out of the way before I tell your mother.”
With that, the silver-haired fry dove below the surface. Isa noticed that the gaggle of girls with him dove as well.
“You’re one to talk, Si. You used to swim near the tie-up all the time.”
“Hmpf.”
Isa giggled at the oddly mature version of the boy she’d once known. Sidon stood at the stern, guiding the skiff to a dock. He wrapped the line to a cleat and braced one leg against the wood while holding out a strong hand.
“Come on, princess.”
“I know how to jump on a dock, Si,” she chided, though her lip curled at his chivalry. The pain from her injury smarted as she braced her foot to lever up her body. She was happier than she wanted to admit for his help.
The rotted planks connected to a little general store and gas pump. Paint chipped off the weathered wood, and dust covered the wares. The old shop-keeper stole glances in Isa’s directions as Sidon bought gasoline for the engine and a few bottles of Gatorade. She kept her head down, knowing full well the man recognized her, and as the screen door snapped shut behind them, she heard a shout, “I’ll let your mom know you’re back, Ismaelda!” Rolling her eyes and wishing he wouldn’t, she followed the dragon out into town.
“Let’s head by Melly’s.” Sidon took her hand and helped her over the network of plywood boards and old docks that connected the shops on the bay side. His grip was firm and warm. His thumb stroked hers absentmindedly as they walked.
The restaurant comprised a handful of plastic tables and chairs sitting on a floating platform. The kitchen was land-side in a small house, and as Sidon and Isa scraped into their table, a very-flustered Melly emerged.
“Sidon, honey. How goes it? You want the usual?” Melly stopped short at their table and stared, open mouthed. “Ismaelda, baby, you’ve come home!”
The mere grabbed Isa’s shoulders and dragged the girl against her ample bosom. “Where have you been, girl? I bet you got some stories! Out in Landworld all that time? Oh, the things you must have seen! I want to hear all about it.”
Isa shrugged as she tried to smile. “There’s not much to tell.”
“Doo-hocky. We gotta have a long talk, you and me.” At her words, Melly sent a meaningful look Sidon’s way.
He shifted in his seat, reminding Isa for a moment of the kid he’d been. “We’re just having coffee today.”
“Yeah, Si, of course.” Melly relented, waddling back to the kitchen.
A busboy brought them some coffee and sweet rolls. Isa sipped the strong brew and
Alexandra Ivy, Laura Wright