Chapter 34

The sun touched his face.The sun he saw so little of, for as long as he could remember, was there to greet him as his ghost crept back into his body one drop of blood at a time.

But it wasn't the sun he wanted—it was the moon. It was the moon, her shine, her glow—and once his eyes cracked open, even through the blurry haze, Alba got his wish.

His moon was right there next to him, waiting for him to wake. Then touching his face once he stirred, chilled and comforting, compelling Alba to lean into it. Wishing to disappear into its soothing gentleness, to strike the heat that burned on and beneath his skin away.

Eridanys.Alba smiled, blinking until he could see where they were. Overhead, he recognized the ceiling of the lighthouse lantern room, eyes sore and stinging terribly.

Only when he tried to speak did something crumble on his skin, realizing how almost every inch of him had been smeared with the harbor's healing clay. It made him chuckle, weak and breathy, though he still didn't fully relax. Not yet. Not until his hand reached out, touching chilled skin again, fingers trailing down and arm, finding a bent knee, then a stomach slathered with its own muddy bandage. It stoked Alba back to life slightly more, forcing himself to lift his head, then sit up. To properly look into Eridanys' face, where all he could do was sigh in relief. His piece of the moon, there, smiling at him.

"You're alright," he said with a wobbly smile. "Thank god."

"I promised I would come for you," Eridanys answered. Touching Alba's face, his hair; the streak of silver, the tiny braid still intact beneath his ear. "No matter which shore you called from. No matter how far, I said I would beseech the sea to rise high enough for me to reach you. And that?—"

"She would listen," Alba finished for him, emotion burning in the back of his throat. He closed his eyes, cupping his hand around the nape of Eridanys' neck and pressing their foreheads together. Listening to the sound of the sea on the other side of the weatherglass. The gulls calling to one another. Eridanys' calm breaths. Calm, safe, peaceful.

"What happened to it?" he finally asked, memories hazy, but clear enough to know exactly how the high tide rose to collect him. "What happened to the town?"

Eridanys nodded his head toward the window. "Take a look for yourself, sailor. See all that's left."

Alba gulped, suddenly apprehensive, but crawled slowly to the window. His breath caught as he looked, witnessing what remained of Moon Harbor and her clusters of buildings. At least, where the clusters of buildings once sat, flattened into a streak of burnt sand and debris and only a few skeletal remains poking through. The shore that was once the color of merrow blood had been pushed up the hill, warping the line of the beach, swallowing half of what had once been the land. Reclaimed by the waves, left destitute. Not a soul wandered her beaches, and what remained of the streets were hardly more than faint lines cutting divots through the nothingness.

"It's gone," he whispered. "It's really… gone."

"Just like we said," Eridanys reminded him. Alba turned, gazing at the man for a moment, before laughing sharply. He threw himself into the siren's arms, clinging to him as something nearly lost. Something he loved and could keep, unlike so many other times. Alba's merrow, his siren, his caller of the sea, his companion, who he would keep close until he took his last breath.

Alba would be able to keep Eridanys by his side, to start anew, to have a life, to have a home, to have someone to take care of like he always wished.

"I love you,"he whispered, pulling the man closer. "I love you, I love you. I want you, I want to be with you, anywhere else than here."

"I'll go wherever you are," Eridanys responded, breath tickling the hairs on the back of Alba's neck. "With you I'll always stay, Albatross. Prince of the sea."

Eridanys carriedAlba down the winding stairs, where a blanket of seawater flooded the lighthouse floor. The lighthouse floor and the entire island outside of it, enough that, at just the right angle, it felt as if they walked on the surface of the sea. Alba slid off Eridanys' back to feel it for himself, smiling and splashing his feet over the soaked beach grass and even laughing as minuscule fish skittered around where he stepped.

In the keeper's house, Alba didn't have much he cared to salvage, except his coat and the possessions tucked safely inside. Hoping it still hung on the hook where he'd left it, and hadn't been scrounged through by Josiah's men while they stayed. It was thankfully where he expected—though his heart sank as he burrowed a hand into the pocket to find his mother's hairpin missing.

Nearly crying out for Eridanys, not sure what else to do, the sound caught in Alba's throat when a seabird suddenly squawked at him from the kitchen table. The albatross clutched the pin in its beak like some kind of cruel irony, though Alba wouldn't hesitate to throttle his own namesake to get it back. He threw up his hands, lunging and tossing his jacket with the same finesse as unfurling a fishing net over the open sea. The bird anticipated the assault, spreading its wings and trilling at him before sweeping through the front door, ignoring Alba's threats, then pleas, as it went.

He chased it out as fast as his aching leg would let him, searching high and low as the bird took off like a shot into the sky. Eridanys witnessed none of the theft as it happened, distracted by something over the edge of the flooded rocks. Alba could only wave his hands, calling out for the bird to give it back, it was his, it was all he had left!—yelping and ducking when the bird suddenly swooped down, nearly taking his head off.

"Damn you!" he shrieked, grabbing a soggy handful of mud to throw, falling far too short.

Eridanys called out to ask what was wrong, and Alba turned to tell him—only for something to plunk in the water at his feet. He scrambled for it, scooping the pin into his hands and glaring at the bird as it swooped down over him again, before skimming the water to land a few yards away. A second albatross joined it, clacking their beaks together in affection like long lost lovers finally reunited. Alba just scowled at them, securely tucking the pin into his braid at the nape of his neck and going to see what had Eridanys so preoccupied.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, spotting it instantly. Flooding the harbor for as far as he could see, lazy pearl-white jellyfish swayed with the tide. Bumping unawares into one another, sometimes tangling tentacles or getting snagged on the rocks. When Eridanys scoffed and stepped forward to pinch one and throw it back out into open water, Alba had to fight the instinct to grab and stop him.

"Didn't it sting you?" he asked, grabbing the man's hand in concern. Eridanys just wrinkled his nose.

"It did. Not very grateful, are we!" he shouted, making Alba raise an eyebrow. Eridanys sighed, then smirked, running fingers back through his hair. "You know how humans believe lost sailors become seabirds to fly back home? Merrow believe the same—but jellyfish. Worthless, brainless jellyfish…"

"Then…!" Alba grinned, before laughing. "That means all your kin were washed out to sea after all."

"Suppose so."

"They're not going to keep us from leaving, are they?"

"I don't think so." Eridanys flashed Alba a mischievous smile. "I'm not above eating the death-spirits of my own kin. They should anticipate as much and stay far out of my way."

Alba laughed again. Eridanys spotted the pin in his hair, then, smiling and complimenting it, running Alba's messing braid over his fingers.

"That suits you," he said. "Glad you get to keep that reminder of her."

"Me, too," Alba smiled back, taking Eridanys' hand and squeezing it. He offered one last glance back to the seabird who'd stolen it at first, chuckling as it continued dancing with its partner between nuzzling and tapping beaks. Touching the pin in his hair again, the smile faded slightly as his heart skipped a beat. You know how humans believe sailors lost at sea become birds to fly back home?

Stray tears dripped from his eyes, leaving streaks in the healing mud on his face. Eridanys noticed before Alba did, brushing the back of a knuckle over his cheek to catch one.

"Oh—" Alba jumped, quickly wiping them away, though more only followed behind. He couldn't stop them. "I know, I know, the sea already has enough salt. I don't know why…"

Eridanys stopped him before he could smear the rest away. Regarding Alba for a long time, his smile never faded.

"Especially here, in this harbor—she has not had nearly enough salt from tears of joy," he said gently, eyes flickering up to where the birds circled one another. "Cry all you like, Alba. So she can have a taste of it for the first time in a long time."

Alba did—he cried. He cried, then smiled and laughed and threw his arms around Eridanys, knocking them both to the flooded earth where Alba held him, then kissed him, then laughed more as Eridanys turned him onto his back to kiss like he really meant it. Soaking Alba through with saltwater that, for the first time, embraced him back like he was as much a part of her as Eridanys was.

Alba cried and kissed his siren for as long as he liked. Never once feeling a single tug in his belly, nor the constant pull of somewhere to be, something to do, someone to wait for. All he wanted was right there with him.

Alba was in no hurry. He had all the freedom in the world.