Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Levi

I rock back on my heels, both anticipation and annoyance coursing through me. The harbormaster’s building stands sentinel behind me, its weathered shingles and faded gray paint familiar as an old friend.

I tilt my head back, squinting against the morning sun. The sky is a perfect, cloudless blue, promising a beautiful day on the water. A light breeze carries on the salt-tinged air, just enough to create a gentle chop on the waves without being too rough for a novice. It’s the type of day that usually fills me with contentment, but anticipation has me fidgeting. These perfect conditions are wasting away while I wait for my intriguing companion to arrive. I glance at my watch once more, fighting back a sigh.

I balked when Koko first approached me about being a tour guide for her new travel program. Me, a tour guide? Calling me reserved and standoffish would be an understatement. Isn’t being a people person practically written in the job description?

My other concern was tourists in a town full of magical beings. When I asked Koko about it, she explained that her powers protect the town’s secrets – anyone who isn’t a mystical creature or an official resident here can’t see the magic happening around them. I had snorted at that, thinking of some of our more eccentric denizens. Sure, tourists might not see Martha’s seal form when she’s checking her oyster beds or notice when a shifted werewolf is walking down the street, but some behaviors are hard to explain. Like Conall’s tendency to growl when angry or how the selkie children play tag by diving off the docks and emerging halfway across the harbor in mere minutes. Still, Koko assured me her magic would handle it – tourists would simply see what they expected to see, writing off any oddities as small-town quirkiness.

I still tried to protest that I wasn’t right for the job, but Koko, with her unwavering faith, insisted I’d be perfect. Her confidence was a relentless tide, gradually eroding my reservations until I found myself agreeing to give it a try.

Now, here I stand, feeling as out of place as a rowboat in a regatta. Despite everyone in Lublin Harbor being welcoming, I’ve felt like an outsider since the first day I arrived. After my experience with my people, I’ve never been able to let my guard down completely. Even though everyone has been kind, I’ve kept to myself, much like I did in the kraken kingdom. It’s easier that way, safer. My true form is intimidating and often makes others wary and uncomfortable. The locals have tried to include me in their gatherings, festivals, and daily life, but I always stick to the edges, more comfortable observing than participating. The irony isn’t lost on me that I’m as isolated here as I was in my old home.

The thing is, I’m far more at home with the quiet of the sea than I am with small talk. The prospect of entertaining a stranger for hours makes my stomach roll like a ship in a storm. And the mysterious woman I glimpsed yesterday? Her striking presence isn’t helping matters. If anything, her beauty is making it worse. I’m going to screw this up.

My fingers drum against the worn wood of the dock railing as scenarios spiral through my mind, each worse than the last. There’s no way this ends well. Koko will have to fire me, and I’ll be banished from Lublin Harbor.

I check my watch for what feels like the thousandth time. She’s late. The woman I’m supposed to be guiding – Rose, I think Koko said – should have been here ten minutes ago. Part of me hopes she won’t show up at all, sparing us both the awkwardness that’s sure to ensue. But another part, a part I’m trying hard to ignore, is eager to see her up close.

When I saw her yesterday, she was on the deck of Koko’s houseboat talking on her phone, laughing joyously. The sound had carried across the water, stopping me in my tracks. Even from a distance, I could see she was beautiful – short and curvy, with a smile that lit up her whole face. The sun had caught in her dark hair, revealing subtle auburn highlights. Just thinking about the vision she made makes my palms sweat.

A flash of movement catches my eye, and I spot her walking towards me, looking a bit lost. Her big brown eyes dart around, taking in the surroundings before landing on me. A smile breaks across her face, and she waves hesitantly. As she waves, the sleeve of her shirt slides down to reveal a glimpse of a couple of intricate tattoos.

“Are you Levi?” she calls out as she approaches. She’s wearing weathered cutoff jean shorts and a dark green t-shirt from the Albuquerque Rattlesnake Museum, decorated with a coiled snake poised to strike. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail that swings as she walks towards me. A waterproof bag is slung over one shoulder.

I clear my throat, trying to find my voice. “You’re late,” I say, then immediately want to kick myself. Why did I lead with that?

Her smile falters and I feel like the world’s biggest jerk. “I’m sorry,” she starts to explain, her voice tinged with embarrassment. “I couldn’t find the harbormaster’s office. I accidentally went to the maintenance building first and?—”

“It’s fine,” I cut her off, wincing internally at how gruff I sound. “We should get started.”

By Thalassor’s Might, what is wrong with me? I take a deep breath, forcing myself to soften my tone. “I’m sorry,” I say, meeting her eyes. “Let’s start over. I’m Levi, and yes, I’ll be your guide today.”

Relief floods her face, and I feel some of the tension dissipate. “I’m Rose Ashford,” she says, extending her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Levi.”

I shake her hand, trying not to focus on her soft skin against my calloused palm. “Before we begin, I need to ask about your swimming ability. It’s important for safety reasons.”

Rose nods, her expression turning serious. “I’m a decent swimmer. Not Olympic level or anything, but I can hold my own.”

“Good to know,” I say, leading her toward a nearby storage shed. “We’ll still need to get you fitted with a life vest. Safety first.”

As I help Rose into a life jacket, adjusting the straps to ensure a snug fit, I explain the plan for the day. “I thought we’d start with an easy kayaking tour along the coastline. It’ll give you a good overview of the area and its history. After that, we’ll stop for a picnic lunch that Koko prepared. How does that sound?”

Rose’s eyes light up with excitement. “That sounds perfect! I saw the kayak on the houseboat and am excited to get a chance to use it.”

Her enthusiasm is contagious, and some of my nervousness starts to fade. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

I lead Rose to the bottom of the boat ramp, where two kayaks are waiting. I help her into hers, steadying the boat as she settles in. “Have you kayaked before?” I ask, handing her a paddle.

She nods, gripping the paddle with confident hands. “A few times, but it’s been a while. I might be a bit rusty.”

“Don’t worry,” I assure her. “We’ll take it slow, and I’ll be beside you the whole time.”

I push off from the shore and guide us out of the marina. The rhythmic sound of our paddles cutting through the water is soothing, and I start to relax for the first time since I woke up this morning.

Rose trails her fingers through the water as we paddle. “This is warmer than I expected for Maine,” she says, surprise evident in her voice.

“The way the harbor’s situated creates a pocket of warmer water,” I explain, the lie coming easily. In truth, I know it’s Koko’s doing – she loves swimming in the ocean, and some time since founding Lublin Harbor, she’d gradually warmed the waters within her territory to a more comfortable temperature. Just one of the many ways she’d shaped this place to suit her needs.

We paddle in comfortable silence for a while, allowing Rose to get her bearings and find her rhythm. I steal glances at her when she’s not looking, admiring the determined set of her jaw and the way the sunlight plays off her hair.

As we round the first bend of the coastline, leaving the harbor behind, I clear my throat. “So, uh, what brings you to Lublin Harbor?” I wince internally at how awkward I sound, but Rose doesn’t seem to notice.

She smiles, her eyes scanning the shoreline as she speaks. “I’m an artist. I came here looking for inspiration and a change of scenery. Koko’s vacation rental package seemed perfect.”

An artist. That explains the way she’s been studying everything so intently. “What kind of art do you do?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“I’m a graphic artist, so I do a lot of commissioned work – whatever the client wants. But for fun, I mostly like watercolor paintings and sketches,” she replies. “I love capturing landscapes and seascapes. This place is like a dream come true for that.”

I nod, understanding completely. “It is pretty special here. Wait until you see what’s coming up around the next bend.”

As if on cue, we round the corner, and I hear Rose gasp. The coastline opens before us, revealing a stunning vista of rocky cliffs interspersed with small, hidden beaches. The water here is a deep navy blue, and a lighthouse stands sentinel in the distance on a jutting peninsula.

“Oh, wow,” Rose gasps, her paddle forgotten as she takes in the view. “It’s magnificent. Is that the Cape Vesna lighthouse?”

Surprise has me glancing over at Rose. “Yes, it is. Are you familiar with it?”

Rose turns her head, catching me mid-stare. Her eyes meet mine for a heartbeat before I hastily look away. She smiles softly, pushing up her sleeve to reveal a tattoo on her upper arm – the lighthouse rendered in perfect detail against a stormy sky. “One of my favorite artists painted that lighthouse,” she says, her voice tinged with awe. “I loved it so much I had it tattooed on my skin. Whenever I feel lost or down, I look at it, and somehow… it helps me find my way back to myself.” She gently traces the inked lines before gesturing toward the actual lighthouse. “The original painting was a view from the land with the ocean as a backdrop, and I always thought it was stunning. But seeing it here, from the water…” She shakes her head, clearly moved. “It’s even more breathtaking. The painting doesn’t hold a candle to this perspective.”

Her words stir something in me – a mix of pride and joy that bubbles up from my core. This is my adopted home. Over the last few years, these waters and shores have become a part of me, and I never expected that I would enjoy sharing their beauty with a stranger. “The Cape Vesna Lighthouse,” I explain, my voice warming as I point to the stalwart structure standing guard in the distance, “was built in the mid-1850s, when Maine’s maritime trade was booming. For over 170 years now, it’s been a silent sentinel, guiding ships safely into our harbor through storm and calm alike. And you’re right – there’s something special about seeing it from out here on the water. It’s like you’re seeing it the way the sailors do, the way it was meant to be seen.”

Rose listens intently as I share some of the local history and lore surrounding the lighthouse. To my surprise, I find myself enjoying the role of storyteller. Rose is an attentive audience, asking thoughtful questions and seeming genuinely interested in what I have to say.

As we continue our journey along the coast, I highlight other landmarks and share more about the area’s history. Rose soaks it all in, her artist’s eye clearly at work as she studies the rocky shoreline.

“Can we stop for a moment?” she asks suddenly, reaching for her waterproof bag. “I’d love to do a quick sketch if that’s okay.”

I nod, guiding us to a calm area where we can float without drifting too far. Rose pulls out a small sketchbook and pencil, carefully balancing them on her lap. I watch, fascinated, as her hand moves swiftly across the page, capturing the essence of the landscape before us with just a few deft strokes.

“That’s amazing,” I say, unable to keep the awe from my voice. “You’re talented.”

Rose blushes slightly at the compliment, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you. It’s just a rough sketch, but I’d love to return and get some photos of the area. I only brought my phone today, and now I wish I’d packed my good camera.”

“I could show you some other great spots for painting,” I offer, surprising myself. “If you’re interested, I mean.”

Her face lights up. “I’d love that, Levi. Thank you.”

As we continue our journey, I find myself relaxing more and more. Conversation flows easier now, punctuated by comfortable silences as we take in the scenery. I share more about the local flora and fauna, pointing out different species of seabirds and explaining the types of fish that inhabit these waters.

Rose, in turn, tells me more about her art and her life back home in the desert. I learn that she’s from a big city and that this is her first time seeing the Atlantic Ocean. Her excitement about everything – from the salty air to the cry of the seagulls – is infectious, making me see my familiar surroundings through fresh eyes.

Before I know it, we’re approaching the small, secluded beach where I had planned to have our picnic lunch. As we near the shore, I guide Rose on safely bringing her kayak in.

“Okay, we’re going to ride this small wave in,” I instruct. “When I say ‘now,’ start paddling hard towards the shore. Ready?”

Rose nods, excitement and nervousness washing over her face. I watch the waves, waiting for the right moment. “Now!” I call out.

We both paddle hard, letting the wave carry us towards the beach. As we near the shore, I hop out of my kayak into the shallow water, quickly moving to steady Rose’s kayak as it glides onto the sand.

“We did it!” Rose exclaims, laughing as I help her out of the kayak. Her hand is warm, and I am reluctant to let go.

“You’re a natural,” I say, smiling despite myself. “Ready for some lunch?”

We pull the kayaks onto the beach, securing them well above the tide line. I retrieve the picnic basket from my kayak, and we find a comfortable spot on the sand to set up our meal.