17. Homecoming

17. Homecoming

Ramorran should have felt his worries lifting as he neared home. Instead, his stomach churned with anxiety. He'd been unsure of his welcome when he expected to return alone – people who broke the rules and tested the king's patience could always expect to have to earn forgiveness. Perhaps the best he could hope for was that all attention would – rightly – be on Zelzie and what she needed, leaving Ramorran to slide into his old place without being noticed.

The thought made him twitchy and discontented. He didn't want to be allowed back under sufferance, or because he made himself so small he couldn't be seen. He wanted to be a part of his family, a welcomed son and brother.

Instead, he was returning with a sister wounded thanks to him and more than just his own sins to atone for. He didn't suppose his family would make that easy. Enough humble pie to choke a whale, he remembered. He should probably make that enough to choke two whales now.

It had been tempting to throw it all away and agree to go with Hakan. But that would be as stupid as staying away from home had been. He'd trusted a pirate before, and look where that had got him. He didn't belong in Hakan's world any more than he had in Sixblades'. Never quite fitting in, always wanting something other than what he had. Bitterness twisted in his chest. Wasn't that the story of his life?

He jumped when a hand touched his shoulder. He'd been so lost in thought he hadn't noticed Zelzie waking. He took her hand, squeezing gently. She looked exhausted, but less ... frantic ... than she had when he'd rescued her. "How do you feel?"

She lifted a shoulder, her free hand fluttering in an uncertain gesture.

"We'll be home soon," he promised. They were close already, the scenery achingly familiar.

Zelzie nodded. She squeezed his hand and he turned, half-listening to her broken voice, half-reading her lips. "Thank you. For saving me."

He shook his head. He didn't deserve her thanks. "I'm sorry Sixblades got hold of you. I should've warned you not to come." Guilt churned through him. If he'd gone home as soon as he got free, might she still be safe and whole? If he'd had any idea his sister was in danger he'd have let Sixblades keep his skin. That sacrifice was nothing compared to what Zelzie had ended up sacrificing for him.

His sister lifted a helpless shoulder again. She didn't speak but he was pretty sure he knew what she meant: done was done, no point wasting time on regrets.

He tapped his chest as he said, "Love you."

Zelzie set her hand over her heart and looked him in the eye as she replied, lips moving silently, Love you, too.

Ramorran held that certainty tight to his chest for the whole of their journey and as he navigated the rocks to reach the entrance to their hidden home. He had a feeling he'd need Zelzie's steady affection in the hours to come.

"I can swim," Zelzie whispered as he helped her out of Free Breezes.

Ramorran shook his head. "Let me carry you as long as I can. Save your strength."

He tied up the chebec just inside the cove with a mental note to come back and deal with it as soon as Zelzie was safe. Then he straightened and turned for home, trepidation tying his stomach in knots. He belonged here, with the people who'd known him from an infant. He was throwing his lot in with his family, for good or ill. For ever. He'd make it work out.

Carrying Zelzie, he walked through the outer cove along the rocks that fringed the water, waves splashing beside them. He was sure-footed from memory, despite his long absence. Zelzie was heavy in his arms, but his shoulders felt lighter. However he felt about the place, it was home. The water lapped hypnotically against the rock while reflected sunlight danced up the walls. Both swept him straight back to childhood.

When they reached the threshold into the inner cavern, the entrance hidden beneath the waterline, he stepped into the water down rocks worn smooth by generations of his ancestors. "You'll have to swim now," he told Zelzie apologetically. It was impossible to reach the tribe's stronghold on foot, by design. They wanted nothing to do with humans. Ramorran was the only one who'd broken that rule.

Zelzie nodded and slipped into the water with relief. They could have changed into their selkie forms, but Ramorran wanted to be able to speak as soon as he arrived. Zelzie didn't bother to change, either. Ramorran met her eye, waited for her small nod and they both took deep breaths before diving towards the crack deep in the rocks that would take them to the tribe's cavern.

Ramorran surfaced with a gasp, looking around for Zelzie. As he slicked his hair back off his face and kicked to reach his sister, he saw their arrival had been noticed.

The edge of the cavern was lined with people, several wading into the water to greet them, cries of relief bouncing off the stone. Ramorran gathered Zelzie in his arms once more and pushed towards the beach at the far side of the cavern and their welcoming party. Water dragged at his thighs as though holding him back. This might be home, but he fought the sudden certainty that he shouldn't have come.

But Zelzie needed him now.

"Ramorran! Zelzie! Praise the fates you've returned!"

Ramorran winced as he detected Vonda's voice, his older sister's cries bouncing off the walls. The relief in her tone wouldn't last long, not once she got a proper look at their sister.

"We need a healer." He called out when Vonda was still steps away, tempering her expectations.

"A healer?" As she hurried into the water, her expression changed from joy to concern. "You're injured?"

"Zelzie is."

Zelzie turned, lifting her chin. Ramorran heard the gasp when Vonda saw the damage. "What happened?" she breathed, a hand reaching to slide around Zelzie's shoulders. The younger girl hunched, turning her face into her sister's shoulder. Vonda made consoling noises, then turned to Ramorran, who was watching more figures assembling behind Vonda. He swallowed down the lump in his throat. He feared his warm welcome was about to turn cold.

"What happened?" Vonda snapped, her tone sharp as she faced Ramorran.

"She was taken prisoner. Sixblades damaged her voice so she couldn't escape."

Vonda's nostrils flared. She glared at him over Zelzie's head. "And what were you doing while this happened? Cavorting with your lover?"

Heat flared, anger and shame in equal parts. "I knew nothing about it until I discovered her imprisoned on Sixblades' estate."

Vonda opened her mouth, a scowl drawing her brows together.

"Look, you can berate me later. Our sister needs help. Let's deal with that first, shall we?"

"Let's get you home," Vonda said, her tone low and consoling as she turned and put a sheltering arm around Zelzie. Zelzie stumbled as she stepped towards the beach and the crowd gathered to meet them.

Ramorran made an impatient noise. "I'll carry you." He swept Zelzie back into his arms and waded through the shallow waves towards the beach and their family home. Vonda gave a tight nod that swept him right back to childhood: his older sister acknowledging that – for once – he'd done the right thing. Ramorran's jaw tensed. Approval had been rare enough before he left. He was very sure none would be granted to him once the elders understood his role in Zelzie's injury.

Men and women clucked around Zelzie like worried mother hens as they neared his old home. Similar to how he'd imagined his return, barely anyone noticed Ramorran as anything other than a porter to carry his sister. He glanced aside to the cave where he'd spent most of his life. For a single, tempting moment he felt as though he might duck back through the entrance and the last year of his life would simply fall away.

But that was impossible, for both him and Zelzie. He set her gently on her feet, immediately edged aside by siblings and cousins clamouring to greet her. A wave of shocked consternation travelled through the crowd as news of Zelzie's injuries spread.

Ramorran was slow to notice when the susurration of noise became silence. The back of his neck prickled and he turned. His father, King Aron, was striding towards them, the crowd parting to let him through. He reached Zelzie and stopped, extending a hand to lift his daughter's chin gently. Everyone else had given a cry of distress when they'd seen the damage. Aron's nostrils flared like his eldest daughter's but he gave no other sign of emotion.

"Come, the healers will look at your wounds." Aron's gaze travelled past Zelzie to Ramorran. He tensed against the desire to step aside and hide in the crowd. He wasn't a child, not any more. "You're well?" his father asked.

"I'm whole." He didn't think he'd ever be well again, not when Zelzie had been brutalised because of him. But he knew his father well enough to know he'd consider that reply to be self-indulgence.

"You'd better come, too."

Ramorran trailed after them, unsure whether he was pleased or alarmed when the seaweed curtain fell behind them to leave only the four of them, plus the healer. He'd be pleased if his father yelled at him with only family as witness, he told himself.

Zelzie was escorted to a stool and the healer knelt beside her, examining the inside and outside of her throat.

"What happened?" Aron demanded, holding up a hand when Vonda made to answer. "Ramorran, you tell me."

He took a deep breath, thoughts whirling. He tried to think how to word everything so he wouldn't be blamed for the whole. He chided himself for cowardice – this was his fault. The least he could do for his beloved sister was to bear the blame.

"I was kept prisoner by a pirate named Sixblades. I managed to escape, but I had to leave my skin behind. When I returned I found Zelzie had come in search of me and Sixblades had taken her prisoner. He damaged her throat so she couldn't escape."

"So she couldn't sing," his father clarified. "And how would a human pirate know that's what makes us dangerous?"

"Because it's how I escaped." Ramorran's voice seemed to be coming from a long way away. Nothing felt real.

"You gave away our secrets—"

"Not intentionally!"

Aron ignored him. "And Zelzie came to harm as a result."

"I'm bitterly sorry for it," he said, even knowing it would make little difference to his father. Matters were night or day to the king, while weakness was a character flaw.

"We're all bitterly sorry for what's happened." He cast a glance at his youngest daughter, the lines of his face falling into pain for a brief moment.

When he turned back to Ramorran he was once more steel. "She followed you, and your silly stories about the human world. You've corrupted our youth, and I hold you responsible."

Emotion surged through Ramorran. Corrupted? His father was always happy to be dramatic if he thought it would benefit him. But for this, he was responsible. "I'm sorry. I had no idea she'd come after me."

Aron held up a commanding hand. "Save your excuses. I'll assemble the council. They'll pass judgement on your behaviour."

Ramorran went cold.

Zelzie tried to protest, arms waving, lips moving although the feeble sound was ignored by their father and drowned out by the thud of Ramorran's blood in his ears. Tears rolled down her face. Ramorran's heart turned over.

Poor Zelzie, who craved harmony above all things. She'd been so desperate to bring their family back together she'd left safety to find him – and fallen prey to harm as a consequence. Ramorran would never, ever have wished that on her. And now it looked like the united family Zelzie had gone in search of would be shattered, perhaps irreparably this time.