“The closer you get to your eighteenth birthday, the stronger you will become. The rest of your abilities will begin to show themselves and sharpen. However, we need to speed up that process.
Anything connected to your ancestry will help pull out your abilities and strengths. So coconut milk from the Fortunate Isle will be a part of your diet for the next month. One shot glass worth each day,” he instructed.
I’d never had pure coconut milk before, but I liked coconut, so it couldn’t be too different, right? I turned up the shot glass. It tingled my throat on the way down and steadied my nerves even more. It didn’t have much taste, except for a hint of coconut.
“Not too bad,” I smiled.
He took my glass and placed the bottle, shot glass and black box back inside the canvas bag.
He held the Tupperware container with his palm like a waiter, swept it in front of me dramatically and pulled the lid off; bowing his head formally. Hoping for dessert, I was disappointed at what I was presented with.
He just smirked and in his worst British accent announced, “Next on the menu for my lady: an exquisite course of fresh Atlantic seaweed from the Fortunate Isle.”
“I’m allergic,” I tried.
“And I’m British,” he snickered sarcastically; making me laugh.
“You couldn’t have brought some oranges or mangos? Maybe a kiwi or two?” I asked cynically.
“You have the strongest connection to seaweed…as did Thetis. So just like the coconut milk, you’ll need to eat some each day.” I inspected the slimy mass of green in the container.
“Why do I feel like I’m on ‘Fear Factor’?”
“The tarantulas and cow intestines are next,” he warned; his tone overly foreboding. I would have to keep my gag reflex in check around him. I wouldn’t last a minute on that show. I shoved his shoulder lightly and tentatively selected a short string of seaweed to eat. It was slimy to the touch and I had no idea what it would taste like. I tried to convince myself that it was no different than lettuce.
It didn’t work.
“Okay, here goes…” I closed my eyes and dangled it above my mouth dramatically; head back, eyes closed, and dropped it. The taste exploded in my mouth, but to my surprise I didn’t immediately spit it all over Finn. It was similar to collard greens, just a lot more salty. And uncooked. And cold. But besides that, it wasn’t terrible. I opened my eyes to catch Finn in the middle of a gigantic yawn.
“Leave some oxygen for the rest of us,” I teased him. He just laughed and spread out another blanket. Was he making a makeshift bed for us? When he pulled two pillows I recognized from the couch out of the canvas bag, I glanced up at him in surprise.
“We’re going to sleep out here?” I asked, trying not to appear too eager. Sleeping on the beach in the arms of the hottest guy on earth was exactly what I wanted to do.
“Of course.”
I quickly abandoned my towel cocoon and traded it for a pillow and blanket next to him. My emotions immediately went into overdrive as I remembered what we were wearing…or more accurately…not wearing. His arms pulled me to him and I tucked my head in the crook of his neck, breathing him in. My body recognized the safety of his arms and it instantly relaxed into them. I felt a new kind of vulnerability wash over me. But it wasn’t frightening and I didn’t try to fight it. It felt more like a freedom; a letting go. Our exhaustion stifled the fire that always erupted when our bodies were this close, leaving us with a more raw form of intimacy; made up of pure acceptance and unabated love. It was amazing. And just as powerful.
“Sweet dreams,” he murmured as we both drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 14
I stood before a rustic, weathered wooden door. I rose up onto my toes to peer through the small square window secured with five thin, but strong metal bars. I grasped the wrought iron knob and turned. It gave way under my grip and the door swung open with a low groan. My bare feet scuffled along the cold, cement floor as I cautiously stepped through the doorway. Something felt very
‘off ’. I felt…separated from myself. The perceived distance was substantial and unsettling. The lightness that I sensed told me I was having a reverie, but I didn’t remember leaving my body. Where was I? The indistinctive room where I currently stood refused to unlock any clues surrounding my whereabouts. A small cot with a single threadbare sheet occupied the far corner. One lonely square window gave passage to the afternoon sun streaking across the floor. A modest chest of drawers leaned against one wall; a collection of seashells masquerading the top. I started to advance on the window to see if the view would stir any memories, but my feet were suddenly frozen to the floor as my eyes traveled upward. The entire unassuming wall to my left was scarred with a countless number of lines. Each of them measured at least four inches long, all running vertically. They appeared to have been scratched into the stone wall, leaving them jagged and archaic. As I scanned row after row of lines, I realized there must be thousands of them. My feet thawed enough for me to step tentatively; approaching the wall with bewilderment. I knelt down and ran a finger over what I assumed to be the freshest line. Below it on the floor lay stone shavings; etched out to make way for the line. It was as if someone was keeping count. A subtle inner pull abruptly diverted my attention to the window. I straightened, scuffled to the window and steeled myself as I peered out. When my eyes found only an expansive blanket of deep blue, an unexpected bout of vertigo took my equilibrium captive and I leaned up against the window pane to keep my balance. The cool glass on my forehead eased the queasiness, and I tried looking down instead of out. The soaring elevation of the room was dizzying.
The white beach far below was in the shape of a crescent moon, caressed by the rolling waves. The cobalt blue hue of the water tickled my subconscious.
Small dark forms were milling about on the sand or in the surf; as if they had been let out for recess and were enjoying their limited time outside. When I spotted one figure several meters from the others, my memory flashed and I knew this was a place I’d been before. I had stood on the sands of that beach; the beach where I had seen the old man the first time. And he had seen me. I peered closely below at the figure with the gray hair blowing in the wind. Without warning, his head snapped up and his gray eyes met mine. Even from this far away, I could see the shock on his face. Whatever he had been holding was dropped and forgotten on the soft sand at his feet. When I blinked, I was knocked off balance by an intense moving sensation. And then all was still.
When my eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness, I noticed I was sitting against something rough with my knees pulled to my chest as if I were hiding from something. As I took a breath, the frigid air sliced into my lungs and pierced my throat as it rushed back out through my nose. I shifted my rigid body to the right and heard the crunching sound of dead leaves. The dank, mildew stench condensed the air around me and something scampered across my big toe. I let out a surprised yelp; pulling my feet closer to my body. I heard a noise from what must have been outside of whatever I was being housed in, and froze in terror. A bright light penetrated the blackness, shining directly into my eyes. I squeezed them shut and lifted a defensive hand.