~ Sylas ~

I lie at the bottom of the sea, beneath miles of water, heavy and dark. There is peace in the stillness here, and in the cold silence, I am at rest.

I could drift deeper still, into an eternal sleep, relinquishing my will to ever wake again. With each breath, it is easier not to draw the next, and the quiet depths reach with gentle hands to pull me down.

Other hands arrest my descent: one over my heart, and one that strokes my hair. I open my eyes and see a man leaning over me. He has red eyes, long black hair, and a beautiful face. He looks like me, but older and more masculine, and pain shadows his smile.

"Don't go with the tide just yet, little one," he says in a low, smooth voice. "Stay awhile."

"Who are you?" I ask, though I don't feel my lips move.

"Don't you know?"

I recognize him from description, and from our similarities. "Amarias."

He nods.

"Are you... real?"

His fingers brush my hair. "My legacy is strong in you. Stronger than any who have come before. We are not separate things. Think of me as a guardian spirit, if you like; or as a figment of a dream. It matters not."

"Where are we?"

"A place deep within you; the borderlands of consciousness; the edge of death. Take your pick."

Vaguely, I wondered if dream-figments were always so enigmatic.

"What do you want?"

He smiles. "Now that I have fully awakened, I want to help you. I will guard and guide you; I will be an anchor, and a calm voice in the storms that plague your soul. I will help you control and understand our nature."

"Ou–Our nature?"

He nods. "We are one, Sylas, however you wish to think of me – blood legacy, or ancestral spirit. It matters not. Trust your instincts; trust yourself. And now," he smiles again, "there are others who will miss you if you stay much longer here."

He lays a hand over my eyes, and I drift, up through layers of darkness towards the light.

✧ ✧ ✧

When I open my eyes again, it is to true waking. A more familiar face looks down at me, pinched with concern.

"Sylas?"

Jaxon's voice carries a host of questions in a single word.

"Yeah?" My voice is a dry, whispery thing.

"Are you... okay?"

As I stare up at him, memory seeps back like water filling a dry sponge, until I remember everything. I consider his question. Nothing hurts; but as for being 'okay'...

"I don't know. I think so."

Jaxon's expression eases slightly, and he releases a breath he'd been holding.

"Thank the gods," he sighs.

He looks like he wants to kiss me, but I see we're not alone. My sister appears at my other side, dropping to her knees and leaning over me. She's covered in dirt and dust, and her dress is torn.

"Oh my gods, Sy," she sobs, touching the side of my face. "Stop scaring me, you idiot."

"Lyss..."

I sit up and reach for her, and she collapses in my arms, crying helplessly. From my upright position, I see we're on a boat – not Edwards's, but a smaller one with an enclosed cabin on the top deck. Marcus and Aurelio sit opposite, and I frown at them.

Jaxon rests a hand on my back. "Let them explain."

I look at my sister as she releases me and wipes her eyes, smearing a mix of dirt and makeup across her face.

"I guess we all have some explaining to do," I say.

✧ ✧ ✧

As we fill each other in on our various misadventures, misunderstandings, and misguided attempts to do what we each thought was best and right, I lean against Jaxon's side, taking comfort in his warmth and solid strength.

I haven't completely forgiven him – a lot of this might have been avoided if he'd talked to me and trusted me sooner – but I know he's not the only one at fault. I carry my share of the blame.

On the other hand, while I might have saved myself from Edwards, Jaxon had saved me from myself.

I shiver, recalling the monstrous hunger that had filled me, and the sense of something waking up and stretching dark wings. The strange dream comes back to me, too, and I shiver again. Did something of my ancestor really live in me? And was it really his – or my – inner nature that had awoken?

A thought strikes me, and I sit up straight.

"My Sign!" I exclaim, interrupting Marcus as he recounts the many difficulties of being tongue-tied.

"Here." Aurelio reaches over and lifts my pack from beside his seat, handing it across to me. "It was still on Edwards's boat."

I rifle through it, and heave a sigh of relief as I find the silver pen where I'd left it, tucked in an inner sleeve.

I sag back in my seat, and Jaxon pulls me a little closer to his side. I rest my head against his shoulder, passively absorbing the heat of his body and letting it soothe me as I listen to the various perspectives on the events that brought us to where we are: chugging along through a calm sea as stars appear above, towing a dead man's boat in our wake.

Whoever was right, whoever's done wrong, I'm too tired to be angry with anyone at the moment, and as Lyssa finishes describing how she wove a protective spell around my protection spell, like a cushioning bubble with all of us inside it (except for Edwards), I shut my eyes and let silence fill my mind.

"Sylas?" Jaxon shakes me gently. "You sure you're alright?"

I blink, unsure how much time has passed. Taking a breath, I search my heart, and answer honestly. "No. Not really, Jaxon. Not yet, anyway."

He frowns. He doesn't like it, but he understands.

"Yeah. Me, too," he says, and kisses the side of my head.

Some time later, Marcus kills the engine, letting us drift until our forward momentum stops. Then, he and Aurelio go out on deck, and untie the ropes binding us to Edwards's yacht.

I watch from the cabin window as he restarts the engine, and the other vessel is left behind, free to drift where the currents take her.

"May he rest in pieces," Marcus quips, as he and Aurelio rejoin us, "and good riddance."

No one disagrees, but I do wonder if I'd preferred Marcus to have remained tongue-tied, after all.

✧ ✧ ✧

We arrive at the Harbor City municipal marina well after midnight. Marcus docks his boat at the end of a pier, leaping ashore and securing it with expert knots. Then he lifts Lyssa down by the waist, like a prince with his fairy-tale princess.

I scowl as they smile into each others eyes, and climb down, followed by Jaxon and Aurelio.

Jaxon loops an arm around my waist, lending me support as we follow the other pair towards shore. "I know you don't like it," he says quietly. "I don't either. But it seems like they really are in love. And if anyone has the upper hand, it's your sister. I don't think you need to worry about her."

He's right: I don't like it. But I can't deny the evidence before my eyes. I already knew Lyssa wasn't Spelled, and that she chose Marcus of her own free will. I hadn't considered that he might be the one under her Spell – figuratively speaking.

"Why don't you all come to Spellwright House tonight," Marcus offers, once we're all on dry land again. "It's a lot closer than Covey Bend."

Jaxon glances at me. His family home is not my favorite place. It's not his, either, but he looks exhausted, and I'm certainly not up to an hour's drive in the dark. I nod, and he accepts Marcus's invitation with barely contained relief.

Aurelio drives us all, dropping us off before the grand front doors.

"Won't you stay, too, Rel?" Marcus asks, holding the door for Lyssa as she gets out. "It's late."

Aurelio shakes his head. "No. My place isn't far, and I've quite a lot of work to do. With Edwards out of the way, I should have your name cleared by Monday at the latest, Jaxon. Yours as well." He nods at me. "As for myself, the clouds darkening my skies will dissipate shortly, I imagine."

"No rest for the wicked, eh?" Marcus laughs.

I find I rather hate him, and not just because he's been banging my little sister.

"You would know," Aurelio replies mildly, and Marcus shuts up.

After promising to inform Nic and Yumi of our 'success,' and to be in touch soon, Aurelio drives away.

"You want your old room?" Marcus asks, addressing Jaxon as he leads the way inside.

"No. One of the spares will do."

"Take your pick. They're all kept up."

Jaxon shoots him a look. "Mother would be proud, I'm sure."

Marcus flushes and opens his mouth, but Lyssa squeezes his hand, and he shuts it again. He shrugs, then says, "I doubt it. The place is yours anyway, you know."

"What?" Jaxon looks up sharply at that.

"Of course you weren't here for the reading of her will; but yes – she left the house to you."

"Why? She knew I hated it."

"That's probably why," Marcus says. "Her sense of humor always was a little... twisted. Anyway, now that your name is clear – or will be – you've got catching up to do. Good night."

He leads Lyssa off upstairs, and I frown at his back, watching him go with mixed feelings in my heart.

Jaxon takes me to a large corner room, decorated in lavender and green. As promised, it's clean and guest-ready, and Jaxon leaves me to settle in while he goes down the hall to his old room to fetch some spare clothes. They'll be much too large for me, but good enough for sleeping in.

He returns to find I haven't moved, and sets the clothes aside. He removes his tactical belt, and I catch a glimpse of a white handled knife protruding from a sheath.

"Is that it?" I ask. "The Devil's Song?" He'd described it to me, but I haven't seen it yet.

"Yeah."

I move closer for a better look, but he quickly stuffs the belt in a drawer.

"Come on," he says, turning to me and taking my hand. "Let's get clean."

We shower in silence, and he washes my body with gentle attention. His rough hands feel good on my skin, and I return the gesture with equal care. Neither of us speaks again until we're dry and dressed, and lying together in the large, soft bed.

"We're alright now," he says quietly, brushing my still-damp hair away from my face. "Right?"

"We will be," I whisper, moving a little closer and kissing him lightly on the lips.

"Yeah," he agrees, and smiles. "We will."