to the road, metal pipes had been installed above the pool to facilitate the flow of water and made a nice shower for bathing. A few women in wet sarongs held tin buckets.
As the blowing wind shifted to a full-on howl, everyone hurried out of the falls.
I played with the zipper of my jacket. “In Vane’s vision, we were on one of the ledges above the pool. That’s where you get knocked off and plunge to your death. Have you noticed your visions have a nasty habit of coming true?”
“Had.” Matt grabbed my hand to stop my fidgeting. “I don’t have them anymore.”
I resisted rolling my eyes. “What if you do go over the ledge? What then?”
“You can rescue me.” His hand tightened briefly before he released mine. “If you care to do so.”
If you care to do so. In that accent of his, it sounded even more condescending. I ground my teeth. “How about I strangle you now and save myself the trouble?”
“It’s always been your choice.” Matt walked off toward the opening that led to the base of the waterfall.
Your choice. The same words Vane said to me. I bit my lip until I felt the sharp sting of pain. For a second, the teetering edge of my control balanced. It didn’t last.
I forced my drooping shoulders to straighten. The rush of the water soothed the jagged edges inside a brittle soul. I hugged the sound deep into myself.
Monkeys hugged the railing just before it ended at a slanted, grassy area that led up to the right side of the waterfall. The pool stood several feet above road-level. I bought quartz stones from one of the street sellers that traversed the field. By the time I caught up to Matt, he was standing beside the pool. I looked up. On the side of the falls where we stood, tiered boulders stacked uphill like stepping-stones for a giant... or a monkey god who once stood at the top of this rock and scoured Rawana’s realm for a lost princess.
“Done shopping?” He tied a rope around my middle and tightened its other end around his stomach. He pointed me toward an opening that showed a rough path up the rocks and started toward it. We climbed slowly up, gripping the surprisingly rough edges of the damp boulders. Several minutes later, I paused for a breath.
“These people are poor. I’m helping them,” I said.
“You’re helping to create a demand that can’t be sustained. What will happen if tourism stagnates, and they’ve all stopped farming to sell trinkets and become guides? Who will feed them then?”
“Maybe the tourism won’t stop. What’s wrong with a little progress? It’s a new world, Merlin. Embrace it.”
“Technology doesn’t change people’s basic needs or their natures,” he muttered. We reached one tiered level above the pool. Matt kept going.
I said to his back, “You’re such a pessimist.”
“Realist,” he answered. “People from this time have a certain expectation from life that didn’t exist in mine.”
“Did you just call me spoiled? You can’t tell me you’d rather go back to the Dark Ages. Starvation. The Plague. No plumbing,” I said. “Exactly what is this certain expectation?”
We made it to the second tier. He walked over a thin ledge to a boulder close to the waterfall and tested a small foothold. I tugged at the rope around our middles. It yanked against his stomach. He stilled. “In a sense, life back then was easier.”
Life without you was easier.
I crossed the ledge to face him. “If I’m so spoiled, then why do you bother with me at all?”
Shadows darkened on his face as the afternoon slipped into evening. “You pulled the sword, Ryan. You’re capable of more.”
I stiffened. “I can only do what I can. I’m not changing for you.”
“I’m not asking you to.” Matt took a step closer. Our bodies stood a mere few inches apart. He reached out a hand. It hovered just under my chin but didn’t make any contact.
“I’m asking you to make choices, Ryan.” Soulful, amber eyes captured mine and refused to let go. He said huskily, “I’ve told you multiple times how I feel. You’ve never replied.”
For a second, I forgot to breathe. I forgot everything, but us. In this spot. At this time. Roaring water slammed against rocks with the same intensity as my own pulse beat against my eardrums. I whispered, “Maybe because I’ve never believed you.”
Matt let out a small, startled laugh. “You don’t believe me or believe in me?”
“I could say