shrug. The truth is that there is no answer.
“Me, too,” Mom says. “Me, too.”
“I think Toraf should come to Galen’s house to recover,” Rayna says to Grom. There is no fight left in her. Just words and feelings. “I think we should ask Dr. Milligan to come look at him.”
Grom nods. He is not in the mood for conflict, either. “I think you’re right, little sister.” He motions to the Trackers who hold an unconscious Toraf in their arms. “Take Princess Rayna and her mate wherever she bids you.” He turns to his sister and presses a quick kiss to her forehead. “Send word if you need anything from me.”
Mom had wrapped Toraf’s side with seaweed to stave off the bleeding, but a small red stain is starting to soak through. He had a close call and we all know it. Just because his organs were spared doesn’t mean his muscles will heal correctly. I hadn’t thought of calling Dr. Milligan. I’m glad Rayna did. Besides, Dr. Milligan will want to be updated on all the latest events. And we have to tell him about Rachel.
Rayna throws her arms around Grom in a fierce, short hug. “I will. I really will.”
This chokes me up a bit. Even Mom appreciates the obvious upgrade in their relationship—and she doesn’t even like Rayna. She gives my shoulder another squeeze. I pat her hand and lean into her. We’ve all been through so much. But we’ve been through it together. Even Grom and Rayna are grateful for each other today.
When Rayna and the Trackers leave, Grom glances topside. Then he lets his gaze settle on me. “Young Emma.” It doesn’t sound condescending at all, the way he says it. Just wistful. “The twins will need you now. More than they realize.” He eases closer to me, pensive. “It was difficult for them when we lost our mother. Losing Rachel is … They suffered a great loss today.”
I draw in a breath. If we weren’t underwater, tears would be spilling down my cheeks instead of getting sopped up by the gentle current. I wonder how many tears the ocean has swallowed, how much of the ocean is actually made of tears.
“Grom, I hate to ask something like this, but what will we do with her body?” Mom says.
“What do humans normally do with their dead?”
“They bury them on land, or burn them. But the humans have rules and restrictions on that sort of thing. And Rachel wasn’t exactly … Rachel has a complicated past. A past that makes it impossible to properly bury her.”
I can tell this has already been weighing on Grom’s mind. Is this the sort of thing adults think about when someone dies, to take care of these matters first and grieve later? A look of understanding passes between Grom and my mom. “I’ll talk to the council about the Tomb Chamber,” he says. “I hardly think they’ll put up much of a resistance after today.”
“I would like that,” Galen says from behind his brother. I swim to him and he meets me halfway. His big arms encircle me. It’s not a bear hug, or a sensual touch. It feels like Galen is clinging to me for dear life. Like he is caught in a riptide and I am his anchor.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper into his neck. The words almost lodge in my throat. He clutches me to him tighter, and rests his chin on the top of my hair.
“Woden has her,” he tells Grom. “Until we decide what’s best.”
Grom doesn’t answer. In fact, after a few minutes, I sense the pulses of Mom and Grom moving away from us. After several more minutes, I can’t sense them at all. The only pulse I feel is Galen’s. It drums against me, through me, around me.
Things will change without Rachel. Life will not run as smoothly. But this will not change. The way we fit together. The way we know each other.
Epilogue
“YOU’RE SURE you want to do this,” Galen says, eyeing me like I’ve grown a tiara of snakes on my head.
“Absolutely.” I unstrap the four-hundred-dollar silver heels and spike them into the sand. When he starts unraveling his tie, I throw out my hand. “No! Leave it. Leave everything on.”
Galen frowns. “Rachel would kill us both. In our sleep. She would torture us first.”
“This is our prom night. Rachel would want us to enjoy ourselves.” I pull the thousand-or-so bobby pins from my hair and toss them in the sand. Really,