crackles in and around me. Traces of others who’ve passed through here linger in the air. But the emotion is a fraction of what I felt coming down the well. Kurt whispers, “According to legend, the laria feed on the memories of men.” I wonder which of my memories are mingled in with the others.
“Mind the floors,” Kurt says. “The pools are chambers of eternal sleep. Only the oracle can release you once you’ve plunged in.”
In one of the occupied pools, a girl’s hair floats up to the surface like weeds. I wonder why she’s down there. What is she running from that would make her want to do this? I tell myself that I want to remember all of my life, no matter what happens.
At the end of the cave is a great basin made of polished moonstone. A tiny waterfall fills it, and the runoff trickles into skinny rivers that line the grounds. “Pretty sweet Jacuzzi.”
Kurt elbows me in the ribs. “Shh.”
I want to tell him to chill out, though my insides are as uneasy as the tremble in my legs. I miss Shelly’s pond in Central Park. The bright Thumbelina-sized fairy maidens that blew me kisses. Even Shelly’s kind, wrinkly face.
Then, she emerges.
Her movements are slow and delicate, like a doll coming to life. Wondrous and strange, from the belly up she’s so pink. Her eyes are like the blush of new roses. Her smooth, naked torso is obscured by powder-pink hair tumbling down to the water. At her hips, she disappears into a giant, golden nautilus shell. I wonder how she bends her legs to fit. Maybe she doesn’t have any legs.
“Surely you’ve seen creatures more wondrous than me on your travels, Tristan Hart.” Her voice… Her voice is achingly lovely. Every word fills me with a peace I haven’t felt in so long. I want to put a smile on her sad face.
“No, ma’am.” I know I sound dreamy, but I feel very, very good.
She turns a fraction, setting pink jeweled eyes on Kurt, and I suddenly hate it. I want her to keep looking at me. “Surprised to see me, Kurtomathetis?”
“You’re not Lucine.” His words are steeped in disappointment and hurt, but when I wait for him to turn to me and explain, all he can do is stare at the nautilus maid.
“Come forward,” she tells him.
And he does it. Kurt, the most logical guy I’ve ever met, goes to her without even thinking. It happens slowly, the brush of his feet on the ground, then all at once, into a memory pool with a heavy splash. The space is narrow but he manages to lift one hand to punch against the force containing him until he stops moving and finally sleeps.
“Why’d you do that?”
“Because I don’t need him, that’s why.”
Somewhere in my mind I know she’s wrong. But here I am, agreeing with everything she says.
“Your girl,” I say. My tongue is like wet cotton in my mouth. “I had something for you and she took it.”
“I’ve no use for trinkets.”
“But I have nothing else.” I sound whiny. I don’t want to sound whiny, but I do. It’s like I’m complaining to my mom. I miss my mom. My bed. My friends. I want to sleep like Kurt. Then the cave whispers, and I snap awake.
Her voice is like a trail, and I follow it around the danger of the sleeping chambers and right up to her basin where she fingercombs her hair. “I know something you can give me.”
The cave dims. We’re alone. She dips her fingers in the water around her. There’s that smile, brilliant as dawn. When she looks back up at me, her eyes glow with eager newness. I wonder what happened to her legs, then I study her face—the slope of her nose, the bow of her mouth—she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Second. Second most beautiful—but I can’t remember who the first is.
“Why was he surprised to see you?” I ask.
“You mean why am I here?” Her smile is strained. I can tell she doesn’t do that very often. “You mean how could I possibly be stuck in this cave on an island full of degenerates? I don’t belong here. I belong in Eternity. Eternity is my home. But my sisters and I, we are all shifting, moving, breaking, like the plates beneath us. We’re moving like we’re intended to. I must be here and now for you. In the Well of Memories.”