The Amulet Of Nicmir (The Scripts Of Neptune, Book 1)

Chapter 44

The chasm vanished. Nyle found himself on his hands and knees on a dark stone floor, his body trembling in the sudden cold, his wrists and ankles chafed from the chains. Pain hot enough to leave a burn flared in his palms where he'd broken his own bones. Hunching over, he opened his mouth in a silent scream.

"Interesting."

Nyle looked up, locking his jaw against the pain. Strands of sweat-soaked hair hung over his eyes. When he flicked his tongue out over his bottom lip, he tasted salt and blood.

Rhamarr had taken on the form of another prominent fear. Naru, all lithe, slender limbs and narrow features. He sat on the edge of the stone slab, ankles crossed under his robes, his pale hair smoothed back from his shrewd, calculating eyes. Those eyes were lighter than ever, almost colorless. "It's been a few millennia since anyone survived that particular one. On to the emotions, then? You'll like this one."

Lazily, he waved his long, bony fingers. Again, the room disappeared.

Before he even opened his eyes, Nyle knew where he was. The wind, gentle and warm, tapped memories buried deep in his bones, leaving him raw and exposed. Salty air tickled his nose. The sound of seagrass swaying both lulled his mind and made him ache in a dizzying contradiction of emotions.

He was home.

When he finally gathered the courage to open his eyes, his throat locked up. He was standing on the wooden deck of the stilted, thatched house that held so many bittersweet memories, facing the sea. It was a clear day, a few thin clouds sailing over the deep white-blue of water and waves. The gulls' shrill, distant cries as they swooped over the water and rode the wind like kites were comforting in the strangest of ways. Everything was peaceful, quiet. Surreal. Nyle wanted to forget himself here, just lose himself in the scene.

He hadn't realized how homesick he was, deep down. Even this illusion of the sea and the grass, rippling like heatwaves at the edges, made him long to sail again like he had so many times with his father.

Behind him, the door opened and shut softly.

"Nyle?"

He couldn't breathe.

Couldn't do anything but listen to his heartbeat throb in his ears as soft footsteps approached and a gentle hand touched his shoulder, turning him to face its owner.

He knew her face. So, so well. Every memory of her had her smiling, when she tucked him in or let him help make the bread, or when his father would come home from the port and dance with her in the kitchen to music only they could hear. Always smiling. It showed in the faint wrinkles around her eyes, just enough to betray her age. Everything else screamed joy and lingering youth, from her wavy brown hair to the life in her eyes.

"Mother?" He choked on the question.

A little smile graced her lips. The wind caught her hair, tangling it into a golden-brown net that glowed like fire against the sky in the sunlight. "You came home," she said, her voice rich as he'd remembered. He'd loved her voice, how she sounded when she sang him to sleep. With a hesitant touch, she reached up and brushed his hair back from his eyes. "You've grown."

"Yeah," was all he could force out. There were too many crippled feelings swarming in his chest, pushing to make an appearance.

His mother frowned, and it was so achingly familiar that Nyle wanted to embrace her and never let go again.

So he did.

He wrapped his arms around her frame and held her against him like she was an anchor and he'd be swept away if he let go. She held on to him just as tightly. His hands hurt so badly it brought tears to his eyes, but he curled them in her shirt anyway, burying his nose in her hair like he had when he was a kid. Gods, she still smelled the same, like ginger and nutmeg and sunshine. Everything he'd lost that day rushed back and hit him like a hammer to a clay pot. Ten years fell away like a shell. He wasn't a soldier, or a warrior, or an heir or orphan anymore. He was a son, a seven-year-old boy, safe in the arms of his mother. She was warmth and safety and everything he'd craved to feel again since he'd lost her.