The Way of the Sea

Chapter Eight: The Merrow of Rue Point

Eden stood at the kitchen counter making herself a snack out of an apple and slice of bread. It wasn't much, but it would do until they were allowed to use the stove again. She forced herself to swallow the bite of dried-out bread, and tried to remember the days before the war when she feasted on warm, plentiful breakfasts. Before things like heat and light were rationed.

She heard the floor creak outside the kitchen, and she could tell it was Fredric approaching by the way his feet fell against the wooden floor. She had heard that pattern of footsteps through the house for seventeen years; always originating in his bedroom or office, trailing down the hallway and through the kitchen to the back door. Always outside. Always to Rue Point lighthouse.

Only, now, they were directed toward her, not the lighthouse. She sighed, fingering the crumbs of bread on the counter.

She'd been ignoring him -- or trying to, at least -- since Monday. It was Saturday now, and Eden had underestimated how taxing it would be to treat one of the two other people living in the house like he didn't exist.

Fredric's footsteps paused, and then came nearer. She was cornered.

Eden took a large bite out of her apple and wiped the juice away from her lips with the sleeve of her sweater, savoring her last moments of solitude before she knew she'd have to speak to him.

"Eden," Fredric said quietly, cautiously. "There's something I want to tell you."

"Mmhmm," Eden answered coolly.

"I thought you weren't ready," he said, "and maybe you're not, but--"

"Then why bring it up at all?" Eden turned her face so that she could barely see him out of the corner of her eye.

"—But there's no way to ever be ready for what has befallen us," he continued, as if Eden hadn't spoken. "And I love you too much too keep you in the dark anymore."

Eden swallowed and turned around, her bitterness giving way only to suspicion.

Fredric stood by the table, not depending on it for his strength like he had before. His eyes told her he was still sorrowful, but that he was not broken anymore. Strands of his black hair hung over his eyes and he brushed them away. He hadn't bothered shaving in the last few days, and his face was dotted with salt-and-pepper stubble.

His eyes searched hers, looking for something. For what, Eden didn't know. She looked down, away from his probing gaze.

"What did you want to tell me?" she asked in a steady voice.

A twinge of hope was evident in Fredric's voice when he spoke. "Well," he said, drawing her attention back to him, "It's something I have to show you."

He strode past Eden and opened the back door, holding it open for her. Eden followed him outside, saying nothing. The path from their house to the lighthouse was well-worn, and it was on that very path which Fredric led her now.

Eden's pulse quickened as she realized that Fredric was possibly going to answer the questions that had risen in her mind to torment her heart. She didn't know what the lighthouse had to do with any of it, but she'd go almost anywhere if it could get her father talking.

They reached the base of the lighthouse and Fredric pulled open the creaky, red door. He rounded up the stairs without speaking and Eden followed, pulling the door shut behind her.

The door to the top level opened up from the ceiling above them. Fredric pushed it open and light flooded the stairwell. They climbed into the lantern room and both of them were captivated by the sight that surrounded them.