Seven

Eric is glad to escape from Tor’s house.

He still doesn’t know why the man bothers him, but he does. He cannot work out why, when he’s been nothing but kind, and helpful.

Eric straddles his bike at the intersection of Homeway and Crossway, and studies the map.

He decides to start again, at the beginning, and to head back north to the quay. From there he will cycle south, methodically exploring every lane and path. If they are producing some elixir here, they must be growing large quantities of the Dracula Orchid, which means a field, or maybe a series of greenhouses. He doesn’t know much about orchids, not even if they can be cultivated en masse, but he knows they are rare and delicate things, that tolerate only very finely balanced conditions in which to grow. In any case, it’s an incredibly rare variety that grows so far north.

He sets off, and suddenly he is smiling again.

Much of his life is spent traveling, investigating stories all over the world. Most of the time he’s on his own, and sometimes the trips he has to make are hard, dangerous even. With no one waiting for him at home, not even any truly lifelong friends, he often feels like a ghost, drifting over the face of the earth, rootless. If he died, it would be weeks before anyone even knew, let alone cared. Just for once, his journey has taken him somewhere lovely, somewhere warm, and beautiful. He starts laughing.

He laughs at the fact that he’s able to freewheel the whole way to the quayside. He whizzes along, the bees humming around his head and around the flowers that burst with life on every side.

Birds call, and his bike picks up speed. He sticks his feet out sideways and feels the joy of the simple pleasure of freewheeling in the sunshine. He plays a little game, seeing how long he dares shut his eyes for, and as he does, the image in his mind is, inexplicably, Merle’s soft neck. And his lips brushing it.

He snaps out of it, reminding himself he is here to work, but nevertheless, as he arrives at the quay, there is still a smile on his face.

The smile gets bigger when he sees Merle approaching.

“How is your article coming?” she says brightly.

“Everyone is so concerned about me!” he says, laughing.

Merle seems puzzled.

“And why wouldn’t we be?” she says. She tips her head on one side, and Eric swears he can feel his heart swell.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “it’s just that the rest of the world is different from here. People aren’t so thoughtful. So generous. It’s all rush-rush, no time for please and thank you. It’s…”

“I understand,” Merle says. “It’s different.”

“Well, so it is,” he says. He stops, trying to think of something to say to keep the conversation going. He looks down. “Tor lent me this bike.”

Inwardly he groans at another stunningly ineloquent conversation piece. But it doesn’t matter. Ever so gently, Merle puts her hand on his forearm.

“I found you,” she says. That’s all.

Before she can say more, something distracts her and she looks over his shoulder.

“Forthwith the devil did appear”—she sighs—“for name him and he’s always near.”

“Pardon?” says Eric, but Merle does not reply. He turns to see Tor standing behind him.

“You got here quickly,” Eric says bluntly.

“I strolled up from the Cross House,” Tor replies. “You forget, it is a small island. It doesn’t take so very long to get anywhere. Even on foot, and even for an old man, as I am.”

Again, Eric wonders how old Tor is. How old anyone really is on Blessed.

“I have some business to discuss with Merle,” Tor says, smiling.

He waits. Fixing Eric with his one good eye.

“Oh, of course,” Eric stammers, and nods. “Well, I must get going. See you later.” His eyes are on Merle alone as he says this, hoping for some reaction from her.

For the briefest of moments there is a look of such trembling intensity on her face, and in that moment, he realizes he was wrong. He looks at her lips and her eyes, the curve of her eyebrow, and realizes that she is beautiful.

“Bye, Eric,” she says.

He nods, backs away, and cycles off.

I found you.

Was there some deeper meaning behind what she said?

He wants to believe there is.