Passion

“We’re not? I thought we were taking the Grand Tour of Love.” He rubbed his forehead, and flinty flakes showered from his scalp. “Did I misunderstand?”

“Where are Lucinda and Daniel?”

“Hang on.” He hovered in the air in front of Luce. “Don’t you want a little history?”

Luce ignored him and scooted over toward the mast. She stretched an unsteady foot to the highest of the pegs that spiked out from the mast’s sides.

“Don’t you at least want a hand?”

She’d been holding her breath and trying not to look down as her foot slid off the wooden peg a third time. Finally, she swallowed dryly and reached out to take the cold, rough claw Bill extended to her.

As she took Bill’s hand, he pulled her forward, then off the mast entirely. She yelped as the wet wind battered her face, sending the skirt of her dress billowing around her waist. She shut her eyes and waited to plunge through the rotten decking below.

Only she didn’t.

She heard a throosh and felt her body catch in the air. She opened her eyes. Bill’s stubby wings had ballooned out and caught the wind. He was supporting her weight with just one hand, carrying her slowly to shore. It was miraculous how nimble he was, how light. Luce was surprised to find herself relaxing— somehow the sensation of flying was natural to her by now.

Daniel. As the air encircled her, the ache to be with him overtook her. To hear his voice and taste his lips— Luce could think of nothing else. What she wouldn’t have given to be in his arms just then!

The Daniel she’d encountered in Helston, however happy he’d been to see her, had not really known her. Not the way her Daniel did. Where was he right now?

“Feeling better?” Bill asked.

“Why are we here?” Luce asked as they soared over the water. It was so clear she could see inky shadows moving underwater—giant schools of fish, swimming easily, following the shoreline.

“See that palm tree?” Bill pointed forward with his free claw. “The tallest one, third from the break in the sandbar?”

Luce nodded, squinting.

“That’s where your father in this life built his hut. Nicest shack on the beach!” Bill coughed. “Actually, it’s the only shack on the beach. The Brits haven’t even discovered this side of the island yet. So when your pops is off fishing, you and Daniel have the place mostly to yourselves.”

“Daniel and I … lived here … together?”

Hand in hand, Luce and Bill touched down on the shore with the soft elegance of two dancers in a pas de deux. Luce was grateful—and a little shocked—at how smoothly he’d been able to get her down from the mast of the ship, but as soon as she was firmly on the ground, she withdrew her hand from his grimy claw and wiped it on her apron.

It was starkly beautiful here. The crystal waters washed against the strange and lovely black-sand beaches. Groves of citrus and palm trees leaned over the coast, heavy with bright-orange fruit. Past the trees, low mountains rose up from the mists of the rain forest. Waterfalls cut into their sides. The wind down here wasn’t as fierce; better still, it was thick with the scent of hibiscus. It was hard to imagine getting to spend a vacation here, let alone an entire life.

“You lived here.” Bill started walking along the curved shoreline, leaving little claw prints in the dark sand. “Your dad, and all ten of the other natives who lived within canoeing distance, called you—well, it sounded like Lulu.”

Luce had been walking quickly to keep pace, balling up the layered skirts of her Helston servant’s clothing to keep them from dragging in the sand. She stopped and made a face.

“What?” Bill said. “I think it’s cute, Lulu. Lulululululu.”

“Stop it.”

“Anyway, Daniel was a kind of rogue explorer. That boat back there? Your ace boyfriend stole it from George the Third’s private slip.” He glanced back at the shipwreck. “But it’ll take Captain Bligh and his mutinous crew another couple of years to track Daniel down here, and by then … you know.”

Luce swallowed. Daniel would probably be long gone by then, because Lucinda would be long dead.

They’d reached a gap in the line of palm trees. A brackish river flowed in swirls between the ocean and a small inland freshwater pond. Luce edged along a few flat stones to cross the water. She was sweating through her petticoats and thought about stripping out of her stifling dress and diving straight into the ocean.

“How much time do I have with Lulu?” she asked. “Before it happens?”

Bill held up his hands. “I thought all you wanted to see was proof that the love you share with Daniel is true.”

“I do.”

“For that, you won’t need more than ten minutes.”

They came upon a short orchid-lined path, which curved onto another pristine beach. A small thatch-roofed hut rose on stilts near the edge of the light-blue water. Behind the hut, a palm tree shuddered.

Bill perched above her shoulder, hovering in the air. “Check her out.” His stone claw pointed toward the palm.

Luce watched in awe as a pair of feet emerged from the fronds high on the quaking tree trunk. Then a girl wearing little more than a woven skirt and an enormous floral lei tossed four shaggy brown coconuts to the beach before scampering down the knobby trunk to the ground.

Her hair was long and loose, catching in its dark strands diamonds of light from the sun. Luce knew the exact feel of it, the way it would tickle her arms as it swayed in waves past her waist. The sun had turned Lulu’s skin a deep golden brown—darker than Luce had ever been, even when she spent a whole summer at her grandmother’s beach house in Biloxi—and her face and arms were etched with dark geometric tattoos. She existed somewhere between utterly unrecognizable and absolutely Luce.

“Wow,” Luce whispered as Bill yanked her behind the shelter of a shrubby, purple-flowered tree. “Hey—Ow! What are you doing?”

“Escorting you to a safer vantage.” Bill dragged her up again into the air, until they were rising through the canopy of leaves. Once they cleared the trees, he flew her to a high, sturdy branch and plunked her down, and she could see the whole beach.

“Lulu!”

The voice sank though Luce’s skin and straight into her heart. Daniel’s voice. He was calling to her. He wanted her. Needed her. Luce moved toward the sound. She hadn’t even noticed that she’d started to rise from her seat on the high branch, as if she could just walk off the treetop and fly to him—until Bill gripped her elbow.

“Precisely why I had to drag your popa’a ass up here. He’s not talking to you. He’s talking to her.”

“Oh.” Luce sank back down heavily. “Right.”

On the black sand, the girl with the coconuts, Lulu, was running. And down the beach, sprinting toward her, was Daniel.

He was shirtless, gorgeously tanned and muscular, wearing only cropped navy-blue trousers that were fraying at the edges. His skin glittered with seawater, fresh from a dip in the ocean. His bare feet kicked up sand. Luce envied the water, envied the sand. Envied everything that got to touch Daniel when she was stuck up in this tree. She envied her past self the most.

Running toward Lulu, Daniel looked happier and more natural than Luce could ever remember seeing him. It made her want to cry.

They reached each other. Lulu threw her arms around him, and he swept her up, twirling her in the air. He set her back on her feet and showered her with kisses, kissing her fingertips and her forearms, all the way up to her shoulders, her neck, her mouth.

Bill reclined against Luce’s shoulder. “Wake me up when they get to the good stuff,” he said, yawning.

“Pervert!” She wanted to slug him, but she didn’t want to touch him.

“I mean the tattooing, gutter-brain. I’m into tats, okay?”

When Luce looked back at the couple on the beach, Lulu was leading Daniel to a woven mat that was spread on the sand not far from the hut. Daniel pulled a short machete from the belt of his trousers and hacked at one of