He squeezes my arm. “Stay safe.”
He walks away just as Frey approaches, signaling that our carriage has arrived. Frey takes the duffle bag from my hands and places it next to his in the front seat. The two of us climb in the back, the door swings down into place, and locks. We do a quick U-turn and enter into a busy morning.
Our carriage slips in line with the others as they whisk by, changing over to other cables when they approach their drop-off points. The sun is shining brightly. Frey scoots closer, almost bumping into me. He drapes his arm along the back of the seat, practically tickling my shoulder with his fingers. The signs draped down each building are bright and flashy, even though the sun is out. I wonder if they leave them on all the time. We head south, swinging around skyscrapers then turn left. Tarsus is larger than I had anticipated.
A half-hour later we emerge from the main part of the city and out into a calmer, more sporadic setting. Small trees line the streets that branch off into sub-divisions with large, ornate houses. It’s another thirty minutes before we slow, change cables, and move down a stone path. The house we’re heading towards is a single story covered in windows, gray wood trim, and covers several lots. The carriage comes to a stop just outside a portico by the front door. Frey takes our bags and we walk to the door as the carriage leaves. The air smells sweet. The ground is made up of sand more than dirt, but the vegetation grows perfectly.
“This is a far cry from the Outer Limits,” I say, taking in all the color from the various plants and flowers.
“I told you so.”
Frey opens the door, gestures for me to go before him, and he closes it once we’re inside, leaving our bags by the door. Tall windows line the back wall of the common room showing waves crashing against the beach at the back of the property. The only water I’ve ever seen in my life came out of a faucet. I have to step down into the common room as I try to move closer to the windows, fascinated by the waves beyond. I can feel Frey standing behind me. He places his hands on my biceps, gently stroking them.
“Nice isn’t it?” he asks.
“Yes. Why would you want to leave a place like this?”
“Because Frey is never happy unless he’s in charge,” a man answers, entering from a dining room on our right. The man’s face is long, with doe eyes, brown wispy hair graying at the temples, and a stunning smile. Frey resembles him, but only slightly. “I didn’t know we were going to have company,” he says.
“Sorry, Dad, the Keepers didn’t allow us to contact anyone about our retreat. I didn’t think you and Mom would mind having us.”
The man smiles, but I can tell he’s not pleased with the surprise. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”
“Max, this is my father, Avery.”
“Is Max short for something?” Avery asks, extending his hand to shake mine.
“No,” I lie.
I’m not a fan of my full name, so I only go by Max. I refuse to tell anyone what it really is. Tilda and Vernon were the only ones to ever know. I grow sad at the thought of Tilda gone, and angry with Vernon for ratting me out to the Aedox. I try not to show my feelings to Avery or Frey, though, since I’m sure they’ll ask questions I don’t want to answer.
“Frey, you can have her stay in your sister’s room. Your mother and I will be going out this evening, so you’re on your own for dinner.”
Frey takes our bags and nods for me to follow. Avery stays in the common room, watching us as we leave. I glance back before entering the hallway leading towards what I assume are the bedrooms, and Avery is gone. We pass several empty rooms before stopping outside one on the right, its door partially open. Frey pushes the door open with my bag. I follow him into the large room. The walls are covered in rice paper decorated with intricately scrolled designs. The bed lies against the back wall, stretching out into the center of the room. A desk sits on one side of the room, and a tall dresser against the other. Frey sets my bag down at the foot of the bed.
“You can store your clothes in the dresser or the closet. Both are empty. You have a private bath through that door,” he says, pointing to the sliding door on the right.
“Won’t your sister be home?”
“She’s not here anymore,” he says, frowning.
“Oh,” is all I reply.
“Get settled in and I’ll be back in about an hour.” He shuts the door when he leaves.
I scout the room, looking for what, I don’t know. There doesn’t seem to be any personal belongings of his sister anywhere in the room. I check out the bathroom, finding two towels, soap, shampoo, a toothbrush, and toothpaste. There’s a sunken bathtub in the far corner next to a shower stall. I go back into the bedroom and put my clothes away, not paying much attention to what Matron Kaniz packed for me. I tuck the bag in the closet, then sit on the edge of the bed. The only décor in the room, other than the rice paper, are two dragon statues on each of the side tables next to the bed. Both are small, green in color, and cemented to the furniture. They remind me of the dragon tattoo that Frey has and wonder if they’re connected.
I get up and stand in front of the lone window in the room. The waves move in rhythm with some unknown force, crashing quietly into the sand. The backyard is covered in tall grasses that look stiff and unyielding. I don’t hear Avery enter the room. I only know
