“Yeah,” she agreed.
“What do you want?” he asked. “I mean, I know right now you want Dak. I get that, for sure. But without him, what do you want? What brought you all this way down the road with him?”
“Not really sure,” she said. “But this . . . I’m really glad to have seen all this.” She stared at the ocean, its expansive breadth, the endless rippling sameness of it. Storm clouds gathered on the horizon and piled high, brought in by a sudden wind that tasted of brine. “I might just keep walking, with or without him.”
“You can always stay here if you need to. With or without Dak.”
She didn’t know she needed that encouragement until he said it. She grinned back warmly.
Back at Petula, Dak was sitting on a bench outside, arms crossed, head resting against the wall. As if he’d gotten this far and couldn’t wait for that nap any longer. She hesitated a moment, watching him, setting sun turning his skin golden, his brown hair draped around his shoulders. His face looked young; his lips rested in a vague smile. He couldn’t have been more alluring if he’d posed this way on purpose, as if he were a piece of art.
She had an idea. Second-guessed herself on that idea, then went back to it, and then considered a third time. And then decided to just give in to the urge. If it went badly, so be it.
Dashing the last few steps, she threw herself on the bench, sliding right up to press against him, and wrapped her arms around his middle, holding him tight. Held her breath as she waited to see what he would do. Let it out with a sigh when he laughed and put his arms around her.
That was what she wanted. What she’d hoped he would do.
“Having a good day, I take it,” he said.
“Hmm.” She hugged him harder, resting her head on his shoulder. She could almost hear his heart. Tipping her head up, she didn’t wait for him to kiss her, but touched his chin and held him still so she could kiss him. If she wanted something, she decided, she ought to ask for it.
He seemed perfectly happy kissing her, and she melted against him. And all was again right with the world.
When she heard footsteps on the path, she assumed it was Xander finally returning from the docks. But no, there were two sets, and unfamiliar voices in conversation. She and Dak broke their kiss and looked out.
Two figures in brown unif
orms approached. Both she and Dak tensed, their bodies braced by instinct. Enid took a breath and relaxed as she saw the people wearing the uniforms—a short, dark-skinned woman with a kind smile, and the man who must have been her enforcer. He carried a staff, wore his blond hair braided, and kept a short strand of his beard braided as well. She didn’t know them, but they likely knew Tomas.
Dak turned anxious. Worried. She glanced at him, his uncharacteristic frown.
The investigators approached.
“Hola,” Enid called out to them, to break the tension that was threatening to knot them up.
“Hola!” the woman called back. “I’m Nala; this is Holt. Is this Petula Dock household?”
“Yeah,” she said.
“And how long have you two lived here?”
“We’re not actually part of the household; we’re just visiting. I’m Enid from Haven—do you know my friend Tomas? He’s an investigator.”
The man, Holt, answered with a smile. “Yeah—worked with him on a couple of cases up north. Good guy.”
Enid beamed. Maybe not as good as seeing someone from back home, but still a connection.
Nala looked at Dak. “And you are?”
“Dak,” he said. “I’m just traveling a bit. That’s all.” As if he was trying to provide an alibi.
But they weren’t here for Enid and Dak. Nala gestured. “The head of the house inside? That’s Fisher, isn’t it?”
“Can I ask what this is about?” Enid asked. Pure curiosity.
“I want to hold off on that until I speak to the folk I need to. You’ll hear about it soon enough, I imagine.”
The two investigators went in through the archway to the household’s inner yard.