Keeper of the Lost Cities: Rebuild [COMPLETED]

Chapter Fifty-Three - MARELLA

Marella was going to kill herself, and it would all be Sophie and Tam's fault.

"You can do this, you can do this, you can do this," she muttered to herself as she straightened. Her knees wobbled and she squealed, dropping her hands to the balcony railing. What am I DOING?

Ever since Maryntrilla, the urge to finally get over her fear of heights—which had developed right after her mother fell and hit her head—had prompted Marella to recreate the moment of jumping off the bridge. The memory was a little fuzzy; she recalled screaming like a boobrie, but also finally levitating, and Tam's hand in hers...

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to recreate that specific memory.

It wasn't like she was going to jump, either. The first step was standing on the railing. She could do that.

"Remember how fun it was," she said to herself, laughing hysterically. Right now, "fun" wasn't the word she'd use to describe the Trollish Bridge Fiasco. But if Tam were here, she would not be a chicken.

"Except he's not here!" she whined, forcing her calves to stop wilting and pushing her weight upward.

"Are you talking to yourself?" a voice—Tam's!—called from the courtyard below. She barely got a glimpse of him craning his neck to locate the sound of her voice before she toppled over the edge.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

There was a moment of panic in which Marella realized Tam couldn't catch her this time, which gave way to confusion as to why he was here in the first place, which quickly became panic again when it became clear she would never know if she didn't save herself.

"What's happening?!" Tam shouted, but she tuned out his voice and listened to what her body told her. It was less of a "pull," as Sophie had said, and more an instinctive thing—and as soon as Marella activated the levitation, she remembered what it had felt like in Maryntrilla.

She'd stopped herself about nine feet off the ground, but there the problem arose: how to get down. "Uh, Tam?" she asked, doggy-paddling forward and backward and to the sides, but not down. She tried doing a half-frontflip, then paddling, but she only ended up spinning around in circles.

Tam gingerly made his way over, reaching up and, when he couldn't find her, standing on his tiptoes. "Are you here?"

"Yeah," she said after hesitating; it was like she couldn't figure out the right thing to say. She knew he was tough, but seeing him cry—and not a My-Long-Lost-Relative-I-Didn't- Even-Know-About-Just-Died kind of cry, but real, heartbreaking sobs—gave her the urge to protect him at all costs. "How did you know that?"

"I smelled you."

"You... smelled me," she repeated drily. "Um, I should probably be offended right now, but I'm mostly in shock—"

"Marella," he interrupted, lips quirking upward. She felt a little shiver run down her spine—there was pleasure in making him smile. "I didn't mean it like that and you know it. Everyone just has this unique scent, I guess. I never really figured it out until now."

Right. Because he had to rely on every other sense but sight. The thought made her nauseous.

"If you can't get down—"

"I can get down." She struggled for a few more minutes before sighing, "Okay, maybe not. Except..." She released the levitation, dropping to the ground with an oof. "There we go!"

"There was an easier way, you know, but suit yourself."

"Yeah, well, there was no need to waste your breath teaching me how to use my skills when you could be telling me why you're here."