Way of No Return (Champions of the Crystal Book 8)

Chapter 24.1

Cynthia was bone weary after finally getting Neralla to sleep, but she looked in on Seuréa afterward, not wanting the girl to feel neglected. The small room crammed with two single beds was empty, though. At least she took Captain Merion with her, Cynthia thought with a sigh.

The house was quiet; Sabrina was sleeping while the baby did, and the sun was almost fully set. Cynthia found a window and looked out toward the beach; sure enough, Merion was standing just off the back porch, looking out to sea. Seuréa was harder to spot, sitting just outside the reach of the waves.

"Doesn't she ever get tired of that?" Cynthia asked Merion as she went to stand beside her.

Merion gave her a sympathetic grimace. "I don't know yet. She said she wanted some time to herself. She's such a solemn child."

Cynthia remembered the carefree girl in Vahreen with a pang. "Not always." She smiled at Merion. "It's bedtime, anyway. The sun will be back up before we know it. I'll get her."

Walking down to the beach, Cynthia let herself enjoy the salty breeze and relax a little. It was hard work trying to keep everybody from getting on each other's nerves in the small house, especially with Sabrina's wild mood swings, which Cynthia hoped would disappear when her hormones settled down. She wasn't sure how she would broach the subject of medical treatment for them without starting another fight between Sabrina and Ford, which no one wanted.

"Hey there," Cynthia said softly when she got close enough to Seuréa, not wanting to startle her.

"Hi," Seuréa said, but it was more an acknowledgement than an invitation. Cynthia decided to sit down in the sand anyway.

Minutes passed in silence. Finally Cynthia picked up a pebble nearby and flung it into the ocean.

"Why did you do that?" Seuréa asked, startled.

"To see how far I could throw it," Cynthia admitted.

Seuréa turned back to the sea. After a moment, she picked up a small rock and flung it out over the water.

"Pretty good. Bet I can beat it, though," Cynthia said.

"Are we having a contest?"

"Why not?" Cynthia threw as hard as she could from a sitting position, easily outdistancing Seuréa's throw.

"Okay." Seuréa hefted another rock, examined it carefully, then threw it. She left her hand extended, and the rock vanished into the distance without ever hitting the water.

"Now you're just cheating," Cynthia complained.

Seuréa flashed a mischievous grin up at her before turning back to her contemplation of the water.

"So is that what you're doing out here? Learning to throw things with your mind?"

"No. Although I would like to. There is no one to teach me. My governess is in the infirmary, and Mother isn't here. And I am not supposed to practice unsupervised."

"We could find you a new teacher."

"No, you can't. It's against the law for anyone to teach me who hasn't been appointed by the Council of Trême and approved by the Guardian."

"Seriously?" Cynthia said, shocked.

"Seriously."

Cynthia was silent for a moment. Then she said, "I wish you'd warned me of that before I taught you to how bake cookies yesterday!"

Seuréa giggled. "I won't tell if you won't."

"I certainly won't now!" Cynthia wondered if she was actually subject to the laws on Praxatillus, or if she would just be deported to Earth as undesirable if found guilty of some weird crime. Assuming some transport could be found back to the twenty-first century. She realized with horror that it was possible they might deport her to Earth in this time period, where everyone she knew would be long dead and she would be almost as much an alien as she was here.

"Sabrina could teach me, or Ford," Seuréa mused. "But they're too busy."

"I don't suppose I'd be accepted as Sabrina's stand-in for that."

"No, I don't think so," Seuréa replied. "It's a shame, though. I would very much like to learn about healing so that I don't accidentally hurt anybody else the way I did Sabrina."

"It is a shame," Cynthia said. "Anatomy is something I am actually qualified to teach you. Human anatomy, anyway. The Praxatillians don't seem that different."

Seuréa sighed, then flung another rock out to sea.

Cynthia stood and brushed sand from her clothes. "Come on."

"I'm not sleepy."

"Good. Because I thought of something you could teach me."

"Really? What?"

"I want to learn to practice medicine here, but I don't read Praxatillian yet. You can help me with the language."

Seuréa scrambled to her feet. "Okay. I guess."

"But you must promise very solemnly not to be taught anything while you are translating my anatomy studies," Cynthia said.

Seuréa grinned.