Ruler of the Tides (Book Four of the Elementals)

VI. Geryon

What had Aeris seen to make her pull away from him? The second part of Geryon's own vision had filled him with so much joy—something he had never experienced—and wanted to share it with her as soon as they were done in the Visionary Room, but her pale face had given him pause. She had seen something horrifying, and he didn't feel it appropriate to share his good news, so he thought to give her time to recover.

But she still hadn't by the time morning came; as soon as they boarded the ferry for Asardia, she slipped away from him. He had walked the entire ship three times and still hadn't found her. The boat wasn't extremely large, so Aeris intentionally avoided him. There weren't many places she could hide and not be seen by someone, and they were on the ferry for a full day, so he would just wait her out and she would eventually show up.

But his patience breached annoyance. He wanted to talk to her, discuss what had scared her so badly together so he could banish that fear in her eyes. He hated seeing her silver eyes overcast; he had become used to seeing them clear like a summer day—he loved seeing her so carefree as she sang for Pica.

He was hurt; not disappointed, like Pica when Aeris refused to sing. His very soul felt like it was being stretched. Did she not trust him enough to share what troubled her? Did she not think he could help her overcome it? He would do anything to help her, even cast aside the future he had seen; without her, it couldn't happen, anyway.

After his third failed trip around the ferry, Geryon propped up against the deckhouse in the shade. The last time he did this flashed through his mind, but he ignored it—if Fangril attacked them again, he'd be sure to get away from the structure behind him. He had started to receive looks from the passengers as he patrolled the ferry, heat rising around him as his irritation grew. So, to spare everyone's discomfort, he moved to the shade to hopefully calm down.

Geryon had been propped up against the deckhouse close to half an hour—not noticing the sweltering heat surrounding him—when Tegen suddenly showed up. The foreboding aura didn't bother him as he willingly inserted himself into the broiling temperature and leaned against the structure beside him.

Neither of them said a thing for a long time.

"I assume Aeris still has not made herself approachable..." Tegen began.

His temper raised its infuriating head. "Would I be out here alone if she had?"

"No; I suppose not."

He looked at the Kemiji; guilt stung him when he noticed the beads of sweat on the green beast's head and torso. Geryon focused on lowering the heat around them. "Have you seen her?"

"Yes."

"Has she improved?"

"No."

He faced straight again with an inhalation of angry air; he felt the temperature begin to spike, so he let it out through a long sigh—he had to spare Tegen by reining in his temper. Letting her try to face this alone wasn't working, but she wasn't giving anyone a chance to come in and help. He couldn't go searching for her and demand that she tell him what she saw, but neither could he just sit back and watch her suffer.

"I want her to just tell me; it'll be easier on her knowing she's not alone. She knows I can try to help."

"Maybe she is afraid that you will not be able to, and she is trying to spare you the disappointment of knowing, but not being able to help," Tegen suggested. "Fear is a powerful emotion."

"That I know too well." Sometimes stronger than love, Geryon thought. His last view of a bleeding and in pain Zarn reaching out to him as Fangril's demons advancing to finish them before he turned and fled, flashed in his head.