Sapphire by the Sea

Chapter 2 | TALULLAH

Chapter 2 TALULLAH

One perk of traveling so often to Praeteriti was that she’d finally perfected her landing. She no longer thumped onto the hard ground, earning bruises on both her body and her pride, to the amusement of the ghosts who always seemed to be gathered and waiting for her. An intimate group of them, always the same, like her personal fan club. Or personal bullies. She never could tell the motivation behind their teasing. Mostly, she suspected, it was boredom. Though now that the portals were open, she couldn’t imagine they didn’t have anything better to do.

Either way, the wing of the library with the closet that used to house the Unforgiven had never been busier.

This time, she exited the tube gracefully, standing and brushing off the light layer of purple dust that had collected on her cloak.

Talullah touched her hair, now just a bit shorter than when she’d entered Igdrasil. The red tunic she’d been wearing had changed to the cream one she’d worn the first time she’d crossed the threshold. The world of the past preserved its people as a snapshot of their former selves, at least in appearance. She should have been used to it by now. But she wasn’t.

“Hi, Cecile,” Talullah said, acknowledging the woman with the parasol.

“Back so soon?” Cecile asked, her sugary drawl thick like honey. “And all alone again, I see.” She sighed, not even trying to mask her disappointment. It was written all over her perfectly lined lips.

“Afraid so,” Talullah said.

Cecile had been very taken with Talullah’s best friend Dhalian when they’d come to Praeteriti together that first time. Apparently, she’d told her friends. Cecile glanced at the other two ghosts, a young woman with a strong jaw whose intricately tied piece of fabric hugged her full body and a young man with dark eyes and just the faintest whisper of a mustache. “Not with her,” Cecile said to them. Her companions deflated visibly.

“Oh well,” said the young man, his lilting accent a soft surprise to Talullah’s ears. “Maybe next time. Up for a round of dice?”

“You know I’m terrible at dice,” the strong-jawed woman said.

“Precisely why I extended the invitation.” The young man laughed and hooked his arm through hers and they turned, winding their way through the stacks toward the stairs. “Good to see you again, Keeper,” he called over his shoulder.

“They were curious,” Cecile said by way of explanation.

“I’m sure Dhalian would love to see you.” A mischievous smile perched on Talullah’s face as she imagined Dhalian waking up to find a gorgeous ghost making doe-eyes at him behind a pleated fan. She almost couldn’t contain the laughter.

“You think?” Cecile tugged nervously at one of her curls. “Well, maybe I’ll just freshen up and pay him a visit. Where is he these days?”

“Across the sea, last I heard. He’s surveying the northern coast of the other continent with Master Norr.” It had been over a month since Dhalian had written to tell her he and Master Norr were setting off across the sea to chart the land on the other continent, a contract they’d won because of Master Norr’s reputation and relationships with the local people. And because they were unaffiliated with either king. Talullah had responded with congratulations, of course. It had always been Dhalian’s dream to travel abroad, to see the world. She’d been foolish to think his journey with her to Praeteriti could appease his wanderlust. But still, it had hurt. Knowing he’d chosen to leave when he could have chosen to stay.

“Oh my, that is a journey indeed. But worth it, I’m sure.” Cecile winked and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Enjoy your stay, Talullah.”

“Give him my regards,” Talullah called after her. It sounded more desperate than she’d intended.

When Cecile had sauntered off, her parasol twirling lazily behind her, Talullah stopped to listen.

A few ghosts chattered nearby, but that wasn’t anything new.

Ghosts are terrible gossips, Gillie had told her. He was right. Talullah didn’t mind their whispers, whether they were about her or not. All that concerned her were the voices in her head. And right then, they were, for the first time since her last visit to the world of the past, blissfully silent.

Despite the increased popularity of the library, she never saw anyone else looking at the books. That’s why she hadn’t felt too guilty about removing a few volumes and taking them to her present. No one would miss them. In fact, some of the books probably existed elsewhere in her world, anyway. The past didn’t exist only in Praeteriti. It was everywhere, in everything and everyone. She was living proof of that. It just happened that, in Praeteriti, only the past existed. A fine distinction, but important.

She felt strangely light as she made her way down the rows of books, twisting and turning through the stacks. The smell of old parchment and ink filtered through her senses.

“That’s the Keeper,” some ghosts whispered as she passed. “The Keeper of the Keys.”

“She freed the Unforgiven from their prison.”

“She reopened the portals.”

“She’s a hero.”

The first three were truth. The last, debatable. It was maybe a bit counterintuitive coming to a place to forget when these were the only beings who could also remember. That was the source of her loneliness, wasn’t it? Being the only one of her family who could remember Renevelda and Castle Terrapese and how close her sisters had come to being a sacrifice to the sorceress’ cause. Walking among the ghosts comforted her because, for the time being, she didn’t have to remember. They could carry that burden for her, even for just a little while.

Talullah took the spiral staircase down to the first floor, purposefully avoiding the large window that faced the open field where the Mazuchawi, the magic maze, had appeared. The field called to her, or something inside her called to it. But she couldn’t face the place where she’d found the amethyst and lost her mother. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Its sweet scent of mystery was tainted with failure. And that was not why she’d come.

Talullah dropped her books into the Returns bin in the lobby. As soon as they hit the bottom with a thunk, they flickered, then disappeared. To return to their former place.

If only it were that easy to find a place to belong.

“Now where?” Talullah mused to herself.

She’d tried almost every section she could think of, but she still hadn’t found what she was looking for. If anyone else had ever gotten the voices of the Unforgiven stuck in their head, they either hadn’t written it down, hadn’t figured out a solution, or she just hadn’t found it yet. She hoped it was that last one. There were countless books spread out on the shelves, in rows that seemed to go on forever. She’d only explored the first floor. Who knew how many more tomes spilled with words from another time and place? That was why, in addition to quieting the voices for a while, she kept coming back. There were few problems that books couldn’t solve. This couldn’t be one of them. She just hoped she had enough time to find the answer. While the books might be infinite, her life was not. Neither was the time she could make available to search.

Breathing in the intoxicating mixture of old paper and lavender, Talullah let her worries fall away. This was her happy place, and she intended to keep it that way.

“Psychology it is,” she said, adjusting her knapsack on her shoulders and moving toward the vast collection of accounts of the mind.