“Of course I came back,” the water said. “I’m a sea, not a river. All this flowing and silt was driving me mad. Besides”-his voice grew wistful-“no river could replace my own seabed. But I’m already resigned to that, and anyway, you’re my shore now, Miranda.”
She smiled at that, and held out her hands. “Ready to come home, then?”
“More than you know,” he said and sighed, sliding back into her with a relieved, sinking feeling.
He sank to the bottom of her spirit and fell asleep almost instantly. When he was completely settled, Miranda turned around and walked back to Gin, who was waiting on the road.
“Come on.” She grinned, sliding onto his back. “Let’s go home.”
“I thought we’d never leave,” Gin sighed, loping back toward the citadel where the other Spiritualist waited with Hern, now ringless and bound in chains, to journey with them back to Zarin where, Miranda had the feeling, she’d get a much warmer welcome this time around.
Thank you to Aaron, Matt, Krystina, Steven, Andrea, and everyone who read my books back when they were really terrible. Your feedback got me to where I am today.