At Water's Edge: An Epic Fantasy (The Water Rushes Book 1) by S. McPherson

Author:S. McPherson [McPherson, S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: S McPherson Books
Published: 2015-11-10T05:00:00+00:00

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It’s odd. Here I am in a sea of strangers and I cannot recall a time I’ve felt more at home. This is by far the best Christmas I have had since my parents passed, and possibly the most I’ve eaten since as well.

After indulging ourselves at dinner, everyone sprawls out around the lounge. Some are on the floor or on the settee, some still sit at the table telling stories and downing mulled wine and children cavort outside, remaining visible through the open doors. I, along with Gavin, Deshilly and Milo, am curled up on an armchair trying to fight off the inevitable turkey fatigue.

‘Tempt you with another mince pie?’ Mrs Thor – who I have now learnt is named Samantha – asks, offering a tray. We all groan in harmonious distaste, Deshilly going so far as to hurl a cushion at Mrs Thor’s head. ‘You realise it’s only the ninth hour. Which one of us is still a teenager?’ she tuts as she continues on her mince pie rounds. Ninth hour, meaning nine o’clock; I am really starting to adapt to here.

‘She’s right you know,’ Milo mumbles from under his arm slung over his face. ‘We’re weak.’ He sits up, rubbing his hands together. ‘Walk, anyone?’

‘Not in this life.’ Deshilly buries her face in the arm of her seat.

‘Count me out,’ Gavin grumbles from his cushion cocoon, rubbing his protruding tummy, his freckled face flushed from eating too much.

‘Come on D...Lex,’ Milo quickly amends, and I stifle a giggle.

‘Have fun.’ I wave lazily, not bothering to lift my head.

‘Nice try.’ Milo grabs my hand, lifting me up and flinging me over his shoulder.

‘I’m going to be sick,’ I squeal, kicking my feet wildly.

Milo laughs. ‘We’re going for a walk,’ he calls to everyone.

They all cackle appropriately as I kick and flail hysterically.

Once outside, Milo puts me down on the doorstep, handing me my shoes and coat and picks up a lantern resting by the door. It’s much colder than earlier and he smuggles out some relative’s scarves and gloves as well. I graciously accept.

‘Uncle Medylau’s quite a character,’ I say.

‘He is,’ Milo agrees, tying up his boot laces. ‘He’s a premoniter you know?’ He brushes off his hands and gets to his feet.

‘Really? I wonder if he could tell me my future.’

‘Premonitions don’t really work that way.’ Milo extends his hand to me. I take it shyly as he pulls me to my feet. ‘Something suddenly just happens, against their control, and they see something.’

I barely listen to him, captivated by the movement of his lips, the flash of his teeth, the flicker of moonlight in his eyes. Every part of me stands to attention, hungry to get as close to him as possible and I’m gloriously aware of his hand still wrapped around mine. Kiss me! Kiss me! Kiss me!

Seeming to have read my mind, Milo gently strokes my cheek. He smiles ever so slightly then leans in and does indeed kiss me. He starts slowly, then seeming to crave me as much as I do him, becomes more ferocious.

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