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Flames sputter and swirl, the auburn streaks so vivid that I forget I’m looking into his eyes and not the fire pit. He catches my eye and offers me a smile. It’s softer, without his usual crooked disclosure of faultless teeth, and the warmth of it fits seamlessly with the peaceful air that has fallen over our quaint, little camp with Lindsey and Devin retiring to their sleeping bag for the evening. I return the smile reflexively, but it must still touch my eyes because his face splits into a grin, effectively breaking the calm with the way my heart trips over itself at the sight. Damn him.
He chuckles low and deep, almost knowingly, and rises to his feet. I start to follow suit out of habit but change my mind, choosing instead to see what he is up to before committing. He walks away from camp toward Lumvér Caelum until his footfalls can no longer be heard over the crackle of the fire. Eventually, he reaches the water’s edge and, rather than continuing out onto the surface, he stops—much to my surprise. I know how fond he is of pacing about with the universe at his feet.
“Kyelan,” he calls, hushed.
Silhouetted in the starlight, he glances at me over his shoulder, inclining his head towards the pond to say that I should join him. I catch the shimmer of his grin intermingled with the shadows playing across the sharp plains of his face. Along with my curiosity, I rise, making my way to him. I am halfway to the bank when he dives fully clothed into the water with no preamble whatsoever, shattering the Mirror of Stars into a thousand rippling pieces. Laughter bubbles from me as he crashes up through the surface, shaking water from his hair and greeting me with chuckles of his own. “I want to show you something,” he says with another tilt of his head.
Rolling my eyes, I feign exasperation, but my smile betrays me. Kicking off my shoes and socks, I steel myself for an icy embrace as I jump far less elegantly than he into the pond. The water is both surprisingly and delightfully warm. I recover from immersion quickly, but I have to tread water to remain upright alongside Calvin, who is standing up to his shoulders. He quirks a brow, his smug expression alerting me to the fact that he, too, is acknowledging our height difference, and I splash him full force in the face in childish retaliation. He laughs off my attack but does not reciprocate. “We must be still,” he says, his voice returning to the softness that had fallen between us at the campfire.
We backtrack a foot or so until the tips of my toes make purchase with the smooth rocks lining the pond floor and stand quietly as the churning water settles around us. “Exhale fully and slip beneath the surface gently. We are going to lie down.”
Ignoring my puzzled expression, he spares me no further explanation as he slips underwater with barely more than a ripple and the bubbles of his last remaining breath. Shrugging to myself, I do as I’m told, following him down into the shimmering blackness. Once fully submerged, he finds my hand and pulls me down until my back makes fragile contact with stone. I expel what little oxygen I have left from my lungs and force myself to relax until my body sinks naturally, resting effortlessly along slippery stone by Calvin’s side. I turn to look at him in the half dark. Streaks of light bound across his face as the water above us wrinkles, slowly finding peace again after a few seconds. I cannot see him clearly enough to read his expression.
Look up, he instructs quietly, filling my mind with the heat of his presence.
I do.
As the last ripple smooths itself out, my eyes find new focus, and instead of seeing the constellations above, my sight is met by our ghostly reflections from underneath the surface. It looks as if we are lying among the stars.
Magnificent, is it not? He knowingly echoes the same words he uttered upon my first arrival to Téram Solé, and I can almost physically feel the smirk accompanying this thoughts.
I am too afraid of choking to risk a smile, but I nod gently and extend the warmth I feel along the mental link we share. More bold than I, his blurry reflection beams down at me in response.
My chest tightens suddenly—burning in its protest for oxygen-—bringing with it an urgency that interrupts my tranquility and lures me back to the surface. Calvin joins me seconds later. Catching our breath with our hair matted haphazardly and droplets streaking our faces, we exchange grins before setting our sights skyward once more in companionable silence.
Unexpectedly but not shockingly, a star flits halfway across our field of view before vanishing. Immediately, I can’t help but wonder if he did it on purpose, but even I know that’s beyond his capabilities. I glance at him instinctively anyway. He stands stone-still, his face upturned, bathed in moonlight, and his eyes closed as if he is making a wish. I stopped wishing years ago—not just on shooting stars, but on dandelions, 11:11, hell even birthday candles—but for a brief moment, I wonder what on earth I would wish for if I still did. I can’t decide, so instead I close my eyes and wish that whatever desires this strange boy has, this boy who can craft the world in his hands with a nothing more than a thought, will come true. As he slowly opens his eyes and smiles down at me once again, I really, really hope that they do.