Ash smiled. “Coby,” he repeated with a nod. His name coming from Ash’s lips made Coby’s energy swirl like a tempest within him, and his gaze dropped, fearing the human would see a truth not even he was willing to recognize. Not yet.

Ash turned to the nurse who handed him a pair of blue medical gloves. He put them on and reached once more for the gauze and some antiseptic, squirting a little on the fabric while Coby carefully tucked his braids behind his ear. Ash’s eyes went wide and he glared at the doctor.

“Why didn’t you treat this when he came in?” he demanded. The wound was deep, not deep enough to warrant stitches, but still bad enough to be bleeding down the side of Coby’s pale face.

The doctor frowned. “It happened after he woke up,” he explained patiently. “He hit his head on one of the trays during his fit.”

Ash stared at him. “His fit.”

The doctor was smart enough to look embarrassed. “Well, you saw him,” he muttered.

Ash clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to snap at the doctor for being so callous and inconsiderate of his own patient. He shook his head and sighed, turning back to Coby whose gaze hadn’t left his face.

“This might sting a little bit,” he warned before pressing it gently to the wound. 

Coby flinched but didn’t move or make any effort to fight Ash off, something that stunned the two medical professionals in the room who had been trying for over thirty minutes to do this one simple task. His only response was a tiny grunt of discomfort, saying nothing while Ash tended to his cut.

In the silence that followed, Abel cleared his throat, shifting forward in his seat slightly. “So,” he started, fidgeting with his hat in his hands, “Ash, I need to ask him some questions about what happened down at the beach.”

Ash gave Coby a questioning look and the boy’s gaze dropped.

“What do you mean?” he asked his father without turning around. “What’s going on down there?”

“There’s four dead bodies,” Abel responded, surprised Ash hadn’t heard by now. “We have a reason to believe Co-Bieasah might have something to do with it.”

Ash’s hands hesitated briefly before he calmly finished applying the two small bandages needed to close the cut. He opened the package for the large overlay bandage and gently secured it over the now cleaned and closed gash. When he was done, he sat down on the bed next to Coby. The boy wouldn’t look up, not even when his braids dropped loose from behind his ear, swinging loose by his face.

“Can you ask him—”

“He can understand you just fine,” Ash said tersely without turning around. He could feel his father flinch behind him.

“Coby,” Ash said softly, his voice unexpectedly hoarse. “Did you kill someone?”

Coby winced, the silent plea in the boy’s voice like a razor to his heart, though he couldn’t fully comprehend why. He could deny the allegations, say he had no idea what they were talking about, that he had gotten injured in some other way. But he knew lying wouldn’t help him. It wouldn’t help him calm his energy, it wouldn’t get him out of this godsforsaken hospital, and it wouldn’t get him to the temple. However, he also couldn’t tell them the full truth of why he was there in the first place. There was too much risk involved with sharing that knowledge. 

Plus, lying was poison to the soul. He was taught to never lie, to be honest but not naive. 

He gripped the cover and said in a soft voice only Ash could hear, “I had to. I had no choice.”

“What do you mean?” Ash asked gently. “Were they after you? Were they the ones that hurt you?”

Coby nodded.

“Why?”

Coby didn’t respond. Abel looked on patiently, waiting for one or both of them to answer him. He obviously hadn’t heard what Coby said. When the silence stretched on for longer than he was comfortable with, he stood and made his way to the end of the bed, standing close to the doctor. The nurse hovered nearby, cleaning up the items used to treat the boy’s wound.

“Son,” he said, his voice firm and full of authority, yet still kind and compassionate. “How old are you?”

Coby didn’t look up. “Nineteen.”

“So you’re a grown man.”

Coby nodded slowly once.

“You know that men must own up to their responsibilities, right? Take accountability for their actions?”

“Yes.”

“Only boys hide when they’re confronted with their mistakes. They even lie to try and get out of trouble.”

Coby’s eyes snapped up, blazing so hot with defiance, Ash stiffened in surprise. 

“I am no child,” he growled. “I do not, ever, lie.”

“Then tell me why you killed those men on the beach.”

Coby sat back, glaring at the Sheriff, his distrust warring with the unusual need to be trusted and believed by Ash, who was obviously the man’s son. Their dark hair, their similar builds, their green eyes and the shape of their mouths had given that away almost immediately. Yet, Ash’s features were smoother, more defined, his jawline a little less square, his nose slightly pointed at the end with a tiny beauty mark resting near one perfectly arched eyebrow.

Their energies were different, as well. The Sheriff wasn’t a cruel man, Coby could tell that right away, but he still couldn’t trust him. His energy may be similar to Ash’s, but it didn’t meld with Coby’s the way Ash’s did. Ash’s energy flowed from him like water, washing into Coby like a gentle tide, soothing and perfect. Coby’s energy, his soul, his body…craved it. It was as though his whole being had found something it didn’t know it was missing and refused to let it go, demanding more, begging for it.

Coby didn’t want to speak to Abel Turner. He was too much like his own father. He meant well, but he knew that if he told the Sheriff the truth, or at least all of it, he would never be allowed to leave and take the sacred item to the temple.

But Ash…he wanted to tell Ash…

His heart stuck in his throat and he turned his gaze on the younger Turner, deciding right then that whatever he said, it would be for his benefit, not the Sheriff’s.

“I had no choice,” he said again to Ash. “They were coming after me and I had to defend myself.”

“Even though you were severely injured?” Abel asked, perplexed. 

“I was healing.”

“Why were they after you?”

Coby’s jaw tightened but he never took his gaze from Ash. “I can’t say.”

Ash’s eyebrow ticked. He understood, even if his father didn’t, as evidenced by the older man’s sigh.

“You don’t know what they wanted from you?”

“I can’t say.”

“Did you know those human men?”

“No.”

“Did the other mermen know them?”

Coby hesitated, his blue eyes still locked on Ash. “I…can’t say…” he said one last time, his voice barely above a whisper.

Abel sighed again, rubbing his temple, his eyes squeezed shut against an oncoming headache. “You can’t say a lot, can you, kid?” he muttered.

<I can say a hell of a lot more than you can, and in far better terms, old man,> he muttered.

Ash snorted, covering his grin with his hand. Abel’s eyes whipped between the two boys.

“What did he say?” he asked his son.

Ash cleared his throat, fighting back the laugh that threatened to explode from his chest. “H-he said he’s really tired and wants to get some rest,” he said smoothly. Coby smiled, even though he knew he should be upset that Ash would lie, even on his behalf…even over something silly and unimportant.

“Fine,” Abel said after a moment. He gave Coby a pointed look as he added, “I’ll be by in the morning to ask you some more questions. In the meantime, please try not to attack any more of the staff here.”

Coby frowned. “I didn’t attack them, I was trying to keep them from touching me.”

“Regardless,” Abel said. “You’re still in bad shape and they’re only here to help you. They might not know everything about Sarathian ways, but they do know how to treat and care for a patient properly, no matter who or what they are. The way you behaved, you could have done yourself more harm than good by reopening those wounds. These people are sworn to help people, to protect them, that’s why they’re here. Without them, you wouldn’t be here at all. Do me a favor and try to show them a bit more respect. You’re going to be here for a little while and all of you need to be able to get along with each other. I would rather you be treated here where you can get the care you need, rather than in the infirmary of the local jail, someplace I can take you in a heartbeat given the circumstances. Am I making myself understood?”

Coby bit the inside of his lip, dropping his gaze to his lap, suddenly mindful of all the bandages, ointments, and threads that covered his body inside and out. The healers really had been diligent in their attempt at saving his life, and they had done a very good job as far as he could tell. His healing energy was still weak, but despite not being able to use it like he needed to, he didn’t feel like his life was in danger any longer. He began to feel ashamed of his earlier behavior, even if he had been justified; the staff had touched his braids, adornments he’d earned and deserved for what he’d sacrificed and suffered in the name of his God. Still, he had to admit Ash was right, they didn’t understand. It didn’t make them right, and it didn’t make him feel any less violated, but he couldn’t hate them for not knowing.

The mention of incarceration also made his skin crawl. Yes, he had killed four men, the reasons were irrelevant. If Sheriff Turner really was a cruel man, he would have hauled Coby off without any remorse, no questions asked and none answered. If professional medical staff hadn’t understood why he had been so upset in their attempts at healing him, occupants of a jailhouse wouldn’t spare a whisper of concern for his outrage. They’d probably beat him up just for the hell of it. Really, in the end, Coby was in the best possible situation he could be in, and he had taken it for granted almost immediately.

Finally, with a resigned sigh, he nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said. He raised his gaze to the doctor and inclined his head slightly, showing deference and respect to the master healer in the facility. “I apologize for my disgraceful behavior, and for any harm I caused.”

“Don’t worry about it,” the doctor said with a relieved smile. “The only real harm you did was to yourself. You may be strong, but you’re still unwell. You couldn’t have hurt my people if you tried.”