Deep Waters

flush of pleasure rose in his thin face. "Hey, that's right. You're no longer the only guy in the world who knows the meaning of the words. I understand them, too."
    "Next time, I'll start teaching you how to use Tal Kek Chara." Elias rose from the mat. "There are a lot of things to learn. It's not just a weapon and a lost language. It's a philosophy. A way of looking at the world."
    Newlin scrambled to his feet. "It has to do with that stuff about water, right?""It all goes together." Elias went up the porch steps. "But that's enough instruction for now. Time to open the shops. I'll get Otis and his travel cage. We'll give you a lift to the pier."
    "Yeah. Sure. Thanks." Newlin hesitated. "Hey, Elias?"
    Elias paused at the door. "Yes?"
    "Me and Arlene are going to get married in a couple of weeks. I was, like, wondering if you'll come to the wedding. It's not going to be a big deal or anything. But Charity and Bea and Radiance are going to have a party on the pier afterward."
    Elias took his hand from the doorknob and turned to gaze thoughtfully at Newlin. "You and Arlene are going to get married?"
    "Well, you know how it is." Newlin gave him a bashful grin. "We love each other, and we've both got jobs, and Arlene's through with that silly Voyager stuff, so we figured there was no reason not to get married."
    "No," Elias said. "There's no reason not to get married. I'll be at your wedding."
    Newlin looked pleased. "Okay. That's great."
    Elias went on into the house to collect Otis and the travel cage.
    No reason not to get married. The words had the ring of a mantra. He tried them out on Otis to hear how they sounded when he said them aloud.
    "No reason not to get married, Otis."
    Otis snorted as he stepped onto Elias's arm and allowed himself to be settled on the travel cage perch.
    "Not you and me, Otis." Elias closed the door of the cage. "I was talking about Charity and me. But what if she doesn't go along with the idea? It wasn't easy talking her into moving in here. Something tells me she'll panic if I ask her to marry me."
    "Heh, heh, heh."
    "She's not sure of me, you see," Elias explained as he carried Otis's cage to the door. "And I don't know how to make her sure. Hell, the last thing I want to do is find myself in the kind of mess Loftus found himself in last year. Something tells me I wouldn't handle it nearly as well as he did."
    Charity pushed aside the beaded curtain that hung in the doorway of Nails by Radiance and stepped into the small shop. She came face to face with Jim Morrison and the Doors. The scowling members of the band brooded darkly down from a glossy six-foot poster that hung on the wall.
    The remaining walls of the shop were hung with tie-dyed draperies and Day-Glo art. The scent of incense wafted through the air.
    "Radiance?"
    "Hi, Charity. Be with you in a second." Radiance, garbed in a loose patchwork gown, did not look up from her work. She was seated in a swivel chair in front of the narrow manicure table watching her client's nails dry beneath a special lamp.
    "No rush." Charity recognized the woman whose hands were receiving Radiance's full attention. "Good morning, Irene. By the way, that new self-help book that you ordered has arrived."
    "Why Self Help Books Can't Help? Good. I've been waiting for it." Irene Hennessey, a pleasant woman in her early fifties, looked up and smiled. "I'll stop by and pick it up after I finish here."
    "Be careful when you do." Radiance frowned. "Even though I'm baking these nails, you know I don't want anyone using their hands very much for at least a half hour after I've finished."
    "Don't worry," Charity said smoothly. "Newlin or I will make sure Irene doesn't ruin her new nails when she picks up the book." She walked closer to the work table and looked down at Irene's long, gleaming nails. "Nice color."
    "I call it Irene's Amethyst," Radiance said. "It's perfect on her, don't you think?"
    "It's great." Charity admired the way the unusual shade highlighted Irene's delicate coloring. "And I love those little pink squiggly designs."
    "My signature touch," Irene said proudly. "No one else in town has them."
    "Of course not. You know my motto." Radiance sat back in her chair. "Every client gets a unique design or color. I don't mass-produce my art. Okay, Irene, they should be dry. But be careful."
    "I will." Irene examined her nails with a look of pleasure as she rose to her feet. "I think I'll have a latte at Bea's and then pick up my new book. I