Heart Of Atlantis

little bit like peace.
    “I’ve never been happier,” she was able to tell him honestly. “But what happened? How did you finally change back? I thought you’d be a tiger forever.”
    “It wasn’t easy,” he said, his expression strained. “Part of me—the biggest part of me—never wanted to come back. I’ve seen too much, Quinn. Done too much, in the name of the rebellion. I think that when my body was injured so badly, my spirit decided it was time to retreat.”
    “But you came back,” she said, fiercely glad it was true. “You were still a tiger when you arrived, but now—”
    Jack started walking, and she matched her pace to his long strides as they roamed together through the gardens. “Now I’m human again. Mostly. I came back because the portal arrived and told us you were in danger.”
    He left it at that, and she let that part of it go. She would have done the same for him. She needed to know the rest, though.
    “When did you decide to shift? How? I tried so hard in Japan to help you find your way back. I’m sorry I failed.” She walked a little faster, determined not to let him see the tears forming in her eyes.
    “You did help,” he said gently, touching her arm. “But this was something I needed to do on my own. I think it was the aftermath of the battle, here in Atlantis, realizing that if an eleven-thousand-year-old lost continent could find its way, then so could a relatively young tiger shifter.”
    He fell quiet, and when she realized he wouldn’t say anything else about it, their talk continued to less personal subjects. They walked in the gardens, circling under and around the fantastical trees and fountains, engrossed in catching up and content with the familiar pleasure of spending time together. All the while, however, Quinn had the bittersweet feeling that the conversation was a prelude to good-bye.
    “I’m ready to move on and do something else,” Jack finally said, when their talk of Atlantis and the world had died down. “The next group of rebel leaders has already stepped into our shoes, and I don’t want to go back to that life anyway. I think this time I’ll try seeing the world without the need to take charge and save the day. I have an uncle in Florida I’ve been meaning to visit for a few years. He lives in a town named Dead End, can you believe it?”
    Quinn laughed. “Sounds interesting.”
    “Probably not, but that’s what I’m looking for right now. Someplace
not
interesting.” He plucked a flower off an absurdly round purple bush and handed it to her.
    “You’ll always be a hero, Jack,” she said. “No matter where you go. That’s who you are, and you can’t change that.”
    His eyes darkened, and just for a moment, it was the tiger looking out at her, and not the man. “I don’t know if that’s still true, Quinn. I need time to learn who I am without the battles and the blood and the killing.”
    “I’m always here if you need me,” she said. “You know that, right?”
    He hugged her, hard, and then let go, and she felt a moment of deep sadness, as if he’d already gone.
    “Quinn, I . . . If you ever need me—”
    “I know,” she said, brushing the tears off her face with the back of her hand. “I know. Same goes.”
    She reached out, one final time, to try to sense his emotions as she told him she loved him and she wished him well, and they both promised to keep in touch.
    She felt it in him, as in her own heart, that they both doubted they would.
    They didn’t say good-bye this time. Once had been enough.
    She watched him walk away, down toward the shore where he’d said a friend with a boat was waiting, and she finally let the tears fall freely.
    “Good luck, Jack. I love you, too.”
    Alaric walked up behind her and pulled her into his arms. She rested her head on the hard muscles of his chest and watched Jack disappear into the noise and chaos of the people renovating the Atlantean port, so long unused.
    “He deserves someone who loves him the way I love you,” she said through her tears.
    “He will find her,” Alaric said. “I have a very strong feeling about that tiger. He’s going to have an interesting life.”
    “Oh, boy. I’m not sure that’s a good prediction,” Quinn said, laughing a little. “Our lives have been far too interesting already.”
    “It’s an Atlantean curse, you know. May you live in interesting times,” Alaric said. “And so true of the Atlantean family who adopted Faust. When