Perhaps the great male’s convenience would arise this very night—it had been weeks since their last encounter, and while the respite from such impersonal relations had been a welcome relief, it also made resuming them that much more nerve-wracking. He quickly changed into an exercise brief and made his way to the beach. Little relaxed him faster than an evening swim. Normally he would go nude, but this evening the idea of being exposed held no appeal. As he descended the steps to the beach, hovering lanterns activated, casting a warm, diffuse light down the smooth stone steps and onto the sandy path below. Hastion plunged headfirst into the ocean’s warm, welcoming arms and nearly wept with the joy of it. At last he was home. It had been far too long. He swam as far as one breath would carry him before surfacing and then flipped to his back, observing the shadowed residence as he kicked farther away from the shore. In one dim window, he could see Shelley swaying with a babe in her arms—he was too far away to be able to discern which one, and he certainly couldn’t hear anything, but he knew Shelley was singing softly.
