Stavanger Bay So we built a fortress of red bricks and ladders

erzulie remained pressed to rosalyn's side as they slowly made their way back along the beach. her wife had come so far and found herself here. the obsidian had ranged the same and had lost herself in the season. 
guilt ravaged her mind. she should have been here. she should have listened to sobo and come back the next day — she could not keep herself from assuming the blame for this. the tanzanite was not herself. she should not have been alone.
it was another thing with which she must live.
her mind raced, to medicines, to her own knowledge which was both immediate and rudimentary. erzulie was able to clean and wrap a wound during battle, but she — was there a plant she might find for rosalyn?
she began to sing a light french song, one of those she had put on for her children in their infancy. and she forced herself not to weep. her mate was here. they would go home. erzulie clung to those truths.