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Chapter 20
Then
I didn’t tell my mother where I was going when I slipped out the front door four weeks after the funeral. She didn’t ask. I had turned over every possibility in my mind, followed every thought to a dead end. I didn’t want to admit what I knew was true.
That my father hadn’t fallen.
Gormill Road was buzzing with movement. Filthy, patched cloaks billowed behind Inkwell’s residents. The harbor opened in front of me, the salty air hitting my face the same time the sun broke over the wall.
The harbor only coated my tongue with bitterness now. After Larka died, I could sit on the waterfront and go numb. Now, it was forever frozen in my mind as a synonym for death. If I stared too long, I’d fall back to those days, Larka’s screams, Da’s empty eyes–
Snap out of it.I had to stay focused. There was no time to relive those nightmares while I was in the middle of another one. I trudged across the waterfront, the sun beating on the wild hair I’d braided back. The cliffs loomed in the distance, towering over the harbor like a reaper.
He had been wearing his cloak when he left. And it was gone when he was pulled to shore. I repeated it to myself so many times that the words started to lose meaning. The Cliffs of Malarrey grew closer, my legs already protesting at the incline. The same incline Da had walked a few weeks ago.
The wind rustled the thick grass on the plateau of the cliff, the noise of the city far behind, nothing but the waves and the breeze and the gulls. I stood facing the water, the waves crashing over the breakwall furiously, the waters of the harbor remaining relatively calm. I could see the entire city from here, all of the rich and all of the poor falling beneath a single gaze.
I inched toward the edge of the cliff, my heartbeat quickening. Jagged rocks stared up at me from their bed of seawater, momentarily hidden by the waves before emerging as the water sluiced off. I lowered myself to lay on my stomach, my face hanging over the cliff as I ignored the instincts to jump back.
I let one arm hang over the edge, the feeling turning my stomach but not unwelcome. It could all be over right now…the pain, the longing, theguilt.I could slide my body off this edge and be done with it. A fisherman could pull me to shore and I’d be laid to rest next to my Da. No more strife, struggle, or suffering.
I slid the other arm over the cliff. The waves smashed up against the cliff’s face, angrily spraying saltwater through the air as my fingers traced the jagged wall. My eyes closed of their own accord and I relished the feeling of being on the precipice of the ether. I inched forward, my chest and shoulders now hanging above the rocks. Just a few more inches.
Hands closed around my ankles and yanked me back. I quickly flipped over and–
“Don‘t,” Calomyr said, his breath ragged, his eyes wide. His body rose and fell with his deep panting, a sheen of sweat on his brow.
“What thefuckare you doing?!” I yelled in his face, his body still crouched over mine.
“Please don’t,” he said, just above a whisper, the silken voice running over my skin.
“Don’twhat?”
“Don’t do what you were about to do.” He looked behind me as he said it, to the harbor and the sea beyond.
“Why does it matter to you?” I began to rise, his mismatched eyes following me. I had meant to turn back to the view, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from his.
“You just can’t,” he objected, reaching out a hand. I stepped back, already dangerously close to the cliff’s edge. The relief that lay just beyond the rocks below called to me, beckoned me to leap. “Petra, the world needs you here.”
“It was bad enough when you were in Inkwell. Now I’m on the other side of the city and you’re here. What the fuck?”
“I had some…business to attend to.” He looked away.
I raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “Business to attend to. Okay,” I said sarcastically, cringing at the cliché. Our eyes met again and locked in place until I finally willed myself to turn toward the sea.
“What are you doing here?” he asked quietly. If I were lucky, I could jump and drag him down with me.
“I have my own business to attend to, thank you.”
“Are you going to jump?” His voice remained small. I didn’t answer. “Are you looking for something?” Something in his tone made me turn to him. I squinted my eyes, scanning his face.
“Why are you asking me that?”
I hadn’t realized that he was moving toward me until his face was mere inches from mine. He smelled of wood smoke and cedar, the richness of his scent matching his voice. I was stuck between death and Calomyr. His eyes bored into mine as I searched his face. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re looking for something.”
I flinched involuntarily, the heat of his body brushing against my cheeks. He was intoxicating, so much so that I had to keep myself from moving to touch him. All I could do was nod weakly as his eyes held me in place.
“You’re looking for his cloak.”
