Chapter 27 #2
I hear the pain and heartache in his voice. I’m afraid to look in his eyes, as I know it would make my decision much more painful.
Amina shakes her head. “I’m so sorry. There are no other options. We searched across three of the greatest libraries in the world, and this—” she gestures to the opened scroll, “—is all we have.”
There’s a sense of knowing in the air. Our minds draw to the same conclusion, but no one has the courage to say it out loud. As if the decision itself will cease to exist if we simply ignore it, keep it tucked away.
If only I had the privilege to ignore such a thing, then my heart would stop breaking into a million tiny pieces.
This decision has been haunting me for days, uncertain of what I’ll do once it’s presented to me, and now that it’s finally here, I know what should be done.
The pain and sorrow I feel tell me I’m doing the right thing, as only the correct choice would cause such emotions to arise.
“I think we all know what must be done,” I announce, my voice hoarse.
I look at their faces, tears glistening in my eyes. There’s no point in hiding my fear and sadness from them, but I soon see there is not a single dry eye around me.
Grandad reaches for my hand after wiping his wet cheeks. “You don’t need to decide right this moment, Thena.”
“Tomorrow, then?” I ask, knowing we can’t put this off forever.
He nods, a painful smile on his face. “If that’s what you’d like.”
The next morning, I wake with a raging headache—the kind that only comes after a night of heavy drinking. I’m not the only one who stayed up all night drinking to oblivion.
With all five of us combined, we emptied three bottles of wine and two bottles of whiskey. I know I’m not the only one suffering to get themselves up this morning.
Our plans for the day are simple: enjoy a sunny day on the beach and watch the sunset out on the hill. But the day ahead isn’t going to be as simple as it seems, not for any of us.
For the most part, I enjoy the day. I start by swimming in the cold Bristol Channel waters, eating a lavish picnic made by Amina and Henry, then lose several rounds of poker on the sand.
During our time of fun, I laugh along to their stories of grand adventures and expeditions gone wrong, and mock-shock upon hearing the sorts of mischief the others have engaged in.
For the first time in weeks, I shut my inner voice out and live this day only blissfully content, nothing else. Now that I’ve made my decision, I know I must act soon before I change my mind or before another threat emerges.
Richmond may be gone, but we don’t know who else is aware of the artifact’s existence and who may be searching for us.
As I stare out into the channel, the afternoon sun above my head, I stand ankle-deep in the water, unbothered by the increasing wetness of the hem of my dress.
I hear someone approaching from behind, standing beside me with their bare feet submerged in the cold water, too.
I don’t need to turn my head to know it’s Amina.
“I hope you’re not here to talk me out of it,” I say, my gaze still looking straight ahead.
“Is that what Gabriel just tried to do?” Amina asks, turning her head around, where Dr. Alarie is now sitting on the beach.
I turn to her, smiling. “No. He knew better than to do that.”
Amina returns the smile and nods. “As do the rest of us.”
She reaches for my hand, and we continue to gaze at the water. There isn’t anything she could say to me that I don’t already know, and she’s aware of that. Instead, we stand like this, letting the comfort of each other’s presence speak for itself.
Eventually, she pulls me into a warm embrace, and in it, I can feel everything—the love, respect, and pride she has for me, but also the appreciation of our friendship.
As we pull away, she gestures over my right shoulder. I turn to find Grandad standing a yard away from us.
“It’ll be fine,” Amina encourages, knowing exactly why I’ve put off speaking to him.
Giving me an encouraging nod, I slowly make my way to him, failing to keep the tears and sorrow from overtaking me. Neither one of us is able to speak.
Instead, we stand side-by-side. My head rests on his shoulder as we look at the horizon, our hands firmly holding onto each other for support. I know I must say something first, but every time I try, my throat clenches.
What can I possibly say that will ease our minds?
“I know I never said this before,” I manage to say, “but thank you for taking me in and being the father I needed.”
I lift my head and look at his profile—his eyes are bright red, tears flowing down his cheeks.
“I said it before,” he stammers in between sobs, “and I will shout it again from the edges of the cliffs. You are my proudest achievement. And being your father is, and always will be, the greatest gift of my life.”
Grandad finally faces me, planting a kiss on the top of my forehead. I feel fallen tears drop on the top of my head. He then pulls me into an all-encompassing embrace, shielding me from the realities of our circumstance—his way of protecting me from the brutal, harsh world one last time.
Glancing to my right, I notice our picnic blanket and basket are gone, including Amina and Dr. Alarie. They must have packed everything up and headed back to the cottage, leaving only one other person for me to say goodbye to.
Breaking away, I find Henry not too far from us, waiting patiently for his turn. Grandad, following my gaze, looks at me with a prideful smile. “I can see how much you love each other. I should have known you two would have made a magnificent pair.”
I try not to weep at his word choice. Would have. Yes, we would have been wonderful together. We could have had a beautiful life.
Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve.
“Please look after him for me,” I implore when our eyes lock.
“I will. Don’t worry,” Grandad assures me.
After giving me one last kiss on the top of my head, he heads back to the cottage with the others.
Taking a deep breath, I walk over to Henry.
Once he is within my grasp, I wrap my arms around his torso, not wanting to ever let go. Wrapping his arms around me, he pulls me closer to him, nestling me to his body. Closing my eyes, I inhale his scent of mint and cedarwood—the smell of home.
If only I had the power to stop time, I would freeze this moment forever.
There’s so much I want to say to him. But there’s nothing I could say that could make up for what we’ll miss out on, like getting married and growing old together.
No, there is no point in thinking of what could have happened.
Instead, it’s best to appreciate the time we have now.
Henry places a hand under my chin, lifting my head to meet his gaze.
We move closer until our lips finally touch.
The kiss starts softly, wanting to savor every movement and taste, until we realize this is our last kiss, and I sure as hell will make it the kiss of a lifetime.
He cups my face in his hands, deepening the kiss.
While I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing closer.
My heart thumps against my chest, and every ounce of my body comes alive with his touch.
I don’t know if I’m breathing, but I don’t dare stop.
We finally break away once enough tears have soaked our cheeks. They’re as much his as they are mine.
I wipe away his tears with my shaky hands, gazing into his red-rimmed eyes. Henry reaches into his pocket for his handkerchief, slowly drying mine, then plants a long kiss on my forehead.
“I love you, Clara Fairfax,” he says. “And I always will.”
“And I love you, Henry Ashford.”
“I just wish you could live the very life you deserve.”
I smile at him, running my hand through his curly hair. “I like to think we are put on this earth for a reason, and I truly believe this is mine.”
He nods, understanding why I must do this, but still despises it. “The world will know who you are and what you did. I will ensure it does.”
I smile at the determination on his face, as I know his promises are never empty.
“Promise me one thing? Look after Grandad for me,” I ask, needing to know they will take care of each other after all of this is over. I feel immense relief after he assures me he will.
As the sun starts setting closer to the horizon, I know it is almost time. Hand in hand, we make our way back toward the cottage. Time moves in a blur as soon as I step back inside.
Everyone moves quickly—and silently—around me, preparing for our next task. I stand in the kitchen, coming to terms with my decision, when I feel a hand settle on my shoulder—I know it is time.
Together we make our way outside, walking a few yards to the hill that overlooks the beach and the channel. We all take a seat at the top, the Eudaemon chest resting right beside me.
In peaceful silence, we watch as the sun creeps closer to the horizon. The sky turns a deep plum color with hues of pink and orange.
When the bottom edge of the sun sets, I reach for the dagger. Tears fill my eyes once more, blurring my vision. But that doesn’t prevent me from dragging the sharp edge of the blade across my palm, dark red blood pooling out.
Unable to meet anyone’s eyes, I watch as the sun disappears behind the choppy waters of the channel.
Then I place my bleeding palm onto the chest.