Page 65 of Florescentia

“Should we say some words?” Maxim suggested.

“I suppose it would be proper,” I muttered, still surveying the body.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

The task was somehow more daunting, now that the opportunity had been presented to me. One thing people didn’t consider in their wills was logistics. I supposed we’d get it done, but did I have the stomach to actually send him off?

My brother and I settled in, taking in the map of stars peeking through infrequent clouds. The fog was like a separate horizon, concealing the waters below.

I cleared my mind, then my throat.

“A lot of people see things that are different, and they grimace,” I started, looking up at my brother before my gaze lowered to my hands as I touched Dorian’s. They were just as cold as when I’d last held them. “My natural brain knows there’s some biological explanation for why people flee from change, from unfamiliarity. But not Dorian. Never him. He ran headfirst into any enigma.” I rubbed my thumb against his, half expecting his hand to close around mine. “When you don’t limit your worldview, possibilities appear as plentiful as wild thyme. His only regret would be not exploring them all. Now, I hope, he can. An eternity to discover, and I may join you someday, and you will burn brighter than any star while telling me all about the wondrous things you’ve been up to.”

I looked to Maxim. He smiled. Possibly the glistening of his eyes meant he knew my words were true.

I laughed; I couldn’t help it. A self-deprecating laugh as the wind wiped my tears.

“Are you ready?” My brother cast his eyes over the horizon.

With a nod, I closed the lid, stealing one more look at Dorian’s death mask before latching it shut.

I’ll fix this, I have to.

With a heavy, heel-digging heave, we rolled the funeral cart off the ledge.

Mere seconds elapsed between its disappearance and then the splash that melted with the clash of high tide.

Was it a risk to look?

Glancing over the edge, I knew it was just to confirm he was gone, for closure.

The waters lapped against rocks, not even the shore in sight. Dorian was taken by the tide. He would be in safe hands now.

A small, whispering voice called for me to join him. It took only thirty seconds to make a secession, three seconds to act on it.

Not today, I decided.

I would see him soon.

Chapter Nineteen

The Eclipse

Would she jump from the cliff if the pull was consistent enough, like an aching wound that ate you from the inside out? I knew she felt it, but it was a matter of when, not if.

My theory was that all people felt the pull, some stronger than others. Infinitely curious, finite capabilities to know. Her pull came from her other half, the one not from this world. It was only a matter of time before she acted on it, as long as I could guide her way to the end.

The silt created by the friction of water crashing against rock was our only barrier. I sulked in the depths of the dark sea, waiting.

While their conversation was out of reach, the emotional fallout was as potent as the salt in the sea. It was heavy, tension wound up tight. A hardy meal for surrounding shadows.

I pulled myself up the wall of the underwater drop-off. Digging my claws into the kelp, the sand, anchoring myself on the cliff ledge under the sea-foam surface, only the waves between us.

I was taken by surprise when a large object’s shadow thrust off the ledge above, nose-diving straight for me.

A foamy storm burst through the surface, breaking the object’s fall for its final descent.

One end of the wooden box hit the rocks, then settled. Muted creaks and scrapes as the casket pushed along, phantom pallbearers carrying it toward the underwater barrier ledge. The detached cart fell more slowly, lighter now that it was rid of the heavy casket. They both sank deeper into the abyss, their final descent only the tide could determine.