‘I’m sorry Ris. I tried to get to her, but—’ Finlyr says, eyes meeting mine.
‘We’ll rescue her, Fin,’ I tell him surveying the approach to Biba in the bird’s nest.
‘Did Adarna do that?’ Hanan asks, pointing at Finlyr’s strange skin.
‘Who?’ I ask, turning to Hanan, who hovers awkwardly at the edge of the group.
‘The bird, Adarna. Her Majesty’s Desire.’ We all look at her and her face becomes strained. ‘Holy Aistra, this is what you came for.’
Hanan winces in pain and clutches her thigh. She leans against the rock pillar and pulls up her skirt. She meets my eye. ‘It burns, Ris.’
I examine her mark gently. ‘What should we do?’
‘Don’t let her have it. If she wants Adarna, it’s dangerous. She’ll use any power she can get,’ Hanan insists. She pulls me close to her. ‘She wants to use the dead.’
The mark burns brighter, like embers in a fire, and illuminates the cave around us. I notice the stone we’re crouching behind. There’s something unnatural about it, like it’s sculpted.
‘What is that?’ I ask, standing up and examining the rock.
‘What are you doing? Adarna will see you,’ Sinigang hisses, clawing at my clothes.
It’s not a stone carved by nature. It’s a statue of a human figure. I look at its hands, held up in surrender. I focus on its face, to find some hope of peace, of finality, as I crawl towards the same fate. It feels familiar. There’s such fear and loneliness there. I look closely, trying to breathe colour and life into the figure.
Oh, my love. It can’t be.
‘Not statues,’ I whisper. ‘Sailors.’
It’s him. Larkin.
I touch his face. Or the sign and semblance of it. I move close, as close as I can, putting my body against him. He’s so cold, it’s disgustingwhen I feel him on my skin, but I won’t flinch. I’ve wanted this for so long. I’ve had dreams of him returning to me, crawling out of the sea and straight into my arms. Made of shell, of seaweed, barnacles, and driftwood. He would become human again as we touched, and when I kissed him, he would pour out the salt water. It would leave his body, and his mouth would be clear for him to say my name.
‘He didn’t drown,’ Finlyr says quietly. ‘I’m sorry, Ris. I had no idea he’d made it down here.’
When Larkin left for that last voyage, he sang an old sailor ditty, rocking baby Biba in his arms:
‘Come, little one, it’s time to part
The waves lull you asleep
Behold the beating of my heart
Forever yours to keep’
He placed a kiss on her forehead as he lay her down. There is a moment when every guardian will put down a child and perhaps never hold them again. We didn’t know that was the last time.
‘It’s not your fault, Fin,’ I tell him, turning away from Larkin. I cup Finlyr’s face in my hands and kiss him. His lips are cold and unmoving.
Adarna begins to sing again: a cacophony that vibrates around the cave. I can feel myself slipping under. I have my answers, a cold comfort. I fall to my knees, the pain of the rocks cutting through my skin a welcome relief.
‘Ris, stay with me,’ Finlyr says distantly. He’s beside me, trying to keep me upright, supporting my weight. He says my name over and over again, and I can barely feel the tears sliding down my cheek.
I think about Biba, so close, and yet it feels like she could be back in Paranish. I can’t close the distance, no matter how much I will my limbs to move, to make their way to her. I have failed her again, asI have done so many times since she came into this world. I regret every moment I couldn’t protect her, especially from my own fear. It’s no use though. I slip away, limbs tightening, will bending to that of the bird’s song:Wouldn’t it be sweeter to sleep?
I watch the skin of my arms take on a strange sheen, pale and smooth and unyielding. It’s cold to the touch, and I feel no sensation. There’s Larkin’s stone form; shock and despondency etched on his face. To be reunited simply to atrophy from the outside to our cores. I can’t believe we’ve made it this far only to fail now. It’s so close I can almost taste freedom. All my schemes and sacrifices to keep Biba safe were for nothing.
chapter fifty-nine
hanan
