I feel evil. Truly evil.
Because only an evil man would take part in these traditions we have.
Jeyk and Mitchell come up beside me as we leave, flanking me as the people part, giving us a path back to my boat. The good thing about being the last to arrive is that we are the first to go.
But it’s Clara, waiting for me in her black dress and veil on the deck of the boat, who puts my upside-down world back into some kind of order.
“How did she get here?”
I’m mostly talking to myself when I say this, but Mitchell answers. “I threatened those fucking Matrons. Told them they’dall be kicked out on their asses, freeloading days over for good, if they didn’t have her waiting on this boat when you got here.”
And despite everything that has happened in the last twenty-four hours, I smile.
Because Clara Birch is truly the only way I will get through the rest of this day.
I climb up onto the boat and Clara falls into my arms sobbing and apologizing at the same time. “Oh, Finn. I’m so sorry. I’m so,sosorry.”
I hold on to her. Tight. Closing my eyes and letting out a sigh as we stand there, in front of the whole fucking city—letting them get a good long look at our grief—and forget about everything but her.
I just want to stay here like this. Capture this moment and hold it prisoner.
It’s my father’s funeral, which should be one of the very worst days of my life, but this moment right after is gonna stick with me. Because I know in my heart this is as good as it gets. My happiness peaked yesterday afternoon when I was dragging my fingertips up and down Clara’s naked thigh after our tryst and the slipping started the moment she and I parted. We didn’t know that the best moments were now behind us. That we had just lived through the good ol’ days.
But I understand this now. It’s never going to be this easy again. It’s never going to be this good again. It’s just going to get worse from here and if I don’t appreciate every second of every day as the fall from grace happens, then I won’t have anything left in the end. Not even the memories.
So I hold on to her. Tight. Keeping my eyes closed as the whole city watches our descent into despair.
She pulls back first, not saying anything. Just takes my hand and pulls me into the shade of the canopy positioned over the couches.
We sit while Mitchell and Jeyk busy themselves with the captain to give us some privacy and then start the journey back up the canal to the Extraction District.
“Thanks for coming.”
Clara lays a hand on my face, staring straight into my eyes. “Of course I came.”
This is when I notice that she’s…displaying. “Clara! Your hands!”
She pulls her hand back from my face and looks at both of them the way one might look at something curious. Her spark was never magnificent. Only her fingertips displayed on her first Choosing night. But over the course of the rest of the Choosings the spark inside her grew and matured. It often happens this way for Little Sisters. And by the time the top ten are Chosen, most, if not all of them, display spark in a new way on Extraction Night itself.
It happened this way for Clara too. Little markings—symbols, kind of—started to appear on her hands. First, her palms. Then the backs of her hands. Then her wrists, and finally, on Imogen’s Extraction night, when all nine Spark Maidens were still here with us, the spark inside Clara Birch leaked out as light all the way up to her elbows.
Since then, she’s lost most of it. Which is also common, since Maidens-in-Waiting don’t have to practice their spark, as they are not meant to go into the tower.
She makes little spark drawings in the air sometimes. Or traces a finger across my skin, leaving a trail of spark behind. But the symbols… it’s been years since I’ve seen the symbols.
Clara snaps out of the trance the spark cast over her and huffs. “Well. Look at that.” And then, just as quick as it appeared, the spark fades until it goes out completely.
I suddenly have a keen interest in her spark and I want to ask her about it. About those symbols, specifically. But the timing is so wrong. So instead I say, “How is Haryet?—”
But Clara pulls me into a hug before I can finish, whispering into my ear. “Don’t think about tonight. Not yet. We only have room for this right now, so don’t think about tonight.”
Tonight. It’s so close.
And we just did this last year and it hasn’t even had a chance to feel like a long time ago yet. Not when there’s supposed to be an entire decade of time between the tolling bells.
But I take her advice and I don’t think about anything. I just sit and hold Clara in my arms as she holds me back, and I push the sight of her spark symbols, as well as the new anger and evil inside me, away as we float back up the canal.
When we arrive at the Extraction Tower, the four of us disembark, but then I turn to Mitchell and Jeyk. I’m gonna put them off and they are going to object because that’s their job now—to keep me focused and on task as I fully integrate into my new role as Extraction Master. So I put up a hand to stop their objections before I speak. “I know we have a lot to do, but… give me one hour, OK?”
