The City on the Sea (City on the Sea Series Book 1)

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The City on the Sea (City on the Sea Series Book 1) Page 12

by Heather Carson


  She leaves before I can formulate a response, but I’m too tired to think anyway. I blow out the lantern and curl up onto my bed.

  *

  I dream of a tidal wave of dark gray water rising high above the city and crashing against the wall. There are floating bodies and hunks of twisted metal left when the wave recedes. The sea is a shade of rusted brown. I am deaf and mute as I slowly wade through the destruction of my world. There was nowhere for the bodies to go. They just float on the dirty water staring at me with glassy eyes.

  *

  “Can I have this morning off?” I ask quietly after knocking on Gertrude’s door.

  She waves her hand and grunts. I take it as a yes, and rush from the tavern before anyone else wakes up. I should go see Meghan, but first I need to speak with Jillian and Tordon.

  Jillian is the only person I know who hates the watchmen as much as I do, and I need Tordon to talk with his father. Aegir is the only one I can think of who is strong enough to change things around here. If I can get them on my side, then maybe this will work.

  I force myself to walk slowly down the wharf along with the crowd of early rising fishermen. This plan will take time. Rushing draws attention, but I don’t know how much time I have. If I can at least set things in motion, that will have to be good enough.

  In this sea of gray and brown clothes, I should be invisible. The only watchman out this morning doesn’t even bother to look my way. I don’t know if it’s a trick or if he truly isn’t interested. Still, I lower my head as I pass by.

  Jillian’s shop is boarded up. I haven’t been down this way since before the storm, but she usually stays closed when she has no produce to sell. I don’t stop to check. She’ll be there when I get back, but Aegir’s fishing fleet will sail out soon.

  ‡ Chapter Thirteen ‡

  Tordon gives me a welcoming smile as he finishes securing the bait to the Bara. “What are you doing down here?” he asks.

  “I actually came to speak with you. Do you have time to take a quick walk?” I look around the docks, but no one is paying any attention.

  “Sure.” He wipes his hands on his pants and tosses the line to his youngest brother.

  “Where’s Endre today?” I ask as Birger’s chubby fingers reach for the rope. He’s usually too young to be on the water.

  “He took the Hronn out fishing last night. If he’s not back by the time we leave, then we’ll meet him out there.” Tordon jumps down from the boat. “What’s going on with you?”

  “Not here.” I place a finger over my mouth. He matches my casual pace as we walk down to the end of the dock where the Kolga groans as the waves rock her from side to side.

  “I need your help,” I whisper even though no one can hear us. “And I need your father’s help too.”

  Tordon crosses his arms over his chest. “Does this have something to do with the watchmen breaking into your room last night?”

  My jaw drops. “How did you know about that?”

  “Word travels fast.” He shrugs. “Plus, Lena came to see me last night.”

  “She did?” I try to study his face for more details, but he just nods forcing me to get to the point. Sometimes it’s annoying when you know someone so well you can’t even pretend to misread their signals.

  “Fine,” I sigh. “Yes, it’s about the watchmen. My father left plans for his machine. They forced themselves into my room and took them saying it was too dangerous for me to have.”

  “They are probably right.” He says it calmly, but there is a note of defiance in his voice that is exactly what I was hoping to hear.

  “You know they aren’t right.” I roll my eyes. “And even if they were, what right do they have to take my things? How can they tell me how to live my life? If I’m not hurting anyone, then it’s not their job to intervene. They don’t belong here anyway. We can take care of ourselves.”

  Tordon rubs the stubble on his chin as he studies the sea. “You know, I like this side of you.”

  “What side?” I ask in confusion.

  “The side that wants to stand up for herself.” He smiles. “For too long you never said a word in your own defense. Now it’s like you are finally finding your voice along with your freedom.”

  “I’ve always had a voice,” I say defiantly. “But sometimes staying silent is louder than yelling.”

  “I know that.” He drapes his arm over my shoulders. “So, you want to get rid of the watchmen.” His voice is so soft that it lightly travels on the breeze to my ear.

  “I’m only saying that life would be better without them.” I grin.

  “What’s your plan?” he asks in a conspiratorial tone.

  I check over my shoulder just in case. “We need to get enough people to agree with us first. Then we can cause a huge scene, and maybe even more will join our side. They can’t make all of us disappear at once and there won’t be enough of them to hold us back. We can push them out to sea and make them stay away.”

  Tordon is silent as he processes this all. “You want to stage a mutiny.” He smiles. “It’s possible. Probably stupid, but possible.”

  “Thank you,” I squeal in joy. “But wait, why are you helping me this easily? I figured I’d at least need to beg.”

  “If you don’t remember, we used to do everything together,” he chuckles. A dark cloud passes over the sun and he looks up at the sky. “I also have my own reasons.”

  I want to push him for the explanation but something in his voice tells me it won’t work. I guess there are things I don’t know about him after all.

  “Never mind that.” He guides me back down the dock. “Let me speak with my father today. It’s easier to talk when you’re out on the water where no one can hear you.”

  *

  The boats push away from the docks and drift out to the open sea. A smile won’t leave my face as I slowly walk to Jillian’s shop.

  The stalls are still shuttered when I arrive. She should have opened by now. My knuckles rap against the door and I pray she isn’t sick today.

  The metal groans as the door is unlatched. Shane’s face appears in the crack.

  “We’re closed,” he says in a hoarse voice as he moves to shut the door again.

  “I’m not looking to buy anything.” I place my foot in the way so he can’t block me out. “I need to speak with your sister. Is Jillian here?”

  “No, she isn’t,” he answers impatiently.

  I rub a hand over my eyes. The plan I have isn’t much of one at all, but I need as many people on board as possible if it has a chance to work. “Do you know when she’ll be back?”

  “She isn’t coming back.” He stares at me with such intense fear that my heart reaches out to him.

  “Are you okay? What happened?”

  “You should go now.” He pushes the door harder against my foot.

  “Please,” I beg. “I have to know if she’s okay. Jillian is the only one who understands what I am going through.”

  Calculations play across his face as he studies me, and I breathe a sigh of relief when he finally lets me in.

  The house is in shambles. The plastic tubing that once ran from floor to ceiling with holes carved in for the plants to grow now lies in a broken heap shoved into the corner. On the table is a rotting assortment of decaying leaves and produce.

  “What happened here?” I ask.

  “I tried to sort out what I could salvage,” he explains. “But I’m no good at this stuff. My mother and sister knew about plants, not me.”

  “No.” I spin around to face him. “What happened to this place? Where is Jillian?”

  “I don’t know.” Tears gather in his eyes. “They took her.”

  “Who took her?” I don’t mean to sound as harsh as I do. The boy has clearly been through a lot, but he’s almost as old as I am and the lack of anger for what I know is already the answer is driving me insane.

  He looks down to the table of spoiled food. “It all happened so fast. The da
y of the storm a man was passing through. He asked about the growing system and wanted to know more about it.”

  “Ma said never to share it,” he continues after taking a ragged breath. “She said it was to stay in the family, but Jillian let him in anyway. She was so happy he’d taken an interest in it.”

  “So, the man took her?” As sick as it sounds, I find myself wishing this is the case.

  “No, not him,” he continues tearfully. “He said he was just passing through. When the sirens rang, I boarded up the shop. Then I climbed to the loft to close the storm shutters. The door flew open below me. That’s when the watchmen came.”

  I reach for the table and grip it tightly. The slime of brown rotten lettuce squishes under my fingers. “Why did the watchmen take her?”

  “Probably because she was stupid.” Shane tugs at his ragged hair in frustration but there is no real malice in his words. “She never kept her mouth shut about how much she didn’t like the watchmen and she didn’t listen when Ma told her not to talk about the system.”

  “Why was your mother so adamant on keeping this a secret?” This new piece of information confuses me.

  “Because the watchmen told her to.” He shrugs.

  “Did they destroy this?” I point to the broken piping on the floor. An image of the gear flashes through my mind. Thomas holding it in his hand. Sabotaged.

  “No.” Shane shakes his head and I cling to that word like the last beacon of hope in an endless sea. “I did.”

  “But why?” If he’s just crazy that’s okay. Maybe I am crazy too. Any rational explanation sounds better than the black pit I’m sinking into. Jillian can’t be gone. They can’t take her away like her life didn’t matter.

  “Because it’s not safe.” He looks at me in earnest, willing me to understand. “They forced my mother to retire and they made Jillian disappear. I think the only reason they didn’t take her sooner was because they took a cut of the produce. Now that she’s gone and I don’t know what to do, I’m afraid they’ll take me too. It’s better this way.”

  He’s shaking at the effort of this emotional release and I force myself to soothe him instead of screaming at him to fight back. I know all too well the struggle of carrying a burden that isn’t yours.

  “Your probably right.” I smile and pat his arm reassuringly. “I should go now. You’ve been through a lot.”

  *

  I have to make sure it’s okay. Running on the wharf is maddening. Everyone seems to be going the wrong way. I’m causing a scene pushing through the crowd, but I don’t care if anyone is watching. There’s no point anymore. Let them come and take me away.

  The scream in my throat is begging to be released, but I clench my jaw to keep it in. If all these people would just move. Instead, they are milling about the day like it is any other day. Like their whole world isn’t a lie.

  I finally break free and jump over to the walkway where the houses are, running past the docks to my childhood home. It’s no doubt being cleaned up for a new family to move into. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. The only thing that’s important is to make sure it’s still okay.

  The rocky outcropping is in sight. My legs are burning as I push them harder to get to the edge of the city.

  I don’t collapse when I see it. I don’t scream or fling myself like a banshee over the jagged stones. I should, but there is a sick sense of self-preservation left in me that causes me to freeze in my tracks.

  A group of watchmen are huddled around my father’s machine. They are dismantling it piece by piece. Of course they are. I turn my face away in utter contempt.

  Now that they have the plans there’s no need to wait and see who’s coming to try and fix it. That was it all along, wasn’t it? The plans. If he hadn’t tried to share the plans, to document them in some way, would he still be alive? Would Jillian still be here if she didn’t show her work to the drifter?

  I work my way past the treacherous rocks and slip quietly behind the boulders. My sandals release themselves from my feet. I curl my bare toes into the notches and grab ledges as I begin to climb.

  The cliff face extends dangerously high. My father yelled at me for climbing it as a child. Even though I brought back osprey eggs wrapped delicately in my pocket like precious stones, he made me promise I’d never do it again. I hadn’t until now.

  Now I have no more father. There is nothing left of him. I don’t even have a mother. No matter how crazy she was she didn’t deserve our foolish blame that she’d killed her husband. It was bigger than us all. Bigger than I could ever understand, but I’m going to close my eyes anymore.

  The watchmen aren’t here to protect us. They are controlling us. They sabotaged the machine. They took Jillian. Gods know what else they’ve done that we were too naive to see.

  The rocks slip under my feet and I cry out as I cling to a root coming from the cliff. My breathing is as uneven as the earth pressed under my chest. I manage to pull myself up over the ledge and scoot across the small strip of land until my back is against the wall.

  The wind whips at my face as the waves crash against the rocks beneath the cliff face. There is only the sea before me and the rusted metal behind me. Both things effectively keeping us all in our place.

  I finally let myself cry, cursing the gods and the ocean alike. The voice is not my own. It’s the wail of a thousand sirens, the thundering claps of a raging storm, and when it stops, I am empty.

  Empty and alone on this cliff at the edge of the world staring into the abyss of nothing. Breathe. I force myself to breathe. One inhale and slowly let it out. There is no order to this insanity. Everything is wrong.

  “Are you alright?”

  I scramble back against the wall clutching at the dirt behind me. Calder’s face appears flushed and sweaty above the crest of the cliff. His eyes are round with worry.

  I contemplate kicking him in the head to send him spiraling down to the rocks beneath us. I don’t answer. I just stare. His muscles flex as he lifts his lower body onto the ledge.

  “What are you doing up here?” The anger rolls easily from my scream wrenched throat.

  “I’m not sure.” He crouches in a protective stance with his palms outstretched. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t planning on killing yourself.”

  “Why would you care?” I’m laughing to stop myself from crying. “Would you have preferred to kill me yourself?”

  He rolls his eyes and relaxes his body as if he’s sure there is no threat. Don’t bet on that jerk, I think smugly. I still might kick you off.

  “Why would you think I want to kill you?” he asks calmly as he turns to sit with his back against the wall. I move as far over as I can to keep as much distance between us as possible.

  “Why are you up here?” I glare at him.

  “I saw you run and start to climb. If you’d have jumped off the cliff on my watch, I’d have to explain a lot.” The statement is so emotionless that I’m tempted to jump just to spite him.

  “Well I’m not killing myself.” The sarcasm drips heavily from my tongue. “Why don’t you leave me alone now and get back to destroying my father’s machine?”

  “About that,” he pauses as he looks out over the horizon. “I have something for you, but you need to promise me…”

  “I’m not promising you anything!” I cut him off. “You watchmen are so arrogant sitting there judging us all and taking people away. Taking Jillian and my father away. I don’t trust you for one second. You aren’t here for us.”

  My words rush out like the rising tide and I’m powerless to stop them. “The watchmen killed my father and took my friend. You’ve lied to us. I’m not promising you anything, you sorry excuse for a man.”

  Calder’s face blanches and he mirrors back the disgust on my own face.

  “Do you think I want to be here?” His voice is so heavy it carries the weight of the rocks. I push myself further away from him. “I didn’t volunteer for this. I was happy in my life.
But we all have a job to do and this was mine. How was I supposed to know I’d be dealing with some feral brat on the outskirts of civilization trying to save her from herself?”

  “Feral brat?” I spit the words at him. “I guess we all can’t be pompous bastards.”

  “I’m not a bastard,” he snarls at me. “I know my father and he is still alive.” The words slap me across the face.

  “Mine would be too if it wasn’t for your kind.” My voice is ice. I want it to cut. A cold chuckle escapes me. “Here, I’ll make you a deal. You want my trust, then tell me why they sabotaged his machine. Why is my father dead?”

  There’s a truth. He wants to say it. I can feel my face softening as I wait.

  “I’m not sure,” he lies to me and turns his head away. “All I know is that this wasn’t what I expected.”

  “And what did you expect?” I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. I want this conversation to be over. I want him to fall off the face of the earth. The silence is punctuated by the wind picking up around us. Maybe it’ll be strong enough to push him off.

  “You weren’t supposed to be able to paint.” His voice is pained, and he refuses to look at me. “You shouldn’t have cried out like that when we took the blueprints.”

  “What are blueprints?” I stare at the side of his face.

  “That,” he smirks. “You were supposed to act like that. Stupid and dumb and feral. Well, maybe you do act like that most of the time.”

  “I hate you.” There’s no strength in my retort.

  “We are supposed to hate you too,” he sighs. “Listen, you need to be careful with what you say. Don’t talk like this to Drake or anyone else. Just let it go and move on. As long as you don’t cause any problems, we don’t have to watch you anymore.”

  The revelation takes me by surprise. It’s what I wanted right? No more eyes on me. They’ll leave me alone. As long as I do the right thing.

  “I can’t promise that,” I say.

  “Here,” he groans in frustration as he reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a small package of delicate material and grabs my hand so roughly I’m sure he’s going to toss me off the cliff. I dig my heels into the rocks. He places the package in my hand and abruptly lets me go.

 

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