“We don’t have a choice,” I whispered. I shifted the weight of the glass jar to my other arm. “They were cursed as soon as they were created.”
He didn’t answer but hoisted the trunk onto one shoulder and started down the dock. Balthazar took a load and followed Montgomery like a shadow. I brushed the hair out of my eyes and looked back toward the burning compound. I couldn’t see the flames, but the column of smoke said enough.
I hugged the jar and hurried down the dock. Montgomery was already carrying another load. There was an urgency to his every move. I dreaded the moment when we would push off in the launch. I was afraid of what we would tell Balthazar, left on the dock, the last innocent being on the island.
“One more trip should do it,” Montgomery muttered. We took the last of the cargo, and Montgomery unhitched Duke and pushed against his shoulder.
“Get on, you old boy,” he chided, but his voice caught. Duke took a few steps back but didn’t leave. His ears were alert, watching his master, ready to follow him to the ends of the earth. Montgomery picked up the last of the water jars and didn’t look back at the horse.
Every step down that dock was one less I’d ever take on the island. One more toward England. Montgomery and I would make a life there with each other. Comfortable. Quiet. We’d never mention the past. If he’d seen my role in Father’s murder, he’d never say anything, just as I’d never ask if he missed Balthazar. We’d forget about Edward—no, that was impossible.
I’d never forget Edward.
One more step. And another. And then I was at the launch.
“We don’t have a choice,” I said, my vocal cords trembling. Montgomery’s eyes reflected my own tangled emotions. For a moment I studied his face in the moonlight, wondering if the tie between us would be different in London. For now, it felt as though he and I would always be bound together.
I reached for the line holding the launch, but Montgomery touched my shoulder softly. He turned me back to face him again. His features were knotted and tense, but then his lips parted. “Juliet—”
He pulled me into a deep kiss. My surprise melted and I kissed him back. My hand found the hard silhouette of his chest and pulled with trembling fingers at his shirt. I wanted to hold on to him forever. Believing in nothing except the truth of Montgomery, who for all his faults was as steady as the sea, as honest as the sun. My eyes watered with unexpected tears, and I kissed him harder, desperately. It wasn’t a happy ending. He and I would return to the real world, but there was only anguish left for Balthazar and the others.
Montgomery broke off the kiss, reluctantly. Swallowed hard. He was as afraid of the future as I was. For a moment it was only he and I and the sea and the unknown.
“All right,” he said, taking a deep breath. “It’s time.” He climbed into the boat and steadied himself. He motioned for Balthazar and me to hand him the cargo. We worked efficiently, not exchanging words. He settled the cargo carefully to prevent the boat tipping if we came across a storm. And then he climbed out and wiped his hand through his sea-blown hair.
An awful sickness roiled in my abdomen as though I’d missed an injection. But I hadn’t. It was the shame of what I had to do, knotting my insides. I couldn’t find the words to tell Balthazar we were leaving him behind.
At last Montgomery cleared his throat. “Right, then. You first, Juliet.”
I looked up in surprise. Were we just going to climb in and push off, leaving Balthazar puzzled and heartbroken as we drifted away? I searched Montgomery’s face, but it was like stone. He held out his hand, and I took it hesitantly and climbed down into the rocking boat. I settled between two trunks at the far end, trying to force back my tears.
“I wish it didn’t have to be this way,” I said, hunching into myself. I knew he would understand what I meant. Not just leaving Balthazar, but leaving all of them—Father, Edward, the bones of all those who had died so unfairly. This island—the things that happened here—should never have existed.
“So do I,” Montgomery said, his whispered voice so low the wind might have carried it off. But he kept his gaze on me, which was odd. I kept looking at Balthazar, feeling crushed by guilt, and guiltier still that Montgomery had to be the one to tell him.
“I’m afraid this is it,” he said.
I nodded, squeezing my knees in tighter. I wouldn’t look at Balthazar’s face. It might be cowardly, but I couldn’t live with the image of his heartbreak in my head forever.
“I’m so sorry, Juliet.” Montgomery suddenly crouched down to the pile, unraveling the line faster than my brain could think. Sorry? Why wasn’t he getting into the boat?
It hit me like a tidal wave. He wasn’t coming with me.
He wasn’t coming with me.
The weight of it crushed me to the bottom of the launch. I stared at him, and then at Balthazar, who was trying his best not to look at me. Balthazar had known all along. This wasn’t a farewell to Balthazar.