Country life was hard, but good. It was much more pleasant and less complicated than the life she had had at either the pub or the orphanage before that. And living with Daks and Ora was such a joy.

  Alf and Sandy came to help sow the crops for the autumn harvest. One afternoon, while they were having lunch, Daks asked Prim to go sit with him by the pond.

  She sat on the wooden bench by the pond. Daks finally sat down beside her. They sat in the pregnant silence for a few moments. Some doves cooed in the nearby trees. Daks stood up and began pacing.

  “Prim, I don’t know how to say what I want to say. Um. Things have been hard since Quin passed away. I’ve had plenty to do. I’ve poured myself into raising Ora, and I’ve poured myself into this farm. But…I thought that it would be just her and me until…I don’t know. I guess I hadn’t thought that far into the future. But that’s it, I guess—I didn’t see a future. I just saw me and Ora here on the farm.” He sighed. “Besides, how would I find another wife all the way out here?” He chuckled nervously. “I’m sorry. I’m rambling. I—” He groaned.

  Silence again.

  Prim’s insides were heavy with dread. Her heart raced. Nonononononono! She pressed herself into the bench to keep from jumping up and running. She was determined to hear what he was going to say, despite herself.

  “What I’m trying to say is now I’m…actually thinking about the future. And…I see you there, with me and Ora. When I gave you that sketchbook months ago, I knew, but I was scared. We hardly knew each other. But you could never break me, Prim. You make me happier than I’ve been in such a long time! And I want to make you as happy as you make me for the rest of our lives.”

  He returned to his seat next to her.

  Silence. Prim’s insides churned. She wasn’t sure she had ever felt so terrified. How could he think she was good enough to marry—to be a mother to his daughter? He was crackbrained.

  And yet…there was no denying that she had never experienced such a connection with anyone like this before. This must be what it felt like to have friends or even family. She loved Ora and she…no, no, she didn’t love Daks. That couldn’t be. But she did want what he was talking about.

  But that couldn’t be for her. He deserved so much better. He deserved a woman who could love him. She couldn’t love him the way he deserved to be loved.

  She realized she was gazing into his eyes, and he was gazing into hers. He leaned in a bit, and she felt herself drawing nearer to him. He reached out his hand and gently cupped her face as their lips met. They lingered for a moment, and then Prim pulled back.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Why are you sorry?” he asked.

  “I—I don’t know. I just…I…don’t want to leave. But I feel like I have to eventually. It would be selfish of me to stay.”

  “But if I’m asking you to stay, how are you being selfish in staying?”

  He didn’t understand. How could he. Staying on this farm with these people she cared about deeply, a roof over her head, warm food in her, a strong possibility of marriage and stability. All the while knowing it would inevitably come to a terrible end, whether she snapped again and did something awful, or because the Spotters finally found her and took her away to receive justice. She couldn’t allow herself to enjoy and benefit from Daks’ and Ora’s love when she was going to rip their hearts out one way or another in the end.

  “You don’t have to commit to anything right now. Just—could you consider it for a month? Then decide. I think you’d make a good wife—you already do so much a wife would do. And I think I would be a good husband to you.”

  “It seems cruel for me to stay any longer when I feel like I’m going to have to leave anyway.”

  “But why would you have to leave? Do you want to go?”

  She couldn’t bring herself to say the truth again.

  “Please. One month.”

  Finally, Prim nodded. “One month.”

  The incessant call to hide in a corner or run, the voice saying Prim didn’t belong and would destroy everything gradually grew quieter again. She was quickly filling her sketchbook. Her drawings were becoming less gruesome. More drawings of everyday things and less drawings of Pepin or Aiglentine’s eyes.

  Mayhaps she could be a farmer’s wife and, even, the mother to a wonderful girl.

  Stolen story; please report.

  A few weeks later, Daks’ uncle Dennby came to the farm to pick up the boys and Ora. Little Brenne was with him.

  Daks and Prim each hugged Ora tightly before she jumped on the cart. “Behave, atcha? We’ll see you in a fortnight,” Daks said. Then he kissed her on the cheek. “Ask Aunt Edmey to teach you how to make her cherry pie.”

  As the Shoggs’ cart disappeared southwards, Daks said, “Tomorrow, let’s have a picnic.”

  Prim smiled. “Yes. Let’s.”

  The following day before lunch, Prim packed the big basket with a large blanket, some dried meat, carrots, and berries.

  When she emerged from the house, Daks was standing out front with Maeve hooked up to the cart.

  “I thought we’d be going to the pond,” Prim said, confused.

  “We’re going a bit further today,” Daks replied.

  “Where?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  He helped her up into the cart.

  They rode out back through the fields, past grazing cows. Prim looked out over the land. So beautiful and open. Daks wrapped his arm around her, and she nuzzled in. She wanted to stay in this moment forever. She closed her eyes.

  This isn’t yours. You don’t belong here.

  A sound began to grow that she couldn’t place at first. It was soothing but also irritating at once.

  She realized the cart had stopped near the cliffs. The sound was the waves crashing down beyond the edge of the cliff. The dark water was stretched from the cliffs to as far as the eye could see.

  Prim’s heart stopped. Her voice faltered. “Here?”

  Daks jumped down from the cart. He held out his hand to help her down, which she accepted. “Yes, it’s my favorite place outside of town.”

  Prim stared at the cliff’s edge as Daks grabbed the basket from the cart. Then he grasped her hand, which startled her.

  He looked at her, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Let’s eat. I’m hungry.”

  Daks laid out the blanket a little too close to the cliff’s edge for Prim’s comfort. They sat and ate.

  Daks smiled, looking out at the sea. “I love this place. I used to bring Quin and Ora out here. The cool breeze….and the sea just goes on forever.”

  Prim forced the munchings down, her whole body stiff as a board. The cliffs were calling to her again. Don’t think that. DontthinkthatdontthinkthatDONTTHINKTHAT.

  “When I was a boy, I wanted to be a sailor. Travel the sea. Mayhaps cross over to the islands. I wanted to look at the night sky while floating on the sea. It sounded amazing.”

  She needed distraction. “Why didn’t you?”

  “I’m not sure. I think I forgot about that dream. My younger brother, Kalum, was ill, and Grandfather told me I should stay near home to make the most of the time Kalum had left. So I joined the Spotters like my older brother, Irol. And Kalum died a year later. I was with him when he took his final breaths.”

  “I’m glad you were able to be with him. I didn’t know you had brothers.”

  “It’s been so long since I have felt like a brother. Irol is still in the city with my parents. Still a Spotter.”

  There was an edge of bitterness in Daks’ voice. He stared at the ground.

  She could no longer hear the birds singing or the swishing of the grass to the breeze’s melody or even the sound of Daks’ voice. The sound of the sea crashing against the cliffs enveloped her. She couldn’t help but look towards the ledge. She started picking blades of grass and ripping them apart.

  Daks arose. He offered her his hand. “Let’s go look out at the sea.”

  Prim started shaking her head and waving her hands. “No! Sorry—No, I can’t. No—no, I can’t. I’m so sorry.” The words flopped out of her mouth in a choppy mess.

  Daks took a step back, surprised. “Prim, what’s wrong?”

  Her breaths were getting faster and faster, about to overtake her. If she stood, she would roll into the sea to be gone forever. “I can’t go there. I can’t go over there.”

  “Prim. I need you to calm down and tell me what is wrong. Why can’t you go over there?”

  He sat down next to her and grasped her hand. The gentle strength of his large, warm hands instantly cooled her panic. Her breaths slowed to a more reasonable pace.

  Daks gazed at Prim. Her dark curls, wild like her eyes, danced in the wind.

  “Daks. You won’t believe me.”

  “Just tell me.”

  “I’ve been here once before—”

  He pushed aside his disappointment at not being the first to bring her here.

  “—The night before you found me in the cype. After I….left the pub, I ran out of town. I just ran. I found a large bottle of gin—I don’t remember where or how—and I drank the entire thing when I got too hungry.”

  Daks couldn’t imagine Prim being able to handle half that amount.

  “I ended up at the cliffs late that night, utterly sozzled. My memory isn’t the best. But I do remember sitting right on the edge of the cliffs right over there—or near there—ready to jump. I couldn’t live with what I’d done.” She started picking at the grass. “I went to the edge to jump, but I must have heard something. I looked behind me and realized there was a huge wolf sneaking towards me through the grass. He had this huge hump on his back. And his eyes were huge and green…but also somehow human? It was terrible.”

  “You saw a wolf that close? Out here?”

  She nodded. “I suddenly forgot that I wanted to die. I suddenly, desperately wanted to live. I tried to reach the bottle to defend myself—as if that would work on such a monster—but I couldn’t. The wolf kept coming closer and closer. Then it pounced on me. It put its face right up to mine, huge teeth snarling at me. Its eyes were so big. I knew it was over.”

  Prim could feel the wolf’s breath on her face just like she had that night.

  “But then the wolf was thrown off me! At first, I thought he somehow flew backwards—I know wolves don’t fly—again, I was sozzled—but there was this big yellow light like candlelight. I jumped up, and the wolf was running away! In front of me stood a person—I think it was a person—but the person was—I still don’t understand this—all light. The person was a person-shaped light, giving off this warm glow. It seemed like daytime around us because of how bright it—he?—was.”

  A light person? She was drunk, but surely, she had seen something?

  “He said, ‘Primrose, remember me.’ And then suddenly, it was dark, and I was alone. Then I woke up in your chicken cype.”

  Daks sat silent, stunned. He scratched his beard.

  “I know it’s crackbrained. It doesn’t feel real. Maybe it isn’t. But…I think it is…somehow. I just needed to tell you because I’ve struggled with that urge—to find my way back here and finally sekadaer. And…being here just brought that whole night back to me.”

  He just didn’t know what to say.

  “I’m afraid I’ll still jump. When you and Ora would go into the city, I never came here. But I wanted to jump.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. Would he ever understand this daem?

  Prim found herself sobbing in his arms, relieved. Her raw nerves craved words of assurance. Did he still love her after everything—bad, good, and crackbrained—that she had told him?

  Finally, he pulled away, and said, “Let’s go back to the house.”

  They packed up the picnic.