Page 26 of The Book of Heartbreak

Verily, objects imbued with otherworldly sentience yearn for their rightful domain, returning with unseen force when fate disrupts their bond.

Excerpt from The Book of Revenge, Müneccimbasi Sufi Chelebi’s Journals of Mystical Phenomena

After breakfast, I sneak out with the book tucked under my arm, pulsating like a second heart.

Across the street, Leon emerges from his building accompanied by the girl I spotted on his balcony before. I push through the gate. Her hair is the colour of toasted almonds and her long gazelle legs are tan against her cotton sundress. Her obvious beauty makes me feel like a garden gnome.

‘Pelin.’ Leon introduces her, and she seems distressed. I wonder if it’s because of meeting me.

‘Sare.’ I nod. Pelin offers a reluctant handshake, her grip firm on my fingertips, her hazel eyes narrowing as they rake over me. Her eyebrows lift as her gaze lands on the book cradled in my arms.

‘Nice to finally meet you, Sare.’ She glances at Leon. I can tell they’ve been speaking about me, or the book, or Leon – or any combination thereof, likely leading to a condemnation of one or more of us.

‘I trust you’ve read Sufi’s journal,’ Leon says.

I nod again.

‘And now we all know what happened to Sufi Chelebi,’ Pelin says. ‘And you’ll advise Leon that he needs to stop tracing his footsteps, won’t you, Sare?’

Pelin looks at me as if I have power over Leon, and I reward her with a frown.

‘At least leave the book with her.’ Pelin’s hair gleams in the sunshine as she turns to Leon. It’s curious how she seems immune to sweating. ‘She found it. It’s hers.’

Leon shakes his head with a heavy sigh. ‘You’re going to miss the ferry, Pelin.’

‘You promised me, Leon. You promised Dad.’ Pelin softens her voice. ‘You have the Peru trip coming up, you don’t need to prove yourself to anyone. You don’t have to do anything with the tower. You’re already a fine seer.’

I look away, embarrassed, as if I’m eavesdropping on a private conversation. Overhead, gulls circle us like harpies, their obscene shrieks edged with tension, as if they can feel my stress.

‘Enough, Pelin.’ Leon’s words cut through the air, sharp and final. ‘I told you, this is my case. She is mine – my responsibility, I mean.’

I’m too stunned to speak. His responsibility?

What does that mean? And what’s wrong with this girl?

Is she jealous? The idea is more laughable than unsettling.

Pelin is straight-out-of-a-shampoo-ad beautiful; there’s no way she’d think I’m a threat to her relationship with Leon.

I clutch the book, anxious about what exactly I’ve got myself into, instead of passing a few uneventful months that would eventually lead to a curse-free life.

‘I’m frightened.’ Pelin’s voice is barely a tremor. Her gaze flickers from Leon’s hardened face to me. ‘And you should be too, Sare Silverbirch.’

‘Pelin,’ Leon cautions.

‘Remember what happened to Sufi Chelebi,’ Pelin snaps at him.

Leon shrugs. ‘I’m not Sufi Chelebi.’

And I’m not Theodora, I think. I can’t be.

‘Fine.’ Pelin shakes her head with disapproval, and dashes off without offering a goodbye, barely escaping the car that speeds past us, its engine moaning in response to its climb up the slope.

‘Goodbye to you too,’ Leon mutters. ‘Typical Pelin – always ultra-protective. Don’t worry. Her father is a master, he’ll set her mind at ease when she gets home.’

I wonder if they’re dating, though I don’t ask.

It would explain the effortless ease between them, the way they move together, always comfortable in each other’s presence.

I shake my head, trying to push aside Pelin’s warnings, or whatever her relationship status with Leon may be, and prepare myself to part ways with The Book of Heartbreak .

‘Let’s go upstairs, to mine,’ Leon suggests, his gaze shifting to the large gulls that swoop up and down the narrow street, seemingly oblivious to my desire to escape. ‘We have to talk.’

‘I’m sorry, I can’t—’ I attempt to hand him the book. It hurts to separate myself from it, but I have a feeling this hurt will only grow deeper if I delay it. ‘I just want to return this. I don’t want to get involved—’

‘Is this because of what Pelin said?’ He interrupts me with a deeply etched frown. ‘She’s not a curse-breaker.’

‘She seems to know a great deal, though,’ I mutter. Everyone does, except me.

‘Not everything is as it seems, Silverbirch.’ Leon grins. ‘Look, we really need to go somewhere inside. It’s not safe out here.’ He looks to the skies again.

‘Please, take it.’ I step forward to thrust the book to his chest.

A shadow streaks across my vision. I glance up to see one of the gulls plunging towards me, aiming straight for the book.

The flurry of beating wings and its enraged shriek sends a jolt of terror through me.

I leap back to escape, clutching the journal to protect it.

But the bird dives fast, bringing with it the unmistakable stench of sea, fish, rot and something else – something . . . off.

‘Silverbirch – look out!’ Leon’s voice is strangled as he lunges forward to knock me over.

I land hard on the cobblestones. A sickening crunch of metal and bone echoes along the narrow street, and I lift my head to see Leon sprawled on the asphalt, his face contorted in pain, blood blooming crimson on his leg.

A moped is tipped over beside him, the driver a blur of fury, ranting in Turkish.

Rooted to the spot, I’m drenched in sweat and fear, guilt washing over me.

He saved me. He pushed me, and instead he took the hit – it should have been me in that spot, not Leon.

‘I’m okay.’ Leon grits his teeth. Relief floods through me that, despite looking far from okay, he isn’t fatally injured. I pull myself up and rush to his side.

‘ Abi, tamam .’ He gestures to the motorist, and receives more yelling in return before the man jumps back on his bike and disappears down the road.

‘The book—’ Leon winces as I lift him to his feet. And I realise that, in my concern for him, I left it lying on the cobblestones.

I turn back to scan the ground, slightly disappointed that his heroic actions might have been to save the book rather than me, and see the gull plummeting towards the tome again.

‘What the fuck?’ I watch the enormous creature soar away with Sufi Chelebi’s journal clutched in its beak. ‘It took the book!’

Helpless, Leon and I watch the bird disappear into the skies.

‘Upstairs,’ Leon commands as he grips my arm. Despite his state, his hand is a steel claw. ‘Now.’

‘Shouldn’t you go to hospital?’ I ask as he furiously drags me into the cool darkness of the building. I’m too perplexed to question why we need to be inside his house right now.

‘I’m okay,’ he says, a lie that falls flat. ‘Not the first time I got hit by a bike. And we really need to talk, Silverbirch.’ His eyes lock with mine. ‘At least help me climb the stairs.’

‘Fine,’ I mutter, sulking. I hate being this close to him, but how can I refuse after he just saved me?

The stale air of the building seems to thicken as he takes hold of my waist. It isn’t just a touch, it’s a raw energy, rough and crackling, pulsing through my veins with each passing second.

I feel breathless, though it may be because his arm is wrapped like a tight band around my waist. His muscles feel hard and tense as he presses himself onto me for support.

It’s an utterly foreign sensation. I want to slip away, escape, but remain in this moment at the same time.

He lets out a soft groan as he hoists his leg up the first step, and my heart begins to gallop in my chest. Living in confinement in my own bubble for nearly eighteen years, I swear I’ve already touched Leon more in the last ten minutes than I have anyone else in my entire life.

This needs to stop, I decide. I’ll help him to his door, then turn on my heels and march back home. To safety.

We continue to climb, slowly, agonisingly, impossibly close. Leon pauses after every step. On the fifth, the overhead light flickers and dies, plunging us into sudden darkness.

‘Wave your arm,’ Leon whispers into my ear.

‘What?’ I ask.

‘The light.’ The warmth of his ragged breath causes me to tremble. ‘It’s movement controlled.’

I wave my free arm to make ourselves known to the stupid sensors of this stupid building. Muzaffer should sort this place out.

Somehow, we reach the final, precarious step.

But then Leon loses his balance and momentarily falters.

His stumble sends a jolt of panic through me.

On reflex, I try to pull him onto the landing but he must have interpreted it as my own loss of balance, because he holds me in his arms and crushes me against the cool, damp wall.

My heart stops as his body presses against mine. I’m acutely aware of the prolonged gaze that binds us together like a spell, but I can’t look away. I can’t break the magic of this moment.

I don’t want to.

The spark in his eyes transforms into something else – a question or a challenge, I can’t tell. For a second, I wonder what it would mean to answer it. My own fear – or foolishness – immobilises me, rendering me breathless.

‘Fuck.’ The woody, salty scent of his sweat surrounds me. ‘That hurt like hell, Silverbirch.’

‘Be more careful next time,’ I counter, pushing him gently away.

We’re safe, secure and very stable, after all.

I have no excuse to be so close to him any more.

My hair, thankfully loose, veils the blush creeping up my cheeks.

My ears burn as if they’re on fire – I half expect them to crumble into ash as he pulls himself away.

I refuse to meet his gaze, only lifting my head when the jingle of his keys breaks the silence and he manages to unlock the door.

‘I guess I’ll see you later, then,’ I mutter.

‘You can’t be serious?’ he says. ‘I just got hit by a moped. You can’t leave me alone. What if I have a head trauma?’