Page 32 of The Book of Heartbreak

A ‘beddua’ embodies the simplest form of a curse within mortal grasp. It is an utterance by the aggrieved, a sequence of words forming a malevolent wish, a profound longing from those harmed to impose a curse upon the transgressor.

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

Despite spending the whole day building a long list of reasons why I’d better stay away from the tower and Leon, I slip out of the house the following night.

My heart instantly picks up a new rhythm as I see Leon’s tall figure waiting for me outside.

‘Are you okay, Silverbirch?’ he asks as he watches me push the gate open. The gloom that filled my head all day dispels as soon as my eyes settle on him. His joy is too hard to ignore; it’s almost contagious. Is it normal that he makes me feel this happy?

You’re only a job to him , Munu’s voice says in my head. An assignment. Business. Don’t fall for him.

My shoulder brushes Leon’s arm as we walk down the slope. I’m astonished by how quickly and readily I accept his closeness. With him I’m another version of myself, though even this one is still afraid to love, or admit that she can develop feelings for Leon.

Would he still look at you like this, that insistent voice pipes up again, if he knew what the curse will do to you if you survive it?

And I have a question of my own too. Will he still want to work with me, if he finds out I’ve lied to him?

I have no answers.

He doesn’t invade my silence until we arrive at the docks, where I’m surprised to see someone else waiting for us. Pelin.

She steps forward, beautiful as a siren, and passes Leon something.

‘I’ve borrowed the boat from Master Bora, Pelin’s father,’ Leon explains, showing me the keys.

‘Please think again.’ Pelin grimaces, focusing on Leon as if I’m not there.

‘Pelin . . .’ Leon sighs.

She pouts. ‘Then at least let me come too.’

‘You know you can’t.’ Leon pats her shoulder. ‘This is destiny, Pelin. There’s a reason Sare and I found each other – and the book.’

We found each other . My heart skips a beat.

‘You’re risking yourself, and everything you worked for.’ Pelin glares at him.

Leon jumps into the boat and Pelin heads towards me.

‘Please, Sare,’ she whispers. ‘Leon likes to play the hero – he likes to help people. He’s drawn to this curse – please don’t let it consume him the way it did Sufi Chelebi. Please protect him.’

There are so many unknowns in the near future, and the past, and perhaps I was too focused on the curse and what it will do to me. I was selfish, never figuring this trip could harm Leon.

‘Pelin!’ Leon snaps before I can respond. ‘I’m not a child, and you’re not my mum.’

‘You won’t give up, will you?’ Pelin shakes her head in frustration. ‘Just be careful, you two,’ she says, then walks away, leaving us alone under the blinking light of a broken lamp-post.

I climb into the boat after Leon, and he turns on the engine. I grip the edge as we speed off, rocking, battling with the strong current. In the narrow neck of the sea between the mainland and the tower, the water is thick with friction, the waves trying to push us back.

‘What exactly is your relationship with Pelin?’ I shouldn’t ask – I shouldn’t care – but I can’t help myself.

‘We grew up together,’ Leon answers. ‘She was, and still is, my only friend.’

The boat’s engine whirrs as we approach the island. Despite the gravity of our quest, a wave of relief washes over me – Leon isn’t romantically involved with her.

What’s wrong with me? Why does it even matter, when my life hangs in the balance?

Lost in my thoughts, I let my hair catch in the breeze and fill my lungs with the salty perfume of the sea. On the shore, traffic flows despite the late hour, the headlights of the cars dotted like Christmas decorations along the mainland.

Leon’s voice pulls me back. ‘Pelin’s father is my master – my teacher,’ he says, oblivious to my turmoil. ‘He saved my life when I first contacted the Otherside. Or, I should say, the Otherside contacted me.’

‘H-how?’ I ask gingerly.

‘I was six when the visions started. One day, I was playing outside and a child appeared – and then disappeared as quickly as he had arrived. It didn’t take me long to realise he wasn’t alive.

I continued to see him at random times, and even in my dreams. He demanded that I find his murderer.

It’s a sad story, Silverbirch, not one for today.

But if it weren’t for Pelin’s father, I might have been long lost. Master Bora taught me how to control the visions, when to summon them, and how to dismiss them. ’

‘Didn’t your aunt help? She’s a seer too, right?’ I’m taken aback by how, like me, Leon has endured a childhood with the shadow of Death looming over him. Perhaps we have more things in common than I realised.

‘The craft works differently for everyone,’ Leon says. ‘Harika is a clairvoyant, not a curse-breaker like me. She’s haunted by the future; I’m haunted by the past – and the present.’

‘What about Pelin?’

‘Pelin doesn’t have the pure eye,’ Leon says. ‘She’s a warden. She studies and documents our craft. When we arrive,’ he goes on, as we cut closer to the tower, ‘you might have a flash of something – a vision that will connect you to the past. Don’t fight it, okay? Trust it.’

I recall all the times Munu begged me to be selfish, to focus only on my needs. Now, I have to set aside the guilt of betraying her – or putting others in danger – in order to find the truth.

I have to do this, I tell myself. I owe it to myself.

It will be okay. It must be.

The tower is silent but expectant as we arrive, and I shiver as I step down from the boat onto the rocks, once more experiencing that disturbing feeling of déjà vu.

‘Everything okay?’ Leon touches my arm and I recoil instinctively.

Is he pitying me? A cursed girl, alone and helpless. A charity case. He likes to help people, Pelin’s voice plays in my mind. I fill my lungs with the sea air and focus on the task at hand.

‘You were right . . .’ I hesitate. ‘I-it’s different in the dark. More familiar.’

My words light up Leon’s eyes with excitement, a reminder how obsessed he is with the curse.

‘You look different too,’ he says. ‘You almost glow . . . again.’

‘Now’s not the time to take the mickey.’ I roll my eyes. ‘And trust me, the curse doesn’t come with a radiance package.’

‘Hmm.’ He purses his lips, but he doesn’t protest.

With slow steps, we enter the courtyard. Leon guides me in without uttering another word, perhaps he wants the silence to absorb me, to better trigger a memory of another life, when I was not Sare, but Iris – or Theodora.

The summer air is warm, but I still wrap my arms around myself.

‘Shall we go inside?’ Leon gestures at the tower.

The interior feels smaller than it looked the last time I visited – the foyer, free of tourists, casts strange shadows through the arched windows.

I shake my head. ‘It’s better outside.’ My voice echoes as we climb the staircase. ‘More familiar.’

‘The terrace, then,’ Leon says as we reach the rotunda.

‘This is where the maiden hurled herself into the sea,’ I say, impatient, as Leon unlocks the door. ‘If I’m the same person reborn, aren’t you concerned about what could happen to me now?’

‘I’m here to protect you.’ His gaze holds mine with such intensity, I’m convinced he would leap after me if I were to hurl myself into the sea. ‘We’re in this together. Partners.’

I pull myself together. Business partners. That’s all we are.

‘Silverbirch.’ Leon’s jaw tightens as he studies my face. ‘Don’t be afraid of hope. You will break this curse.’

‘Your hope –’ I close my eyes as we step outside – ‘is contagious.’

I try to concentrate in the silence. The night hums around me, electric with Leon so close by.

My hands tightly grip the railing. But no memories, no voices, no flashes arrive.

Doubt starts to creep up on me. If I was really Theodora, the maiden trapped in this tower, wouldn’t I recall a flicker of memory?

I’m Sare Sila Silverbirch, I tell myself.

Four months shy of eighteen, four times heartbroken.

Had I lived another life, the pain of it would be here with me.

Time cannot erase heartbreak. Even death won’t allow me to forget mine.

There should be some trace of a past ache, a shadow . . . But there’s nothing.

All I have are my own sorrows. Not Theodora’s. Not Iris’s.

I open my eyes again to take in the view of the Bosphorus.

The late hour has transformed Istanbul into something wilder and more beautiful.

The city lights twinkle in the distance on the mainland and a constellation of stars joins them, shining on the blanket of the water.

As I stare into the velvety darkness beneath the reflections, the peculiar feeling of déjà vu stabs me again.

I let go of the railing, while the skyline shimmers and the soft waves lap at the rocks like cats licking their paws.

The sea is dark beneath us, like a hungry mouth ready to devour nightmares.

The sea.

The darkness.

This balcony.

‘Fuck,’ I gasp into the night with a sudden understanding.

It’s the lights. The lights are misleading.

This place . . . How could I not have seen it before?

‘What is it?’ Leon is tense, his eyes pin me down as if I might thrust myself into the sea any minute.

But I won’t. How can I? Now I know what this place really is.

The lights tricked me, or perhaps Leon’s company is the worst distraction, but as I study the wrought-iron panels circling the balcony, the waves caressing the base with an unyielding patience, I become certain why the tower feels so familiar.

‘Nothing,’ I hear myself lie. For there’s no way to explain to him how foolish I was, deceived by the sunlight, failing to see the truth on my first visit. Or perhaps I was too occupied with Leon.

But now under the weak light of the stars, I’m certain this place is the Inbetween.