Disclaimer- I own nothing.
This chapter is up thanks to the lovely reviews I got. I hope you all enjoy this.
There is a great pavement in the clouds, and only Steerpike knows how to get there.
The water that slowly swallows Gormenghast plucks and laps against the sides of the little boat that is his saviour, his tiny, almost useless fort. He knows that when they come for him there will be fleets of them with arrows and bows and probably, most hideous of all, fire.
He is stretched out in the boat as if to sleep, but no sleep comes to him. He lies with one hand behind his head, the other over his heart. It has never hurt so much before.
He lies instead with his eyes half open, watching four leaves toyed by the wind, skitter on the surface of the deep dark water.
Lady Fuchsia's rejection sharp in his memory, his anger boils just below the surface. He'll get them all back, he'll win this fight like he's won all of the others. And he'll make her see.
He sits up when he thinks he hears an echo of despair, and then a great splash in the water. His blood freezes for a reason he can't think of.
He knows he can't win again. He's been too lucky, too sure. And this time it's different- he no longer has the advantage of knowing every corner of Gormenghast. The hallways and hidden rooms he knows so well are all deep underwater.
If not only that, he is a wounded man.
He can't think of anything but her horror-stricken face, her dark judgemental eyes, and her beautiful mouth open in disgust. He remembers how abruptly his heart sunk as he realised his mistake, how it felt like the end of the world for a moment.
How she turned away, how she refused his kiss.
Only he knows where the pavement in the sky leads. In one second, he realises two things, things which will eventually lead to his destruction. These realisations are that Lady Fuchsia is gone forever.
And he has not told her how to reach the pavement.