Earthrumbler

Chapter Eighteen: Discoveries

My journey was slow, slower by my choice to travel around Dunver on the first day. For a few days, my body was still weak. Wrapped in Dill’s sweater, I slept against tree trunks for half days at a time. By the third day of traveling, the sweltering heat had cracked through the ice that seemed to encase me. I shed the sweater, but kept it with me for the cooler evenings. As time passed, I slept fewer hours until I was up before sunrise.

When I passed through Yondrin in the early evening, anyone who recognized me greeted me. Only a few did. I was so exhausted that my reply was halfhearted. The rest of the walk was silent. The sun set, tinting the sky pink, but it slowly melted into reds and purples until darkness surrounded me.

Even trudging as I was, home wasn’t so far off. My feet ached from walking so long. Without a light, I stumbled over rocks and divots in the road. Though the night wore on and my skin was sticky with perspiration, thoughts of home kept my feet slogging. As the small light at the end of the road came into view, a desire to sit, anchored at my feet, weighed me down.

My lip trembled when I stood at the front door. Thoughts of Papa, the Professor, my bed, and my books all surrounded me, assaulting me with a homesickness that desperation had forced out of me. Though I knew that Papa locked the door at night, I still jiggled the knob. I knocked, thinking he was perhaps still awake. When no one came to the door, I rounded the inn to the kitchen door, which Papa never locked. I twisted the knob as the cool night air blew my hair across my face.

“And now, I’m losing my mind. People knocking in the middle of the night, honestly,” a gruff voice, Papa, grumbled. His voice was rougher than I’d ever heard it.

The kitchen was stuffy. Thick air pressed against my skin. The eating hall was cooler. I tucked in a chair. When I turned to head into the main room, a sword was at my throat. “Ah!” I leapt back and lost my footing. I ended up on my back, looking my father in the eyes. My heart pounded in my throat.

“What do you think you’re doing in my home, eh? You want to steal something? I’ll skin you!” Papa thrust the sword at me. “You damn thief, I ought to—”

I found my voice. “Papa. Papa, it’s me.” My voice trembled.

“How dare you try to act like her! Liar, damn liar.” After he dropped the sword, he pulled me up and dragged me into the main room where there was a smidge of light from the fire. He stared at me. His face was hard and cold as stone. It sagged, not with relief, but with exhaustion. The charcoal around his eyes was impossible to disguise. The lines of his face had deepened. He said nothing before wrapping his arms around me.

I curled into him, not saying a word. I’d forgotten the comfort of his hug.

He rubbed up and down my back. His breathing was steady, and the material of his shirt was rough and familiar. Despite the heat, I melted into him. We didn’t move until the embers were flickering. He pulled back. “Jenny,” his voice was broken. “I thought you were dead.”

I cringed. Guilt crawled down my throat like acid. I had been so focused on everything around me that I’d pushed Papa to the back of my mind.

“I thought you were dead. It’s been a month, and I thought you were dead.” He cradled my head and stroked back my hair. Papa kissed the top of my head. He held me more tightly to him. “I thought you’d drowned, or that…rope had strangled you.”

Preparing myself to answer the hoards of questions he probably had, I swallowed. “I’m sorry, Papa. Do you want me to tell you what happened?” My hands, trembling at the thought, twiddled with one another to keep me calm. I tried to swallow down my thudding heart, but choked on it.