The gears on the blade started to spin, capturing a strand of essence. The gentle hum of a record spinning and the dead thing was pulled through the machinery of the weapon. The undead creature spooled on the ground like a long thread.
The blade turned ice-cold under her touch, and Kite spun around in time to see the Beast, visible once more, sever a hand from an arm.
More witches crawled from underground, and now Kite could see obsidian teeth and fingernails. The dead couldn’t leave the Witch-Killing Fields, but they could trap Kite here forever.
There were too many of them.
Kite’s eyes, minnows in the shallows, darted from the ghosts to Cam lying prone outside the circle.
Pressing her lips to the hilt, she breathed her power into the blade, which shivered at the warm sensation of her breath on its metal.
“Ready?” she asked the Beast. His tail turned scaly and clubbed. She took that as a yes.
And then they ran, sword and girl and creature, cutting through flesh and essence until they stood beside the boy with the stone blade.
Kite wrenched her hair back with one hand and swung the sword with the other. Eyes closed, she sent her desire into the blade edge like a question, like a plea.
It slid through her hair easily, and the severed strands fell to the ground, blackening and charring, the tips burnt and splitting. Her neck felt exposed and vulnerable.
“A sacrifice for safe travel,” she murmured, as a small rip in time and space appeared before her. She bent down and wrapped Cam’s hand around the stone dagger, then stabbed the ancient sword into the seam.
“Take us away from here, please.”
The metal like a kiss on her wrist. A turn of a knuckle, a hiccough, and then they were gone.
Behind them, the ghosts began eating her hair. She could feel it, even as the rest of her body was taken away from the Witch-Killing Fields.
Thirty-Seven
THE HEALER
Fatigue weighed on their arm hair and eyelashes. Tav rubbed their stinging eyes and let Eli guide them out of The Sun, one of the few places they had ever felt truly safe.
“Thanks for not killing me,” said Eli lightly. Her hand on their elbow was gentle as the wind.
“Don’t you mean ‘repurposing you’?” Tav tried a smile, but the betrayal of their former friends darkened their mood like a packet of black cherry Kool-Aid powder in clear water.
“Yeah. I like my current purpose.”
“That’s too bad, I was hoping I could give you mine.” Tav flicked their hair out of their eyes. It was getting long, the dark roots making the violet more vivid by contrast.
“And that was … to fight injustice, or to get revenge on everyone who fucked you over?”
Tav shrugged. “A little of both.”
“I appreciate your honesty.”
“I didn’t think an assassin would be too judgmental.”
“We’re a very open-minded group.”
This time, the smile was genuine.
“It’s okay to be angry,” said Eli, looking at the horizon rather than at Tav. “I’ve seen how it works here, what it can do. You don’t have to hide from it. It doesn’t mean you’re going to turn into her.”
“I know that.” Irritation checkered their voice. “I don’t need you to tell me how to survive in my own world.”
“Well, you might want to learn how to duck.”
A surprised laugh, light as a cirrus cloud. A few more steps. Her hand on their arm, keeping them steady.
“So, what are we doing with these? Opening a flower shop?” Tav looked down at the armful of plants, the wild magic so bright it hurt their eyes.
“The City of Ghosts is so passé,” said Eli. “It’s time to go back to the source.”
Tav stopped. “The journey across worlds could break you,” they said quietly. “It almost has before.”
“I know that.”
Tav studied Eli’s face. Her eyes flickered between yellow and black like a bumblebee.
“Tell me.” Their voice was hoarse and gravelly.
“Tell you what?” Eli met their gaze with wide eyes, but the hard set of her shoulders gave away the tension under her skin.
“Eli.”
“Tav.”
“Please?”
“Is that the magic word?” Eli laughed. Tav ached to hear the emptiness behind the sound, like a tin can kicked by a child.
“In the allium field —”
“Don’t. That’s not fair.”
“None of this is fair. But you can’t keep acting like you’re still working alone, Eli. Because you’re not.”
The hand fell from their elbow. Eli adjusted her glasses.
“I’ll tell you,” she said finally. “Once we get away from here.” She let out a long sigh. “I think this experience has ruined espresso for me for good.”
Tav shook their head. “That’s the real tragedy here.”
At the bike, they hesitated. The desire to appear strong struggled with the desire to lean against a solid body and close their eyes. To let someone else lead for once.
“You want to drive?” they asked.
Eli’s eyes like yellow saucers in her face. “Is that a trick question?”
More smiles, quick and guilty, like awkward laughter at a funeral. But they had to smile. Everything was falling apart. Everything was absurd.
Eli hesitated. “Where should I take you?” She didn’t need to say it out loud — Tav knew the apartment might not be safe anymore. The number of shelters they had was dwindling.
A memory, sweet and sharp, cut through the haze. A girl who fell out of the sky.
Tav put a gloved hand on Eli’s shoulder and squeezed gently, then offered her the word that had gotten Eli into all this trouble in the first place.
“Anywhere,” they said.
Eli grinned. She revved the engine, and they tore off down the street.
Tav wrapped their arms around her and held on tight. Eli hadn’t disappeared. Somehow, she had stayed, despite the power of the Heart that had burned
