She was incredible.
Tav tightened their grip, as if they could keep Eli’s body together by sheer force of will. If now was all they had, they were going to hold on to it. As the engine rumbled and the tires spat out gravel from underneath them, Tav closed their eyes and focused on Eli’s heartbeat.
Now. Now. Now.
THE HEART
Eli took them to the river. This was the place where everything had changed — when a human had seen through her glamour. Had really seen her. And not fled.
Tav had never been afraid of what she was. Eli had to trust in that bravery now.
Eli flowed over the rock like the river below them. Tav followed. The water pirouetted into eddies, shaping arabesques out of foam. Water communing with land.
Eli could feel Tav’s eyes on hers, could feel the intensity of their gaze. For a moment she lost herself in the Heart, her body fluttering into immateriality and back like a line of laundry tossed by a cruel wind. “Don’t,” she said automatically. “Don’t look at me.”
“Okay.” Tav turned to face the river. They waited. Eli closed her eyes and listened to the human heartbeat next to her, felt the warmth from the rock under her legs mixing with the heat from the skin beside her. So much life. So much death.
So many things to break.
She looked down at the river, at the split stones and the edges of land worn smooth by water. Carved into a new shape. Falling apart.
Everything died, in the end.
Finally, unwillingly, Eli broke the silence. She spoke quickly, forcing the words from her lungs like a surgeon deftly tugging stitches from an old wound.
“It is repurposing me. The Heart. It’s not meant to be in a flesh-and-blood body. Even a magic one. Even a body built to be stronger than any born creature. I’m falling apart. That’s why my blades keep rejecting me. I’m scared every time I touch one that it won’t recognize me.” She swallowed. The truth left an ashy and bitter coating on her tongue.
Tav waited.
“I’m used to being breakable. I’ve never been invincible. I mean, I sometimes felt like I was, but I’ve been hurt before. My body is vulnerable to strong emotions. The magic that burns bright in me burns fast, and I get tired more quickly than many other people. I am fast and strong and then tired and weak. I’m thorn and glass and bone and blood. I’m all of it. All of their strengths, their weaknesses, their fragilities — that’s what I was made of.
“I’m me, and I’ve always been me, and I’m more me now than I was when I was trapped by Circinae and the Coven. I’m her, and I’m the Heart, and I love this body. But the Heart is too much; it’s more powerful than me, and the longer I’m carrying it the more I’m losing myself. It doesn’t want to … you know? It doesn’t want to hurt me. We agreed. We joined. It came willingly. But it can’t help being what it is, and my body isn’t strong enough. I’m running out of time, Tav. And I’m worried I’m going to fall apart before we fix this. Before” — her voice cracked — “the Earth dies. And the next time I vanish, I might not come back.”
Across the river, a leaf fell from a maple tree and into the water. It was caught up in the liveliness of the flow, and danced its way downstream, a sliver of white and silver shimmering against the dark for a brief moment, and then it was gone.
Tav exhaled heavily. Their heart was beating faster, louder, drumming in Eli’s ears.
What were they thinking? Weak. They’re thinking I’m weak. They’re regretting —
“So we go back to the City of Eyes,” said Tav. They turned to face Eli. Their words rang with conviction. They gripped Eli’s shoulder, their fingernails digging into the soft skin around her clavicle. “We bring the Heart home.”
Thirty-Eight
THE HEIR
The land was smooth and red as a wound.
It was getting easier to cut into the material of the universe. Kite knew this meant that the City of Eyes was falling into ruin. Reality was becoming nothing, meaning falling into dust. A world without its Heart beginning to fall apart.
The Beast was panting heavily, and he bled from a dozen scratches. Kite wished she had left him behind.
“Oh no,” Cam groaned, turning onto his back. Kite could see the way his body struggled to breathe, to cling to life. Humans were nothing if not tenacious. She had learned that years ago, when a girl child had clawed her way into the Children’s Lair. “Not this again.”
Kite leaned over him, her eyes glowing like headlamps. “Are you dying?” she asked curiously.
Cam opened one eye, then the other, and then shut them again. “It’s creepy when you look at me like that.” His voice was thin, as if his vocal cords were vibrating through sand.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m a specimen for you to study.”
“Aren’t you?”
“I’m a person.” He opened his eyes again and glared at her. “Personal space?”
Kite drew back, head tilted to one side. “Are all humans this touchy? I thought it was just Eli.”
Groaning again, Cam sat up. “My pebbles are all dirty.” He frowned.
“I didn’t know humans cared that much about cleanliness.”
“Well, I do. I have a reputation to uphold.” He sighed deeply and then winced. “I think I cracked a piece of limestone.”
“I expect you’ll erode away eventually,” said Kite.
“Are you always this morbid? No wonder Eli likes you.” Cam stumbled to his feet.
“You carry the shield.” Kite nodded at the knife in his hand. “Eli must think highly of you.”
“Wasn’t much use back there, was it?”
“It’s not the blade’s fault you fainted.”
“Breaking a blood bond takes a lot out of you.”
“I’ve never tried it. I believe it would kill me.”
Cam stared at her.
