Night Shine

by Tessa Gratton

  The sorceress smiled. “You’ll learn.”

  For Kirin she had a strand of black pearls to twine with the green and white pearls he’d worn when she captured him. “Are these spelled?” he asked suspiciously.

  “No,” the sorceress said. “They were a gift to the spirit of the Fifth Mountain centuries ago, birthed from freshwater oysters in a country so far east even the Selegan could not travel there and back in a year.”

  He took them and wound them around his wrist and hand. Kirin inclined his head in polite thanks before allowing Sky to help him step off the small dock jutting out from a low cave mouth and onto the bobbing barge.

  When Nothing stood alone on the dock, the sorceress held out a small green speckled pear.

  Nothing stared at it.

  “Here,” the sorceress said gently.

  Lifting her gaze to the sorceress’s face, Nothing frowned. The pear clearly meant something, but Nothing didn’t understand.

  Strain pinched at the edges of the sorceress’s mouth; tiny black feathers rippled along her cheekbones and back into her hairline, as if she did not quite have control of her form. These gifts, including the barge, their clothing, and the food, had been conjured in an instant, when the sorceress was exhausted. It had to be the depleted state of the heart in the mountain’s core. Nothing felt a prickle of guilt. But what could she do? She needed to go home with Kirin. Then, after he was safe, find a way to stop the sorceress from killing. “Will you be well?” Nothing asked.

  The sorceress hesitated, peering at Nothing as if she could see something beyond the physical world. Then she said, “Go, so that the Selegan can return to me, to find me a new heart for my ailing mountain. Then I will be well enough.”

  Nothing crossed her arms. She shivered in the mountain breeze. “You can’t take more hearts. It’s wrong. And you have no excuse that you’re looking for your demon any longer.”

  The sorceress did not move except to blink. The pear gleamed in her outstretched palm. “You cannot say what I can or cannot do. What power have you over me?” The way she said it made Nothing realize the sorceress wanted Nothing to have an answer. To claim power over her.

  “None,” Nothing murmured. “Whatever we were in my previous incarnation, we are no longer. I don’t know what… could be. But right now it’s only the right thing to do.” She tilted her head, staring at the sorceress. Beautiful, strange, with her one green eye and one bone white, and shadow-feathers under her skin. Nothing remembered the volcano of laughter inside herself, and the power she’d felt when she’d helped kill Skybreaker. That was the way to discovering all the colors shaded into the night sky. But it was like a dream. Now that she was leaving.

  The sorceress said, “I will die without a heart, and the mountain crack.”

  “You have a heart,” Nothing insisted.

  “Only half of one.”

  Nothing snorted.

  Surprise slid across the sorceress’s face before she smoothed her expression, but Nothing didn’t understand why the sorceress should be surprised. Why should she act like there’d been a connection between them? It had only ever been magic, curiosity, and Kirin.

  Nothing said, “Promise me, on that heart. No more murder.”

  “A half promise on a half heart?”

  Nothing frowned, wary. “Promise.”

  “You have nothing left with which to bargain.”

  Nothing left, Nothing thought sourly. Only herself. “What if I promise to return?”

  “Do you?” The sorceress curled her fingers around the base of the pear, black-lacquered nails delicate against the skin.

  “I will try,” Nothing said slowly, wishing there were a way to reassure the sorceress, but she couldn’t lie about what she didn’t feel. Yes, there was more magic for her to experience, and she did love the Fifth Mountain. She’d been cheated of her final two days here, after all. But she had to see Kirin through his investiture ritual.

  The sorceress stepped closer and pressed the pear into Nothing’s hands. “Then I will try to wait for you, little demon. But do not stay away too long. I do not want to die, and without a heart, I will.”

  Cradling the pear, Nothing nodded. The sorceress seemed to want more, but Nothing spun away and hopped onto the barge. It rocked heavily in the river, and Nothing threw herself forward to remain on the deck. Water splashed, rippling and winking.

  Kirin approached, took her elbow, and lifted a hand in farewell.

  Nothing turned, leaning back against his chest where she belonged. Even given everything he’d kept from her, this was where she needed to be: with her prince, whom she loved more than anyone.

  Together they watched the sorceress standing upon the dock as the Selegan shimmered in the sunlight, waves as bright silver-white as scales, and the barge pulled away.

  She kept watching as the barge picked up speed, as wind tugged at her hair, flicking it across her eyes. She held the pear, staring at the dark pillar of black and green that was the sorceress, until they slipped around a bend in the river and she was gone.

  The old lava field surrounded the river here: emerald-green moss and bright grass over the rolling cold lava. Flowers bobbed and bent, and the wind smelled like summertime. Nothing remembered the first moments she’d spent on that lava field, with Sky, and how she’d loved the land immediately. She’d felt like she belonged to the pretty remnants of destruction.

  She would miss the Fifth Mountain until she managed to return.

  “Nothing,” Kirin murmured, and drew her toward the front of the barge. She tucked the pear into the pocket of the long wool jacket she wore and tightened the sash at her waist.

  Sky stood at the prow, one booted foot up on the low rail. It was a long, rectangular barge that sat shallowly against the river, edged with benches that doubled as storage and with a hold under the deck keeping their food and blankets dry. In the center a small pavilion rose, hung with drapes that could be pulled for privacy or against rain, and they had an iron stove squatting like a four-legged spider on the deck. Smoke trickled out of the little holes in the lid.

  Nothing took a flat, canvas pillow from beneath the pavilion awning and set it beside the iron stove. She sat cross-legged and watched the smoke slick upward, wavering against the blue sky. The barge swayed gently as it flowed along the back of the Selegan. Kirin joined Sky at the prow. They both wore similar traveling clothing to Nothing: dark trousers, shirts, wrap jackets, and wide sashes. If it rained or grew cold, they had cloaks, and for the arrival at the palace each had a set of very fine silk and a box of paint pots. Nothing should have asked for a game to pass the time. Or anything to keep her hands busy, and her mind.

  Especially her mind.

  It seemed like she was forgetting something—but she couldn’t quite pin down what. Her mind turned itself over, persistent and careful, looking for shadows and clues. But Nothing was probably just asking for trouble, now that they were going home.

  She let herself doze, thoughts thinning, as she stared at the smoke and beyond at the banks. The lava field gave way to rain forest on both sides. Then there was no bank at all, only tall, mossy trees and thin red alders, and heavy, curling firs that dipped toward the Selegan. The water rushed over boulders, tearing at the damp mud and roots. It sounded like a song.

  The sun arced nearer and nearer to the canopy. Sky knelt and reached over the rail to touch the water. “Selegan,” he said. “Selegan, will you rush safely with us all night, or should we find a place to tie down until morning?”

  Wings of water lifted to either side of the barge, spraying Nothing with a fine mist; rainbows sparkled in the light. She smiled. The dragon was so beautiful.

  Kirin wiped his hands back through his damp hair, scowling slightly.

  The Selegan River said, “I can fly easy with you all through the night.”

  Sky said, “Thank you, dragon.”

  He opened the panel into the hold and drew out a bag of cheese, handing it off to Nothing, along with o
atcakes and dried meat. Then he pulled free a flask of wine.

  They melted cheese onto the cakes, setting them against the stove, and shared the picnic as the sun turned the sky violet and pink.

  That night Nothing slept curled against Kirin, while the prince leaned into Sky. The stars burned and the moon rose late, waking her with its brightness. Nothing tucked her blanket around herself and pressed her nose to Kirin’s back. She listened to the river flow, the cry of frogs and whispering breeze through thick, wet canopy.

  She already missed the weird corridors of the mountain, the crystal ceilings and glass-smooth obsidian. She missed the strangeness of the patterns in the Fifth Mountain, though she’d only been there for four days.

  Nothing rolled onto her back and dug the pear from the pocket of her wrap jacket. It gleamed with tiny golden freckles in the moonlight. She rubbed it against her cheek, then put her mouth to the smooth skin. It smelled bright and rich. Nothing bit down, tearing a huge chunk free. Juice dripped onto her chin, and she closed her eyes, sinking into the crisp sweetness. It broke over her tongue, perfectly soft between her teeth, and she swallowed.

  Darkness consumed her as if she’d fallen suddenly asleep, but when she opened her eyes she stood atop the Fifth Mountain, on a balcony curved out from a brightly lit cavern. The sorceress stood with her, hands on the elegant obsidian rail, gazing out into the night.

  Nothing gasped quietly, for it felt real, not a dream.

  The sorceress turned, brows up. “Nothing.”

  Moonlight spilled over her loose tricolored hair. She wore a thin robe wrapped around her, and a long line of her bare skin showed from neck to breast. Including the thin scar over her heart. She was barefoot.

  Nothing gaped. She felt the cold wind and smelled the icy evergreen air of the mountain. Behind her warmth billowed out from the cavern.

  “You must have taken a large bite,” the sorceress said, leaning coolly back against the rail as if the balcony were a throne.

  “The pear?” Nothing’s voice was hoarse.

  “The pear.”

  “It’s magic. I’m really here.”

  “Part of you.”

  “How long?”

  “Hard to say. But it will work with a smaller slice, enough for you to see me, speak with me. No matter how far from the mountain you travel.”

  “Why?”

  “So you can visit me.” The sorceress frowned. “Do you not wish to?”

  Instead of answering, Nothing asked, “Is this what we were making with the patterns cut into the floor? The long-sight spell?”

  The sorceress slid her hands along the rail and nodded. Draped only in the robe and moonlight, the sorceress appeared human. Just a young woman, not the wife of a demon, not a changeable witch familiar to dragons and unicorns.

  Nothing couldn’t believe she’d flung herself at Skybreaker for the sorceress.

  But she’d been so sure it was the right thing to do. She’d not been sorry at all. She’d laughed! She remembered her glee, the triumphant flavor of her laughter. Is that what it meant to be a demon? Joy in violence?

  What if Skybreaker had killed the sorceress? No other girls would be killed for their hearts. The mountain would be free, and so would Nothing be.

  It didn’t hurt Nothing to imagine such a thing, though she’d thought she was growing to care for the sorceress. Had it merely been proximity and the vibrations of the mountain heart?

  “I miss the mountain already,” she said, to cover her sudden discomfort.

  The sorceress smiled flatly. “I have missed you for so long I hardly notice anymore.”

  “Not me. It isn’t me you’ve missed,” Nothing insisted. “I’m different.”

  “Yes, you are different. I like it, though.” The sorceress shrugged one shoulder. “Come back. Leap off the barge and return to me. Let the prince go home at the side of his heroic lover.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to go back to the palace. I have to. I belong there, with Kirin.”

  “You love him.” The sorceress’s voice burned.

  Nothing stopped breathing for a moment, caught by the vicious word love. It seemed as though the sorceress were having this conversation with someone else—someone beloved. Nothing said, “Of course I do. That was never in doubt.”

  “Isn’t it?” The sorceress’s eyes cut up, dangerous.

  “Do you think my true name could make me love?” Nothing stepped closer, then stepped back again. “When I break his mastery over me, I won’t love him anymore?”

  The sorceress narrowed her eyes. “I did not think when I found my demon again that it would love someone else.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I thought you were remembering.” The sorceress looked away. Her lithe body turned slowly, gracefully, away from Nothing. She stared out over the balcony, every piece of her tense.

  “Oh,” Nothing whispered. “I… remember the volcano. I remember power. The feel of it. That’s not love.”

  The sorceress was silent.

  Nothing clenched her fists, wishing she weren’t so cold. Why couldn’t the memory of fire and magma warm her again? She said, “Isn’t it good? That I can love someone else? If I was a demon and you gave me new life, isn’t it good that I have such a capacity for love? I love the red-wash of the palace walls and the rumble of the great demon. I love Whisper and the sound of wind through the smoke ways. I love the Lily Garden. And Kirin, yes, and Sky, too, now. Or maybe I have for a long time but didn’t realize it. I fell in love with the lava field and the mirror lake the moment I saw them.”

  “But not me.”

  “That doesn’t mean… I never could.” It felt cruel to pretend Nothing could make such a promise. She said, “Every time I think about love, I think of something else that fits within it. Have you truly never loved more than one other thing?”

  The sorceress pushed off the rail, stalking toward Nothing. “My one thing filled me up. I was consumed, and that is where power was born. On the edge of devastation, from the desperate urge to be more, to make more.”

  “That sounds like obsession, not love,” Nothing whispered. “It sounds frightening.”

  “Yes,” the sorceress whispered back, dragging the word into a tender hiss. “Frightening, exhilarating.”

  Nothing’s pulse raced, knocking through her blood like thunder. The sorceress’s pupils elongated, turning bloodred. Her teeth were jagged shark’s teeth, and she reached for Nothing with a hand tipped by curved black talons. She skimmed their points against Nothing’s cheek, teasing and sharp. Nothing shivered, flushing because she liked knowing the slightest pressure, any sudden slip, and those talons could flay her skin from her bones. She liked it very much.

  “Kirin doesn’t do this to you. Your old life, old friends don’t. There is nothing in the palace of the empress that draws you like I do.”

  “That’s not true,” Nothing said, and the words did the trick: the talons sliced into her. Tiny lines of pain flared.

  The sorceress whispered, “Don’t you want to be loved more than anything else in the world?”

  Nothing shivered. Blood slowly slipped down her jaw and onto her neck. The sorceress shifted her hand so that it was the soft pad of a finger that touched Nothing, then drew the finger toward Nothing’s mouth.

  “When you are far from me, remember what you were and what you long for,” the sorceress whispered, leaning nearer.

  For a moment Nothing imagined allowing herself to be what the sorceress promised: not a demon, but a lover. A consort to be cherished and touched. She could be a part of something magnificent, and not only a shadow, a word whispered here or there, a bargain of information, a flash of bare feet, but an intrinsic part. The core. A core made in tandem with someone else.

  She remembered splattering magma and stone so hot it creaked and cracked. A restless heat, aching to expand, to explode. Her heart was a volcano, waiting. She did want it.

  Her
eyes flew open.

  Nothing was on the barge, splayed on her back, panting up at the stars and hanging moon.

  The feeling was gone. Nothing’s hand curled around the pear as if she could hold on to the feeling. She clutched it against her stomach, eyes shut, and calmed slowly down. Her cheek stung, and touching it, Nothing discovered she bled slightly. Only a smear, from the sorceress’s talons.

  Nothing ached with emptiness. For the first time she felt like she had only half a heart.

  But she didn’t understand why.

  The barge swayed like a cradle, and the wind and frogs were her lullaby. Nothing tucked the pear into her pocket again and sat up. Carefully she crept to the prow and huddled there, staring out into the wind. The moon wavered on every ripple of the river, like a thousand silver-white scales.

  THIRTY-ONE

  IT WAS BORING ON the barge, especially by the second day. Nothing did not tell her companions about the pear or her visit with the sorceress. She knew it had been real, but she kept it as her secret.

  The barge moved faster than the rest of the river as the Selegan pulled them along with its flight. Soon they saw smoke signs trailing up in the distance, from villages in the northern rain forest, and once or twice people fishing from the banks or from small hanging docks were startled as the barge sped past.

  The three of them spoke sometimes, reminiscing occasionally about random childhood memories or discussing what might have happened in the weeks they’d been gone. Sky and Nothing told Kirin again everything they knew of the imposter’s return, and he told them every dull, slow detail of his captivity, interspersed with a few terrifying encounters with the sorceress before Nothing had freed him.

  Nothing did not like speaking of the sorceress.

  She asked Kirin about the investiture ritual.

  “I have told you most of what I know,” he said. “When I was born, I was named as all heirs are named—”

  “Kirin for the Moon,” Nothing said.

  “And called a much better name as I grew up and showed who I am.” He grinned. “I am to remain pure, my insides untouched in order to be a perfect vessel for the Moon. And as you both now know, the Moon is part of the name of the great demon of the palace. At my investiture ritual I will be presented to the court and, alone with my mother and the demon, given the demon’s full name. I’ve never been told more details—I’ve not needed to know them. Probably there is a priest who knows, and I assume my father and the Second Consort, as becoming linked to the demon is the only reason to contain them to the palace. Once I am invested, I cannot leave the palace again.”