I shift so I’m standing between Ker and the castle entrance. A quick glance behind me reveals Alex pressed up against the back wall of the room, jaw hanging open in shock. Great. This mess is exactly why I never get involved with humans. I lower my defenses, care for someone, have some nice moments, and now, it’s all wasted. I’m going to have to flush his memory so that he won’t remember any of this day. Our kiss and everything else will be lost. It’s no more than I deserve for bringing a human into my world, but the thought only pisses me off even more.
“First Thanatos and now you,” I say to Ker. “It’s been a regular parade of death around here lately.”
Ker doesn’t even acknowledge my remark. “Give me the boy,” she repeats.
“Nope.”
“He’s dying anyway. Let me have him now, and I can spare you the pain of becoming attached to him. I’ll keep him safe until it’s time for you to kill him.”
“You can’t touch him. Alex’s death will be peaceful, and Thanatos will take him to Hades. It’s already written in our books.”
Ker laughs. “You think so?” she asks, tilting her head and considering me with those black eyes. “You might be wrong about that. Books can be changed, can’t they? Pages removed, words crossed out, that kind of thing?”
“I’m never wrong in matters of fate or death,” I say. “What’s written cannot be unwritten. Now, why don’t you and your disgusting groupies go on your way? I don’t want a fight here today.”
“Nope,” Ker mimics me. “I may not be able to kill your little toy, but I can take him from you. Who knows what you might give me to get him back. Your shears, perhaps?”
“Never. I wouldn’t trade anything for a mere human, least of all my shears.”
Her face changes from mockery to fury. “Then we have nothing more to discuss.”
She raises into the air with a scream, and the rest of the Keres echo her. Their battle cry is worse than listening to five thousand fingernails being dragged down a chalkboard. There’s nothing else to do except fight them. They’re never going to let Alex leave that cave without snatching him, and I’m not leaving him.
I glance back at Alex one more time. Fear has replaced the shock, and now he’s shaking. Backing up, I move closer to the castle’s entrance, seeking cover for just a moment under the archway. I reach for the bracelet I always wear on my right wrist. It’s a typical gold cuff with a large, oval opal set in the center, but when I press and slightly turn the opal, it springs open, revealing a small compartment. Inside is a glittering black powder. I take a pinch and cast it up into the spring breeze.
The wind whips up, dead leaves and pine straw blowing into my face. The strong wind pushes the Keres back just enough to give me the precious seconds I need to ready my defenses.
The wind condenses into a solid-looking column, and then collapses into a single spot on the ground. There’s a moment of stillness before the wind is suddenly expelled upward as a rapidly growing black cloud. It quickly separates into four separate clouds. Each morphs into a single hell horse. They hover above the ground, waiting for instructions.
A hell horse is an awesome thing to behold, unless you are the poor soul on which it is about to be unleashed. Each horse is jet black with red eyes, leathery wings, and a flaming mane and tail. I can only tell them apart because I’ve known them for centuries and can recognize the subtle variations in the size and colors of their flames. These horses—Alastor, Abatos, Aeton, and Nonios—belong to Hades, and they usually only serve him. Fortunately, Hades is kind enough to lend them to me in times of extreme need. An attack by the Keres definitely qualifies.
I lift my arm to the sky. “Go,” I scream at them. Three of the horses immediately engage the Keres. The Keres scream in outrage, and I smile. First point to my side. The remaining horse lowers himself to the ground and canters up to me. He bows low and I climb onto his back, grabbing the reins.
“Good to see you again, Aeton,” I say, affectionately patting his neck. Aeton nods once, and we take off to join the fight. We’ve fought the Keres many times over the years, and we work well together.
“There’s a human boy in that castle. We have to keep the Keres from taking him,” I tell Aeton.
He whinnies loudly, shouting instructions to his brothers. I don’t speak hell horse, but I know he’s passing my message on to them because they instantly close formation and fly closer to the witch’s castle.
To anyone watching from the ground, we would seem to be outnumbered. Four horses and a sword-wielding goddess shouldn’t stand a chance against several thousand furious, taloned, and fanged Keres. But the simple fact is that we’re better and smarter than they are. The Keres are fierce fighters, but tactics and strategy aren’t their strong suit. We’ve never lost a battle, and I don’t intend for today to be the first.
Aeton carries me higher into the center of the Keres’ formation. I strike out with my sword, cutting down Keres by the handful. I can’t kill them, unfortunately, since they are immortal like me, but I can hurt them badly enough to remove them from the fight. Aeton gets his share, too, shooting them down with the flames that spew from his mouth.
The other three horses repel the Keres that are trying to get to Alex. So far the horses aren’t having much trouble keeping the Keres out of the castle, but I can see that Ker is sending more of her troops down there in an attempt to overpower them. Alex is watching the fight from the window, eyes wide with terror.
I’m too busy watching out for Alex, and I fail to see the Kere coming toward us until she lands behind me on Aeton’s back. She sinks her talons deep into his unprotected rump. Aeton screams in pain but never falters. Years of practice lead me to lean well right as he brings his head around from the left and blows her off with a jet of flame.
“Good boy,” I say, patting his neck in approval.
All the remaining Keres are now focused on the castle, leaving us with little to do up here. Aeton flies me down to rejoin the battle. I’m searching for Ker. If I can get to her and take her out, the rest of the Keres will give up. They are weak and directionless without their leader.
I spot her battling Alastor at the entrance to the cave. She’s on his back, her talons sunk into his neck to keep him from turning his head and shooting her off with flame. She can’t kill him because Hades’ horses are as immortal as the rest of us, but just as I can wound her troops, she can hurt him.
Aeton and I fly downward, sword slashing and flames spewing as we cut a path to the ground, but we’re too late. With a wicked twist of her arms, Ker breaks Alastor’s neck. I cry out, and Aeton whinnies in rage. I know that Alastor will mend, but I also know he feels the pain of the break. He collapses to the ground. Ker jumps off his back, flying into the castle.
“Down,” I scream at Aeton.
He dives to the ground and I dismount, ignoring the flips in my stomach caused by the rapid descent. Aeton flies back up to join his remaining brothers. I don’t worry about them; the loss of their comrade will spur them on to a quick rout of the remaining Keres. Alex is now my concern.
I race into the castle, sword held high and ready to strike. Alex is sprawled in the far corner. His eyes are closed, but I can see the rise and fall of his chest. He’s alive, but out cold. There’s a bloodstain on the side of his head and a matching one on the wall behind him. Ker must have tackled him and whacked his head on the wall. Now she’s sitting on his chest, her talons poised to rip into his body.
“Don’t do it,” I scream at her.
“You can’t stop me.” She laughs in triumph. “Come any closer and I’ll make it harder on the boy than it has to be. You know he won’t die. Not yet. I can’t kill him, and I can’t take his soul because his fate dictates that he must live a while longer. But I can wound him to the point where he will suffer in a hospital on life support for weeks until it’s time for you to kill him. Unless you want to give me your shears, that is.”
I lower my sword. My instinct to a
ttack her, wound her, wars with the desire to keep Alex safe. If I go after Ker, she’ll hurt him. But if I don’t do something, she’ll still hurt him. I hesitate, thinking. I need to buy a few moments to formulate a good plan.
“There’s nowhere for you to go,” I tell her. “Even if you hurt him, you can’t get out of here without going by me. Your troops are being taken out as we speak, and there’s no one else to help you. You can’t get out of here without me and the hell horses taking you apart.”
“So? You can’t kill me. I can wound him… and your heart as well.”
I shrug. “You could do that. You can wound him, and then I’ll do the same to you in return. Or, I might tear you into so many pieces that it will take you a solid year to put yourself back together.
“Wanna risk it?” I ask her, lifting my sword in challenge.
Her eyes flash from me blocking the entrance to the barred window, and she shrieks in frustration. “The Oracle prophesied your downfall! You’re supposed to willingly give me your shears to save the boy.”
“That’s what you get for believing a crazy woman. You kinda have to choose here. Getting out in lots of pieces versus me letting you go with just a slight injury. Hurt him, and it’ll be the little pieces route.”
“I’m not worried. A little time spent mending is nothing compared to watching you suffer. What I want most is to hurt you, and hurting this boy seems to be the best way to do that. Of course, I can be reasonable. If you give me your shears, I’ll let the boy go without harm.”
“Not gonna happen, so stop asking,” I say. “I’m not stupid enough to trade my power for a human life. I’d like to save him, but he’s not worth that. You can have him.”
I watch as she tightens her talons a little more on Alex’s chest, checking to see if I’m bluffing. She draws blood, but I don’t react. I stand still, sword arm relaxed by my side, letting her believe that I don’t care.
When she sees I’m not going to come after her, Ker turns hungry eyes to Alex, giving me the opening I need. I throw my sword side-arm style, sending it whirling like a propeller across the room, straight at Ker. She turns her head back toward me, but it’s too late. My sword cleaves her neatly in two at the waist. Black goo splatters Alex and the wall behind him.
She lets loose one scream of pain before falling silent. I walk toward her and retrieve my sword.
“Didn’t think that through, did you?” I taunt. “I don’t know how you think you’ll ever get my power if you can’t even defeat me in a simple fight.”
She’s struggling to poof out of the castle. Poofing is more difficult when you’re not all in one piece. “What’s coming won’t be a simple fight,” half of her hisses. “I’ll have your power, this boy, and any other human I want before it’s over,” she says. “It is foretold…”
“By a nutcase. Yeah, we covered that,” I say.
Ker finally manages to get both halves of herself out of the room and off to whatever hellhole she’ll use to recuperate. Alex is still breathing, but I need to make sure the fight is over before I tend to him.
Outside, I see that Aeton and the others have just about finished off the remaining Keres. As expected, most fled when Ker went down, but a few diehards are still fighting. I call Aeton down to me, mount up, and fly with him to finish off the others. A few sword strokes later and we’re done. We return to the ground, and I slide off Aeton’s back.
“Thanks,” I say to him and the others. I pet each one on the nose. “Take care of Alastor.”
Aeton whinnies his farewell to me, and the three horses turn to their fallen brother. Each places a hoof on Alastor’s flank. Aeton lifts his head to the sky and lets out a cry. The others join in until the sound of whinnying is so loud that I have to cover my ears.
Hades responds to their call by turning them back into black clouds and pulling them down into the Underworld. They’ll be as good as new after a few days, but Hades isn’t going to be pleased that I let one of his horses get so badly hurt.
I wish I could be as certain that Alex will be okay after today. It’s too late to do anything about it now, though. After scanning the sky to make sure no more danger is approaching, I turn and go back into the castle. I jam my sword into the ground near the door so that it stands hilt up, ready to grab if need be, and walk to where Alex lies.
I crouch down next to him and lift his shirt so I can examine the damage done by Ker’s talons. The wounds aren’t bad; she broke the skin, but he won’t need stitches. Still, he needs a good dose of disinfectant. Who knows where Ker’s talons have been. The head wound isn’t serious, either. The bleeding has mostly stopped, but I use the edge of his shirt to wipe away the excess. He’ll have a goose egg tomorrow, but he’ll live.
There’s nothing I can do for him now except wait for him to wake up. I sit and lean back against the wall, pulling Alex toward me. Resting his head on my lap, I stroke his hair until he begins to come around.
“It’s okay,” I murmur as he begins to move. “They’re gone, and you’re okay.”
Finally, he opens his eyes and looks at me. I mentally cross my fingers and hope that he won’t remember anything. Maybe I’ll get lucky and the combination of his brain tumor and shock will have erased his memory.
I watch while he takes in our surroundings. Confusion comes first, followed by awareness, and finally, recollection. Damn. Today isn’t my lucky day.
When he struggles to sit up, I help him. He looks down at the blood and goo splattered on his clothes and the wounds on his chest. Then he looks at me and takes in the blood splatters on my clothes. Finally, he looks toward the cave entrance and sees my sword standing at attention there. Turning to me again, he asks the only reasonable question.
“What the hell was that?”
He follows it with the only other reasonable question and the one I’m dreading more than any other.
“And what the hell are you?”
My heart breaks a little at the betrayal in his voice. I was a fool for thinking I could keep my true self a secret.
“I always knew you weren’t normal,” he says. “Always running off, missing school, never talking about yourself except in the most general terms, never mentioning your family. I knew there was something you were hiding. But I never dreamed it would be this, this—” He falters, unable to find the right word to describe what he’s just witnessed.
“Disgusting? Frightening? Horrifying?” I try to finish for him, hanging my head in shame. “You’re right. It’s all of that and more.”
He thinks for a moment, and I see the most amazing transformation pass over his face as he processes what just happened. He actually smiles at me.
“No, no. The word I’m looking for is badass. I had no idea. I mean you were so cool with that sword. And those horses! That was so awesome.” His smile is huge now. He’s thrilled by what he’s seen, not scared.
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, so I end up giggling a little hysterically. Here I am expecting recriminations, fear, and hatred, and he’s complimenting me? This guy is crazier than most of the gods. I force myself to stop laughing and to treat this mess with the seriousness it deserves.
“You’re not traumatized? Scared? Afraid to be in the same room with me because I might do to you what I did to the Keres?”
“No. I’m a dead man anyway. Even if you intend to kill me, it doesn’t matter, does it? But I would like to know what you really are and what that was about.”
I hang my head. “I’m not supposed to tell you,” I say, knowing the right course of action is to flush his memory immediately, not engage him in conversation.
“Hello,” he says, motioning to the still-bleeding wounds on his chest. “I’m the one with holes in me, here. I deserve to know the truth, don’t you think?”
He’s right. Even if I can’t let him remember it forever, in this moment, I owe him the truth.
“You’re not going to like me when I’m finished,” I warn.
&
nbsp; “I’ll judge that.”
I inhale and decide to begin with the simplest yet hardest fact. The one that will turn his admiration of me into hate and fear.
“My real name isn’t Sophie. It’s Atropos.”
When that doesn’t get a reaction, I press on. “I am the third goddess of fate. I am the one who cuts human lifelines and ends your mortal lives.”
“From Greek mythology, right?” Alex asks.
I nod.
“That stuff isn’t real,” he scoffs. “Greek gods don’t roam the Earth. You’ve been reading too much Percy Jackson. What are you, really? An assassin of some sort?”
I shake my head. “All the gods are real. We just keep our existence quiet. After Jesus Christ entered the picture, people didn’t want us around. But we’re all still here, still controlling your lives.
“Those things I was fighting? They’re the Keres. Death spirits,” I clarify when he looks blank. “The hell horses belong to my uncle, Hades. Zeus is my father. And I am, as I said, a goddess of fate.”
He thinks about this for a moment. I watch him work through the denials in his mind. Ultimately, what he’s just seen and survived has no other explanation, short of hallucinogenic drugs, and he knows it. He just has to come around to acceptance. I wait.
“You’re supposed to be an old hag. We read about her. You,” he clarifies, shaking his head, “in freshman lit. You’re supposed to be old and wrinkled. But you’re beautiful.”
“Well, I am old, at least,” I say. “I’m about three thousand years old.”
“You don’t look that old.”
I shrug. “That’s immortality for you. But thanks for the compliment,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“You know what I mean,” he says.
“I know. It’s just amusing to me when I see these myths of me and my sisters as wrinkled old crones. I don’t even know how or when that story got started.
“I think the humans started portraying us as old because it’s easier to believe only old people have that much power over life and death. It’s harder, I guess, to think of young women as the arbiters of fate. Young people, particularly women, aren’t supposed to have that kind of control. Plus, it’s easier to hate an ugly old hag than a pretty young woman. And everyone hates me,” I say.
Alex shakes his head again as though trying to clear it of moths or something. “So if you’re an immortal goddess, what are you doing in high school?”
“Blending in. Three women who look like kids but who aren’t in school attract attention, something we avoid.”
“So when you go running off, you’re—” He stops and waves his hands in the air, unable to say it.
“Running home to kill people, yes,” I say, completing his thought. I wait, knowing the worst part of this situation is about to dawn on him. I don’t have to wait long.
“Ker said you would kill me, so you know when I will die.”
I nod. “Yes. On the assigned day, I will cut your lifeline and end your life.”
Alex is silent, and I let him think. I brace myself for his reaction. This is where my badass turns into betrayal.
“When will I die?” Alex finally asks.
“I won’t tell you that. It doesn’t really make a difference, does it? You’re better off living each day as it comes without that knowledge. Trust me. You’re not the first to ask, and you wouldn’t be the first to regret the knowledge.”
“Can you at least give me a general idea? Will I get to graduate? Will it be tomorrow? Do I get another couple of years?”
The desperation in his voice cuts me. I want so badly to ease his mind, but I know there is nothing I can say that will ease the knowledge of impending death. Tell him it’s soon, and he’ll become depressed. Tell him it’s later, and he’ll worry about it until then.
“Sorry, no,” I shake my head. He must see something in my eyes because he jumps up and starts pacing the small room. There’s a slight limp when he walks, which I assume is from Ker tackling him to the ground.
“Soon enough,” he says.
I watch him pace, knowing there is nothing I can do for him. Comfort from Death is no comfort at all. He goes to the window and looks out at the Yellow Brick Road.
“So are you the one who gave me cancer?” he asks without turning to me.
“No, that was my sister. But I am the one who decided that you would die from it. Lacey stamped you with both cancer and an early death. Letting you die from it was the easy choice for me.”
“Well, it’s certainly not easy for me. And there’s no way to change it? To something maybe less painful or quicker?”
“No.”
He turns to face me. “Why me?” he asks. It’s an age-old question, asked by every human who ever got a raw deal from the Fates.
“I don’t know why you’re dying young. I’m not privy to Lachesis’ reasoning. I tried to find out, but she won’t tell me. There is a purpose, though. Lachesis has to adhere to Zeus’ master plan for the universe. Everything she does fits into that somehow,” I say, as if that could possibly be of any comfort. It sounds noble to say that death has a purpose, but it doesn’t matter to the dying. Dead is dead, no matter the reason.
“Up on the mountain, when we were talking about my mom, you could have told me who you were, and yet you didn’t. You let me believe you were just a normal human who had nothing to do with it. But you killed her,” he accuses.
“That’s true,” I say. No point in sugarcoating the truth. “I did snip her line, and I let her die from cancer, too. But it was her time, and I had no choice. That’s the part you have to understand. I have no choice in who I kill and when. Only how, and that’s not much choice at all.
“Even if I had known that I would meet you and become friends with you, or more than friends,” I amend, “I still couldn’t have done anything differently. Just like I can’t change anything that will happen to you.”
He remains silent, glaring at me. I should shut up, but I can’t. I have to make him understand the incomprehensible.
“If I had told you then what I am, you wouldn’t have believed me. And if you did, you would have hated me. Just as you’re hating me now. Aside from being forbidden to discuss my immortal life with a human, I also know there is no way to make what I am and what I do acceptable to you.
“Humans hate and fear death, so they hate and fear me. I accept that. It’s why I never get involved with humans. However, you were different somehow, and I wanted to spend time with you. I also wanted to keep you far away from my role as the Death Fate. I just wanted to be Sophie with you and forget that I am Atropos for a while.”
I snort sarcastically after I say that. “What I wanted were two things that can never be. This is my fault,” I say, waving a hand to encompass the mess in the room.
“Obviously,” he says, looking again at the goo on the walls. He stands there, looking down at me, head cocked to the side as if studying a dangerous snake. I drop my head, unable to look at the hurt and confusion in his eyes. I don’t expect him to understand or forgive me for anything, and I don’t want to see his back when he walks away from me in disgust.
The minutes pass and he doesn’t move. Neither do I. The next move has to be his. I stay hunkered down inside myself, braced for his rejection. Finally, he takes a deep breath and crouches down in front of me. He lifts my hand from my lap and cradles it between his.
“I don’t hate you. What you are is not your fault. You didn’t choose it, did you?”
I shake my head, but I still don’t look at him. “On my seventeenth birthday, Zeus gave me my job. He didn’t ask me. He didn’t even ask my mother. He decreed it would be so and it was.”
“Okay, then. The person I see is still the same Sophie that I met a few weeks ago. You don’t kill for pleasure like those things that attacked us. You do a job that has to be done. You’re right. I don’t like your job. But I don’t hate you.”
I look up at him, unable to believe the wor
ds coming out of his mouth. “But I’ll kill you. I killed your mother. Eventually, I’ll kill everyone you love,” I say. I don’t think he understands the reality of the situation. “How can you accept that?”
He shrugs. “I’ve known for a long time that death is coming for me. I’ve dealt with that truth. That it should come packaged as a beautiful girl who I care about is an unexpected bonus. It’s comforting to know that I’ll be done in by someone who cares for me, not some faceless grim reaper.”
I smile up at him. “You’re crazy, you know that?”
“It’s been mentioned,” he says.
“I’m sorry that I have to kill you. And I’m sorry you got dragged into this fight with the Keres.”
“So what was that all about?” he asks. “I’m sure there’s a good reason why I’m all bloody.”
“Unfortunately, there’s not. You got caught in the middle of an ancient feud that’s recently kicked up again.” I give him the condensed version of my ongoing fight with the Keres and how Thanatos recently delivered a warning from them.
“I’m sure they can’t get my power, but I can’t stop them from using people like you as leverage to get what they want. It’s part of the reason I tried to stay away from you. I didn’t want to make you a target.”
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t give them what they wanted,” he says. “The thought of those things controlling death is definitely bad.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“They won’t come for me when I die? I heard you mention Thanatos. He’s not with them, is he?”
“No. The Keres only come to those who die violently. They feed on the blood. Zeus created them that way. Don’t ask me why,” I say with a shrug, anticipating his next question. “Thanatos comes for those who die quietly. He can be scary, but not violent. He’ll escort you to the Underworld, and then leave you in the care of Hades.”
“Well, that’s something,” Alex says. “Will you be with me when I die? Do you, like, come in through the window and kill me or something?”
“No, I’m not the Tooth Fairy. Your lifeline is stored at my house with all the others. I work there.”
“Oh. But can you be with me?”
“Nope, sorry. That’s against the rules. There’s just too much chance of your family or friends being there. I can’t be exposed that way.”
“Even if I sent everyone else away?”
“Even if,” I say.
“Will you think about it, though? Try to find some way? If I have to die, I’d rather you do it in front of me and not hide away in some room.”
“I’ll think about it,” I say, knowing that I cannot and will not do what he asks. Not only because it’s forbidden, but because I am too much of a coward to face him at the moment of death.
“So I suppose ever getting to see you work is out of the question, too?”
“Absolutely. That is really off-limits.” I shudder at the thought. Who would want to watch one person kill other people, even if it’s only by snipping their lifelines? It’s not like I stab people or cut their hearts out or anything, but what I do is killing all the same.
The thought of Alex watching me grab a fistful of lifelines and chop through them all at once makes me ill. It’s bad enough he knows about it without having him see the cold, mechanical way I deal out death. If I’m not a monster to him now, I would be then.
“We should get going,” I say, standing up. “I don’t think the Keres will be back today, but we should still get out of here. It’s getting late.”
Although it’s just late afternoon when we emerge from the castle, I’m so weary that I’m surprised it’s still light outside. It seems like it should be much later. The late day sunshine filters through the tiny spring leaves and twinkles on the remains of the Yellow Brick Road. The day has lost its magic for me regardless.
Alex leans heavily against one side of me as we walk, exhausted by the events and his injuries. I keep my sword fully extended in my other hand until we reach the car. Before we get inside, I slice my palm and rub the blade through the blood, shrinking the sword. I hang the pendant back around my neck. When I look up, I see Alex watching me.
“That’s the most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen,” he says.
I raise an eyebrow at him. “Seriously? After today?”
“Well, okay, one of the most bizarre,” he amends. “Why do you have to do that?”
“I don’t really know,” I say, looking down at the blood dripping from my palm. I retrieve a tissue from my pocket and apply some pressure to stop the bleeding. “It was just one of the rules Zeus laid down when he allowed me to have a sword. When Zeus declares a rule, you don’t argue.”
“I can’t believe that you’re Zeus’ daughter,” Alex says. “The daughter of the most powerful god in the universe made out with me in Oz. It sounds like a weird dream.”
I laugh. “Well, just remember that I’m one of Zeus’ many daughters. It’s nothing special, believe me.”
“It’s pretty cool to me,” he says.
I unlock my door and then lean across the seat to unlock his. He slides in, fastening his seat belt. I stick the key in the ignition but rather than start it, I turn to him. “Before we go, there’s one thing I have to ask you,” I begin.
“What?”
“You are not supposed to know anything about what you’ve seen today and what I’ve told you. I’m supposed to flush your memory so that you remember nothing. But I don’t want to do that,” I hasten to add when his eyes widen in shock.
“Memory flush? I’m not too jazzed about the idea myself,” he says.
“There are two reasons I’d rather not. Well, three,” I amend, thinking of the selfish reason. “First, if I do it, you lose all memory of today.”
“Including our kiss?”
“Including that.”
“There’s no way to keep that one memory? I might be okay losing the memory of the Keres, but that kiss is one I’d really like to keep.”
“Nope. You’d always wonder what happened before or after that moment. I can’t leave you with fragments because trying to find the missing pieces will make you crazy. It’s an all-or-nothing deal.”
“What are the other reasons?” he asks.
“Second, doing the memory flush sometimes takes out more than I intended. It’s not usually a problem, but your brain is already compromised by the tumor so the results might be unpredictable. I don’t want to deprive you of more than necessary, and it’s a real possibility that I might.”
“Thank god for the brain tumor, then,” he says.
“Ha-ha,” I say. “The last reason is purely selfish on my part. I think you deserve to know the truth.”
“In other words, I’m a dead man, anyway, so I might as well know how it’s going to happen?”
“No. Well, not entirely. If you’re going to hang out with me, you deserve to know exactly who and what you’re hanging out with. It’s been bad enough these last few weeks trying to keep my secret. If we’re going to have any sort of relationship, it needs to be based on honesty, not a pile of half-truths and lies.
“If you want to walk away after what you saw today and what you know I am, I’ll flush your head and you’ll remember nothing of today or the last few weeks. I’ll just be one of the girls in your classes at school. That is what I would and should recommend. You don’t want to be hanging out with death, after all.”
He thinks for a moment. “What do you want?” he asks.
“What I want is often what I cannot have. If I were free to make any choice, I’d choose to be with you, openly and with full knowledge. But I’m not free and I’m supposed to abide by certain rules, the most important being that humans know nothing of my existence. I shouldn’t even be having this conversation. I should just flush you and be done with it. I’m selfish, though, so I’m giving you the choice.”
He is silent, mulling over what I’ve told him.
“I choose you,” he finally says. “Ev
en knowing who and what you are, I still choose you. So please don’t flush me because I want to remember today. I want to be with you. Until I can’t anymore.”
I exhale the breath I’d been holding while waiting for his answer. I’m flabbergasted that he’s willing to stay with me, but I’m also happy. Sad. And worried. Alex has turned me into an emotional mess. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, but wonderful at the same time. Like a shirt with a tag in it that annoys you to no end, but in which you know you look fantastic.
“Okay. In exchange for me leaving your brain unmolested, I need you to swear that you won’t tell anyone about what you saw and heard today. You can’t even tell Emily or your dad. I’m still just Sophie if anyone asks. That’s as much for my safety as yours.”
“I swear. Your secret will go with me to the grave. And that won’t be long,” he says.
“Don’t joke. If you tell anyone, I will flush your head to the point where you won’t even remember starting at Asheville High School.”
“You can trust me.”
“I know. That’s why I’m giving you the choice when I’ve never done so for any other mortal.”
I start the car and pull away from the Land of Oz. Alex looks tired, so I don’t try to make conversation. Instead, I turn on the stereo and tune to my Native American flute music playlist. It’s not long before he’s asleep. No wonder, I think. He’s had the kind of day that would wear out a healthy human, never mind one who’s already terminally ill.
As I drive into the twilight, my thoughts turn to the choice I gave him and the fact that he chose me. I shouldn’t have given him that choice. Not that I regret his decision, but it was wrong and selfish of me to allow him to choose.
Broken Fate Page 12