The Lightning-Struck Heart

by T. J. Klune

  He tugged on my hand gently, but insistently. I turned over on my side as he was silently asking me to do, facing him. His position mirrored mine. His eyes searched my own. He opened his mouth once, then closed it. Then, “I meant what I said.”

  “When?”

  “When I told you that the only thing I wished for was you.”

  “You bastard,” I whispered. He took our joined hands and brought them to his face. I felt the brush of his lips against my skin, and I fought against jerking my hand away. “Do you want to know what it felt like?”

  “What?”

  “The lightning.”

  “I don’t—”

  “It hurt. At first. It wasn’t like the first time when we were running from the Darks and the fire geckos. It was so easy then. So easy to take it in, wrap it around my heart, and then send it away. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t do it again. Why it wasn’t working.”

  His face was so close to mine. I could feel his breath on my skin.

  “And then something was different. Morgan and Randall knew why. I didn’t. Maybe I should have. I just felt it. In my bones. In my blood. It whispered to me and said that everything was going to be all right. That I could do this. That I could do what they were asking of me. And then Randall gave me more than he should have. Far more than I should have been capable of handling. But it didn’t matter because the moment it touched my skin, I knew it was different. That I was different. I knew I could do this. I knew what I was capable of. I took it in and it wrapped itself around my heart and it was scary and devastating and wonderful all at the same time. It felt of power and strength and I could have kept it there. No matter how much it hurt. I could have kept it there for myself. But it wasn’t mine to keep. It wasn’t mine to hold. So I let it go. I let it go and I didn’t understand. Why it felt so familiar. The electricity crawling along my heart. I didn’t understand at first. But I do now.”

  “What is it?” he whispered.

  “It’s you,” I said, not able to look away. “It’s how I feel when I’m with you. How I think I’ve always felt. You’re my lightning-struck heart. It doesn’t matter about the cornerstone. It doesn’t matter about who I am or who you are. Not to me. I think it would have always been this way for me. Even if we had never escaped the slums. Ever since the beginning. Ever since I’ve known you, you’ve struck my heart, and now I have to let you go because you’re not mine to keep. I need someone that I can be strong for. But I need someone who can also be strong for me.”

  “Sam,” he croaked out, his eyes bright and wet.

  And I’d said enough. I’d had enough. Much like Randall’s lightning had arced along my heart, Ryan did the same. The only way forward was to expel him from me because he wasn’t mine to keep.

  And because I would never get another chance, I brought his hand to mine, brushing a kiss against his knuckles. I said, “I think I love you.”

  I let him go.

  I pushed myself up.

  I looked up at the stars, but I did not make a wish.

  And then I left him there in my mother’s secret garden.

  CHAPTER 29

  The Lightning-Struck Heart

  “WELL,” GARY said, as he posed in front of the floor-length mirror in my room. “Today should be a fuckton of shits and giggles.”

  “That was sarcasm,” Dad explained to Tiggy. Tiggy still hadn’t quite got the hang of sarcasm yet, even though Gary had made it his singular mission.

  “Got it,” Tiggy said, frowning in concentration. “Fuck shit giggles sarcasm.”

  “Tell me I look pretty,” Gary demanded of Kevin, who was sticking his large head through the window. We were lucky my room was at the back of the castle so that Kevin could actively participate in discussions of a serious nature, like telling Gary he looked pretty.

  “You are like the sun and the moon combined to make a creature so astoundingly beautiful that the world can’t even contain its—”

  “Oh my gods,” I groaned as I lay on my bed. “Gary, make him stop.”

  “Never,” Gary said. “This is probably as close as I will ever get to looking like a princess so I expect to be treated as such.”

  I looked over at him and tried not to laugh because he would find ways to eviscerate me. Gary had gotten it into his head that his mane and tail needed to be permed for the wedding, and he looked like two gigantic cotton balls were consuming him from either end. They were adorned with dozens of fresh flowers and his hooves had been painted blue and silver to match the flowers. I wanted to tell him I thought he looked like he should be working for Mama, but I valued my testicles so I kept my mouth shut.

  “Exactly like a princess.”

  Gary narrowed his eyes. “I can tell when you’re being sarcastic, Sam Haversford. I’ll have you know that big hair is in this spring. Everyone has it.”

  “Gary, no one else in this room has it.”

  “I would have big hair,” Mom said. “But I don’t have the lady-balls to pull it off.”

  “I have lady-balls,” Gary said. “I’m a fierce fucking princess.”

  “You look like you pooping snowmen,” Tiggy said.

  I laughed until I cried. Which, on a day like today, I sorely needed.

  Gary glared at me.

  I laughed harder.

  It felt good.

  So when the knock came at the door, I was as ready as I could ever be.

  My mother fussed with my dress robes, brushing off invisible things so she could calm me (and most likely herself).

  She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. She whispered, “We get through today and then we’ll move on to the next. I am so proud of you, my son.”

  I hugged her close.

  Pete waited for us on the other side of the door. He smiled quietly at me, his armor shining, the decorative sword and scabbard fastened at his side. “Morgan and Randall are waiting for you in the lobby. The ceremony will begin shortly.”

  I nodded and let the others out before I followed. I looked back at Kevin. “They’ve opened the Great Doors to the gardens,” I told him. “There should be more than enough room for you there.”

  “Should I light something on fire?” he asked. “Like Justin? Or the wedding party?”

  “No fires,” I said. “This wedding is going to go smoothly and then we’ll get drunk and I’ll be sad and then tomorrow, I’ll wake up and start again.”

  “I am also proud of you, my son,” he said seriously. “In addition, your ass looks great today.”

  And that was something I would never get used to. “Ew, and you’re still not my dad,” I called out, closing the door behind me.

  I could hear the thrum of people seated in the throne room. The King’s Court, the heads of state, dignitaries from across Verania. At last count, there was to be over a thousand people attending the wedding of Grand Prince Justin of Verania to Knight Commander Ryan Foxheart. They’d all been seated earlier, waiting for the procession. The King would speak, Randall would speak, and we’d all sit in stifling heat wishing for death. I could hardly wait.

  I descended the staircase to the lobby and saw my family waiting for me. Morgan looked stately, his robes a deep burgundy, his beard newly trimmed. Randall looked like an ancient pimp, his robes a bright green that I was sure Justin was going to take great offense to. He wore a large hat with a wide brim. A purple feather stuck out the top of it. I thought it was awesome.

  “About time,” Randall grumbled. “You’d think it was his wedding day by the way he was dallying.”

  “Hello, Randall,” I said. “Make sure your women give you your money so you don’t have to pimp slap them.”

  Gary snorted. It came out violet and chartreuse, and I thought it paired with the flowers in his mane very well. Only a gay unicorn could match his uniquely visible sarcasm to his floral accessories.

  Randall narrowed his eyes. “And what foolishness do you speak of now?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “Tell me, Randall. What str
eet corners are yours, because I don’t want to overstep my bounds.”

  “I’m onto you, boy,” he said. “You think you’re being clever, but I’m onto you.”

  “Ah,” I said sympathetically. “It’s hard out there for a—”

  “And this is probably indicative of how today is going to go,” Randall said with a sigh.

  “Is it?” Mom asked. “This certainly bodes well for today’s events.”

  “I don’t think that’s quite what he meant,” Dad said to her.

  “I’m maintaining a positive outlook,” she said. “Denial is such a comforting place to be.”

  “Well,” I said to Morgan, “I tried to get drunk first, but some people wouldn’t let me.” I glared at my parents. And Tiggy. And Gary. “You know I’m much more tolerable when I’m intoxicated.”

  “Wizard Spaghetti Face,” Tiggy reminded me.

  “Okay, that was one time. And Betty and I bonded.”

  “You called her a sexy grandma,” Gary said.

  “In my defense, I’d had a lot of wine.”

  “And you think that makes you tolerable?” Randall asked me. “Canoodling with elderly ladies?”

  Canoodling, I mouthed at Gary, who just shrugged.

  “Maybe we should consider a bit of a reeducation of your young apprentice,” Randall said to Morgan.

  “Please don’t hit me!” I said, cowering away from him. “I’ll have your money by the end of the week. I promise, Randall. I’ve always been your best girl.”

  “I fear it’s already far too late,” Morgan told Randall. “Run. Save yourself.”

  “Sam,” Randall tried again, “I know that today is going to be difficult—”

  I scoffed, cutting him off. “I’m fine.”

  They all stared at me.

  “What?”

  “Sam,” Mom said. “It’s okay to not be fine.”

  “Good to know,” I said. “I’m fine. You all act like I’m going to break down in inconsolable tears or do something stupid like interrupt the service when it gets to the whole speak now or forever hold your peace thing.”

  “Well,” Gary said.

  “I’m not. I wouldn’t do that!”

  They looked slightly guilty, and I suddenly had a very bad feeling.

  “And none of you can say a damn thing either.”

  “Yeah,” Gary said. “Okay. Sure. Get right on that, kitten.” He batted his eyelashes at me, and I was almost ready to coo at him when I realized he was wiling me with his ways.

  “You foul temptress,” I hissed at him. “How dare you try to woo me with your powers of beauty! I shall not be tricked!”

  Gary preened. “Did you hear that, everyone? Sam says I have powers. Of beauty.”

  “None of you can say a godsdamn thing,” I said, making sure to glare at each of them in turn. “We are not going to ruin someone else’s wedding day just because he should be marrying me instead as I’m obviously way cooler and have good teeth, awesome cheekbones, and a sunny fucking disposition.”

  “His disposition isn’t very sunny right now,” Gary whispered to Tiggy.

  “Oxymoron,” Tiggy said.

  “Well said,” Gary replied. “He is a moron.”

  “You lucky you pretty.” Tiggy said, burying his face in Gary’s ridiculous mane. “Feel like bubbles on my nose.”

  “Listen to me,” I snapped. “You all need to keep your mouths shut! There will be no talking. Well, except for Morgan because I think he’s supposed to talk. And Randall, since he’s officiating the entire ceremony. They can talk. None of the rest of you can.”

  “I can talk if I want to,” Dad said, looking slightly defiant.

  “I’m serious,” I said.

  “Dear,” Mom said. “Look. He’s serious. That’s his serious face.”

  “You’ve made that same face since you were three,” Dad said. “That’s how we knew you were serious.”

  “Like the one time he was six and came home to tell us he was seriously going to kiss Derek?” Mom said.

  “Or that other time he was almost eight and said he was seriously considering opening up a business to sell toast and hats and wouldn’t I like to invest?” Dad said.

  “Or when he was ten and he told us that he was seriously upset because we wouldn’t let him jump off the roof naked to test the wings he’d made out of a bedsheet and couldn’t we just see how serious he was?”

  “You were a very strange child,” Randall said.

  “I am nothing but a product of my upbringing,” I said, frowning at my parents.

  “Thank you,” Mom said, beaming.

  “And you’re welcome,” Dad said.

  “You’re lucky I love you,” I told them. “Because otherwise I’d be ordering you to the dungeons for treason for telling the naked roof-jumping bedsheet story.”

  “Pooping in buckets is a small price to pay to be able to tell that story,” Dad assured me. “Especially when I get to tell the part about how you were bare-ass naked when you were trying to argue with us.”

  “If you try that now,” Gary said, “I bet you’d win more arguments.”

  “Please don’t try that with me,” Randall said. “I don’t know how much shockingly pale skin I can handle.”

  “Gods,” I muttered. “How did we even get here?”

  “That’s a question I find I ask myself often around you,” Morgan said, patting my arm.

  And then the announcement horns flourished brightly and all conversation ceased. Pete poked his head back out into the throne room. “We’re about to begin,” he said. “Joshua, Rosemary, if you could follow me please. I’ll show you to your seats.”

  “I can’t believe the King got Justin to agree to allow you and Tiggy in the ceremony,” I told Gary. “I thought for sure he’d nix it.”

  Gary rolled his eyes. “I told him it was considered the greatest of fortunes to have a unicorn and a half-giant walk down the aisle together. That it would bring him and his marriage luck and prosperity.”

  I was slightly put out. If that was true, I would have hoped Gary and Tiggy would have instead refused to even show up.

  “Stop pouting,” Gary said. “I just made that up so you wouldn’t have to stand there by yourself looking sad and alone and afraid and sad.”

  “And handsome,” I said.

  “Let’s not push it.”

  “Said the talking cotton balls,” I muttered under my breath.

  “What?” he asked sharply.

  I smiled sweetly at him.

  Mom and Dad kissed me on the cheek before following Pete through the Great Doors.

  We lined up in front of the door in order of our entrance. Gary and Tiggy, then myself, then Morgan, with Randall following up in the rear. Ryan and Justin were being kept in separate rooms on either side of the lobby. Ryan would enter first, followed by the King and Justin.

  Gary was whispering something to the Royal Announcer and I knew that it was probably nothing good. I tried to kick him in the ass, but his tail was so curled, I couldn’t seem to find it.

  “Tiggy said it looked like he was pooping a snowman,” I whispered to Morgan who covered his mouth to hide the laughter.

  Randall smacked us both on the back of our heads.

  The Great Doors were pushed all the way open.

  A thousand people stood as one, and the throne room fell silent.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer called, voice echoing off the stone. He was reading from a card. “Introducing, the most fiercest unicorn in existence, Mrs. Kevin the Dragon, aka, Gary.”

  Gary coughed loudly.

  The announcer rolled his eyes.

  Gary coughed again.

  “Gary the Magnificently Beautiful who is universally adored by all and whom everyone aspires to be because he is so amazing,” the announcer said, sounding aggrieved.

  “Oh my gods,” I muttered.

  “Thank you!” Gary said quite loudly. He began to walk down the plush red carpet toward th
e throne. “Hello,” he said, bowing his head at those standing on either side of the aisle. “Hello there. Hi. Ooh, girl, that hat is to die for. Work it. Hi. Hello. Salutations. Honeybunch, you’re at least fifty, not twenty. Cover up just a little bit more. This is a wedding, for fuck’s sake. Keep it classy. Hello. Hi. Oh goodness. Greetings. Oh my gods. That scarf. Where did you get that scarf? Really? At Medacio’s? The one off Grover Street? You know, I went there once and the service was just terrible. The salesgirl was just rude and I complained and got a twenty percent discount. Gods, what was her name? Leslie? Cochina? Mai Ling Wong? I don’t remember. It’s not important. But I just swore I wouldn’t go back there after—what? Oh. Right. Sorry. Sorry, everyone! Sorry. I tend to forget what I’m doing when I’m talking about scarves. It’s a sickness, I dare say. Hi. Hello. Good afternoon. Hello. Hi. Hi. Hello.”

  He finally reached the throne.

  “Tiggy,” I whispered. “I swear to the gods, you better get next to Gary as quick as you can and not stop. Do you understand me? No stopping to talk to anyone.”

  “But Gary said—”

  “Tiggy!”

  “Tiggy never gets no fun,” Tiggy grumbled.

  “We’ll have fun later,” I promised him, though he didn’t seem to believe me.

  “Presenting,” the announcer called, reading from another card, “at nine-and-a-half feet tall, weighing in at six hundred forty-seven pounds. He is revered as a giant of impeccable taste and immaculate grooming. He’s—okay, I’m not going to finish this.”

  “Say it!” Gary shouted.

  The announcer sighed. “He has captured our hearts, filling us with love and joy and we are better off because he exists. Ladies and gentleman. The half-giant, Tiggy.”