by Ana Mardoll
"You're delirious from blood loss," he tells me, his voice dry and flat. "That's not a good sign. I need a healer over here," he barks.
"Rose, Rose!"
Clarent and Lavender are here, kneeling over me. Kieran must have laid me on the floor, though I didn't notice him doing so. Am I blacking out? I feel so sleepy. Above me there is the sound of arguments, people rushing to and fro. Someone moves my shoulder, pressing a cloth hard into the mangled wound, but the pain is distant and far away.
"First aid isn't going to help! Where's Joel?"
"I've raised him on his cellphone. Worth is driving as fast as nee can."
"That won't work! Remember? He couldn't heal her before!"
"They did, they just used—"
"—her poison. But he had a whole syringe. Right now she's drained; I don't think he can get any more from her."
"Maybe he can get a little, a few drops. Anything!"
"Clarent!" Lavender's voice washes over me, loud and imperious. "Use it. Make me like her. Now."
I blink up at the riot of colors that whirl around me. Clarent is holding something waxy and plastic in his silver hands while Lavender stands close by, looking up at him as he studies her face. Everything is so bright now with the gray portal gone, but even allowing for that she seems much more intense than before. The green that snakes over her arms is darker, the purple in her hair is deeper. When her head turns to look at me, her eyes are impossibly vibrant; a bright green that instantly grips my gaze.
No!
She throws herself forward, her sharp fingernails tearing at her own lips. White fluid wells out of the cut, dripping on my face and into my mouth; then she's straddling me, kneeling over me to hold me close, her lips pressed hard against mine in the first kiss we've ever shared.
Muscle and sinew knit back together instantly in my shoulder, the wound closing in the space of a breath. My mind and vision clear, fresh blood springing up in my veins to replace all I'd lost. My hands come up instinctively to grab her shoulders, pushing her away, praying that it's not too late to save her. Maybe I don't have enough poison left in my system to hurt her; maybe she'll be sickened but not killed. Please, don't let me kill her.
She doesn't want to be pushed away; she fights me for a moment, determined to get the healing fluid from her lips into my system. Then it seems to sink into her that if I'm fighting I must be better, and she pulls away. Kneeling over me, staring down with those impossibly bright green eyes, Lavender giggles. "Rose, I thought you wanted to kiss me," she teases, relieved tears welling in her eyes.
My own vision swims in response and I blink rapidly. "Not if it's going to kill you, Lavs," I whisper, slapping her thigh gently where she straddles my waist. "You scared the hell out of me."
She leans down, her lips hovering inches above my own. "Likewise," she whispers softly. Her lips are already healing as I watch, the white fluid working as well on her as it did on me. "But I don't think you can hurt me now, Rose," she says. Her gaze moves to Clarent, still clutching the dead faery's arm; it is dry like an old plaster cast, the skin flaking away in chunks which disintegrate into white dust. "I think we used up all the extra magic, though."
Then she leans forward and kisses me gently. I freeze, old fears seizing my heart, but she's right; I can feel the way the magic moves within me. Little motes of light gather eagerly at my lips, only to turn away when they meet identical magic on the other side. I can't infect her because she's already a carrier of the same disease.
Tears spring up again and my hands wrap around her back, moving up through her hair, pulling her closer into our kiss. I need her, I want her; I don't ever wish to let her go. Then Clarent is beside us, stroking my hair gently, and I pull him down into our kiss; for a long minute there are only her lips and his and my own, kissing without any danger.
"We're here! Where is she?" The doors to the gym burst open, and I hear Worth's warm voice. I jerk in surprise at the sound, banging my head painfully against Clarent's forehead. Joel and Worth stride into the gymnasium, hardly seeming to know what to do with the broken glass, the streaks of blood, and the nearby dead body that looks more like a diseased mountain than anything human.
"We've worked out an immunization plan," Joel rasps proudly, brandishing a thick textbook.
"Is that one of my books?" Athena shrieks, her eyes locked on the tome.
He ignores her, too caught up in his triumph to hear. "Now we just draw what we need to heal her, and—" He stops and peers at me. "Well, she looks fine. Celia, you said she was dying."
"She exaggerates terribly," Elric says dryly. He nudges one of the bandaged fighters with his foot. "I don't suppose you could get to work on everyone else? Kieran has broken a few ribs, though he's trying very manfully to hide it."
Chapter 26
After that, there is chaos of a different kind: healing and cleaning and arguing and discussing. I ought to help, but Worth brings me a folding chair and orders me in no uncertain terms to sit and rest. Lavender and Clarent huddle close to me, their arms wrapped around my bloody dress. I should feel happiness or relief, but for the moment I'm conscious only of emptiness. I feel I've stepped out of my body and floated up to the ceiling, there to watch the crowd and myself within its noisy center.
We've only lost one person: the red-headed woman whose name, I now learn, had been Russet. The skeletons I'd seen on the creature's back hadn't come from our community; there is loud conjecture between Joel and Athena that they must have been eaten in the otherworld before the portal opened. No one knows how they had been hidden, along with the rest of the creature's gargantuan form, in his human guise; I wonder in a detached way if Hermit could tell us, but Celia does not disclose his existence to the group.
I can't quite believe we didn't lose more people, but I hadn't counted on Mina's ingenuity. After she'd seen the monster absorb Russet, she'd organized rescue crews: clever, fast altereds who could dart into the thick of battle and drag people back to relative safety before they could be captured and eaten. Some of the wounds had been deep and a few lives genuinely feared for, but Joel and Worth managed to patch everyone up. Given what Hermit had told us, I knew it was a miracle we'd only lost one.
Still, she had a name. Russet had a whole life apart from us, now cut short because of us—because Clarent had escaped, even though he hadn't meant to; because Lavender and I had killed the hunter sent to retrieve him. I want to believe we did the right thing, that we'd done the same for him as we would have for any other altered, but I don't feel easy. There's a fresh lump in my throat, and a new face and name to add to my nightmares.
There is argument over what to do with the dead faery, whose body takes up a good fifth of the room. Joel wants to keep it and even Worth looks tempted by the prospect of future research, but Celia argues that storing the corpse of a giant fae-monster for any length of time is just asking for trouble. Athena very helpfully points out that even if anyone had a garage big enough to hold the creature, squeezing it through the gymnasium doors would require an act of herculean strength. In the end, we all agree to send back the dead body to the otherworld.
The sticking point arises over what to do with Russet's body, and those of the skeletons found with her. Celia argues for sending them back with the dead faery, and provides calm persuasive reasoning about neighborhood dogs and why we don't bury people in our backyards. A young man named Rowan—thin, with soft freckles like Lavender and burnished bronze skin—barges angrily out of the crowd at this suggestion. Russet had been close to him and therefore the manner of her burial should be his decision, he argues; furthermore, she was one of our own and should not be sent back to rot in some faery's field.
I don't know how long the argument continues. My body leans into Clarent and Lavender while my mind observes numbly. People nod and murmur in agreement with Rowan, while others share Celia's concerns about secrecy and avoiding notice by the human authorities. Mina expands the discussion by pointing out in her soft way that the ske
letons, if they were altered as we are, deserve to rest over here also; whether they were people known to us or not is irrelevant. Ideology clashes with practicality until frustration and grief cause Rowan's wavy red hair to burst into hot flames that lick the air above him.
Elric comes up with a solution then, sending Mina to the church kitchens to scavenge old coffee canisters and Kieran out to his truck to fetch an armful of canvas tarpaulin. We spread the tarp on the floor and lay the bodies upon it. Rowan steps forward, tears in his hazel eyes and his hair glowing like soft coals. He concentrates on Russet's mummified corpse, and under his sorrowful gaze the body grows warmer and then still hotter, burning so brightly that we have to look away. After a long and painful silence, her body eventually collapses into a pile of smoldering ash. Her remains are gently transferred to a coffee canister which Rowan cradles to his chest while he repeats the process, turning his fiery attention to the bones of the strangers. As numb as I am, I can't judge how long the entire process takes, only that the sky outside is dark and the moon has risen high before the last body crumbles.
There is crying, and quiet words spoken over the remains. Celia takes the ashes of the strangers, promising to scatter them in the field behind her house. Then she insists that everyone step outside while she opens a portal to send the body of the faery back to the otherworld. After that, there is sweeping and mopping, and the setting of folding chairs in their places. The shattered windows can't be repaired, but Celia passes the hat for monetary donations to replace them. The most convincing of our sirens is set to work on an explanation involving a broken speaker and very loud music, littered with copious apologies. It will take a little money and a lot of magic, but the humans will be satisfied.
No one feels like having a proper meeting after all that, but Celia gives a quick speech. Clarent stands up to introduce himself quietly, and explains that his faery was the one I'd killed first—and that the second one had seemed wary enough of me to retreat. Wide eyes watch me through his speech; several of the altereds huddling in the safety of the hallways had seen my play-acting, and of course almost everyone had seen me kill the Elder Fae. Without mentioning Hermit, Celia simply says that the monster was a different kind of faery. As we have no way of knowing how the otherworld will react to his death, she urges caution: travel in groups, call in regularly to others, and keep eyes and ears open.
Maybe they'll never bother us again, whispers the hopeful part of my mind. Maybe they'll wipe us out in retaliation, suggests the depression. There are other voices too, just on the edge of my perception. These are the ones who tell me what my fingers say, who report on the tiny points of light that mark the virus within me. Am I spiraling further into mental illness? Or did the voices come from the faery whose magic I absorbed? Does Lavender hear them, I wonder?
Rowan leaves soon after Celia's speech, and others trickle out the doors behind him. No one seems to know the right mood to take. Some of the fighters, those who didn't know Russet, are loudly clapping each other on the back; there is talk of finding a bar to get drunk in. Others are more subdued, grappling with tonight's harsh reminder that although we have escaped captivity, we are never safe.
Some of the members of the community avoid our gaze as they leave; others make a point of gently hugging me, Lavender, or Clarent. Jing gives me a lopsided smile before quietly ushering Athena out, who is loudly explaining to anyone who will listen that she is taking tomorrow off, that the bookstore will be closed, and that she cannot be expected to work under these conditions.
Dakota's acknowledgment is more curt: a short nod and a few words. "Good job, Rose. I've got to get back and check on Anwaar. Don't worry about the dress; I didn't like it in the first place." I blink at him as he dashes off, wondering if he means Tox and if he and Elric have sorted out all the paperwork.
Elric punches me in the shoulder, bringing me slightly back to myself if only to feel annoyance. "Jeezus, Rose, can you work on a way to be useful that isn't suicidally stupid?" he grumbles. "You keep scaring everyone half to death." He gives Lavender a sly look. "Though you made out okay, I see; pun intended."
She gives him her most dignified expression, managing to glare down her nose while looking up at him. "A practical application of magic," she retorts. "I should think Worth and Joel will be interested in my thought process later."
He smirks at her, undeterred by her calm contempt. "I'm interested in your thought process now," he offers. "Especially as it pertains to a practical application of Rose's lips."
Kieran interrupts him, throwing a heavy arm over his shoulder. "We're going," he tells Elric sternly, offering me a look that passes for apologetic. "Sorry I got in your way back there. I didn't realize you had a plan."
I shake my head. "It's okay," I reassure him quickly. "You were trying to save me. Sorry I scared you."
He makes a face at the assertion that he was scared but is polite enough not to contradict me. "You're all right, Rosie. C'mon," he adds to Elric, whose expression has reached epic levels of smugness. "Celia says I'm to drive you home before you get into any more arguments she'll have to break up." Elric grins at him and shuffles out with minimal protests, just loud enough to ensure that everyone notices them leaving together.
Only then does Mina bustle over to us, wrapping her arms around my neck with affectionate abandon. "Sweetie, are you okay?" she asks, half-kneeling before me so she can study my face with her worried gaze.
I nod at her, trying to meet her eyes and not quite managing. "I'm fine," I assure her, "just a little overwhelmed. Tired, that's all."
Her eyes soften and she takes my hand gently. "That's normal, sweetie," she says, her voice low and warm. "You've had a long week. I'll talk to Celia and Worth; I think they're ready to let you go home now. Let Lavs and Clarent take you back to the apartment and spoil you with bath and bed and breakfast, okay? Get lots of rest and as many cuddles as you can, then call me in the morning and we'll do coffee." She glances at Lavender and Clarent then, holding their gaze. "That goes for all three of you. I'm always open for one-on-one talking times."
I can't help but smile at her. "I will, I promise. I'll call you."
Mina grins at me. "You'd better." Gently, she reaches to stroke my cheek with the back of her hand. "It's okay to have a lot of feelings about all this," she whispers. "We'll talk it through and have a good cry. You're going to be all right, sweetie." Leaning up, she kisses my cheek softly and turns to embrace Clarent.
She hesitates a moment with Lavender and then giggles. "Is it cheek kisses now?" she asks, her eyes sad though her smile never falters.
Lavender gives her a rueful smile of her own. "I think so," she admits, "at least for a while." She steals a glance at me, her eyes searching mine. "Joel mentioned some kind of immunization plan? And I kind of feel like maybe we might be able to control it with practice. But I think we should test that theory on something less valuable than you, Mina: Joel's lab-rats, or possibly Elric."
Mina laughs at this and leans over to peck Lavender on the cheek. "Call me anytime," she repeats, chuckling happily as she wanders back to the cleaning work.
Clarent squeezes my hand softly, his silver eyes gazing at us with fond affection. "Not that all that didn't sound wonderful," he says, his voice low and kind. "But do you actually want me to come home with you? I mean, I'd like that," he admits with a warm smile, a dark blush building under his silver cheeks, "but it's okay if you don't. You don't really need me anymore, and it's okay if you two want to be alone; I'll understand."
I stare at him, my eyes widening in surprise. Turning to Lavender for help, I see amused exasperation in her face as she rolls her eyes. "Clarent, of course we want you to come home with us," she protests with a laugh, smacking his arm gently. "If you really believe we only needed you for that, why do you think we didn't just opt for the metal dildo? Yes, Rose, we heard you and Mina!"
My face flushes and Lavender giggles at the heat in my cheeks. "Well, am I wrong?" she teases, dropping her
voice low and wrapping her arms around me from behind. She tucks her chin onto my shoulder to look at me with dancing eyes.
I shake my head, unable to stop a broad embarrassed grin from splitting my face. "No," I admit in a low whisper, "but you could be a little more delicate about it, Lavs."
I turn back to Clarent, my heart melting anew at the delight on his handsome face. Feeling bolder than usual with the strength of Lavender's arms around me, I wrap my own around his neck, pulling him closer and touching my forehead to his.
"I don't know if we need you," I tell him, my grin widening, "but I'm pretty sure we both want you with us very much. Only if you want that too, of course," I add, my old anxieties creeping back in. Worries I can't express dance through my mind. I'm a murderer. We cry at night, Lavender and I. There's so much about myself that I still don't know; so much about my past and my heritage that I need to learn. There isn't a single solitary Pop-Tart in the apartment.
He grins easily at my caveat. "I do," he assures me, his hands reaching up to encircle us both. "Let's go home?" With a sly smile, he adds, "Can I drive this time? I really do think I remember how. It's just a matter of which pedal you press, right?"
Epilogue
The Shadowy One watched as the Elder Fae came to collect the body of their own.
He had to watch from a distance, and this was vexing. He would have preferred to hear what they had to say, but the risk was not worth the potential reward. He had yet to meet a human or faery who could detect him as he moved through the portal space between the two worlds, but he would not bet his life that none of the Elders could sense his presence. Their relationship with the portal space was a strange one, and he was not vain enough to believe that the ones who spawned him had no insight into his talents.