Raging Rival Hearts

by Olivia Wildenstein

  It wasn’t the entire truth, but it was close enough. Keeping one hand on the wall, I nodded, then inched toward the doorway that separated the kitchen from the living room. Cat had her legs wrapped around my brother’s waist, and her face buried in his neck, and Ace was speaking to her softly. When he saw me, he smiled. I clutched the doorframe, afraid that if I let go, I might collapse with relief.

  He set Cat down gently and then advanced toward me. I was still holding on to the doorframe when he locked his arms around my neck and pulled me against him.

  He didn’t say a word to me, but his hands and the stiffness of his fingers told me everything I needed to know. That he was happy to see me again but sorry it hadn’t worked.

  As though fearing he might blink out of existence, Cat stayed close to Ace. After he released me, he slotted his hand through hers and didn’t let go once. Not when he greeted Derek. Not when he ate. Not when dinner was over, and Derek left to meet Milly. I didn’t think Ace would ever let go of Cat again.

  “Gwen and Menawa came back with me,” he said, as we sat on the couch, sipping warm tea.

  “The portal stamps took to their skin?” Cat exclaimed.

  Ace studied the steam that curled off the filmy surface of his beverage. “Yes. The lock made the new stamp stick.” Ace traced the circle slashed with five lines that adorned her arm. “We’re going to have to get yours altered next time you’re in Neverra.”

  He displayed the new one. It didn’t glow, but the pale trace of it was etched on his skin.

  “How will I get back in? I’m not Seelie,” Cat said. “Or does this new combination allow all faeries to enter Neverra?”

  Ace’s finger froze. Had he not considered this? “The portal is Seelie-made.”

  “Which means I can’t—I can’t come back…” Cat whispered.

  I scooted to the edge of the armchair, then gripped my phone and typed: Unless they put the combination back to what it was.

  “It’s more complicated than it appears.” Ace scrubbed his hand over his face. “That’s why we got stuck.”

  Maybe the book pages magically updated.

  Cat sprang off the couch and raced up to her bedroom where she’d stashed a few pages. She tore back down before I’d even exhaled the breath I’d taken. The thin, yellowed vellum she held shivered in her hands.

  Ace glanced at the page, but the ink was invisible to us. One look at her taut expression confirmed the symbol hadn’t morphed.

  “Shit,” Ace muttered. He tugged on Cat’s hand and she fell into his lap. He kissed her temple. “We’ll find a way. I promise.”

  I hated to think what would happen if they didn’t. Cat and Ace would have to live apart…She’d age. He wouldn’t, because it wasn’t as though he could move here. At least, not without facing my predicament. As he spoke to her softly, I thought of Kajika. He, too, wouldn’t be able to enter Neverra.

  I picked at my chipping pink polish.

  Maybe it wouldn’t matter to him, though. He said he’d stayed here for me, but perhaps he’d stayed because he simply didn’t want to go to Neverra, and drugs had loosened his tongue and made him say things he didn’t mean. Under the influence, people said lots of things they didn’t mean.

  I wondered if he’d be disappointed. At least worrying about this momentarily distracted me from the question mark of my own fate.

  I turned my gaze down to my ring finger. I peeled a long strip of polish off the nail. As it fell onto the carpet, I froze. My nails, usually a paler shade of peach than my skin, had turned the gray-purple of a raincloud. I gasped.

  Ace swept a fretful gaze over me. “Everything all right, Lil’?”

  I shot up to my feet, ears buzzing. I conjured up a small smile that jumped off my lips almost as swiftly as it had hopped on.

  Tired, I signed, before remembering what had prompted me to stand. I balled my fingers and kept them clenched at my sides as I disappeared into my bedroom.

  “Night, little sister.” I heard Ace say through the door.

  I headed to the bathroom and saturated a cotton disc with acetone, then scrubbed my nails energetically, hoping the purple shade would rub off along with the remnant of polish.

  It didn’t come off.

  I touched my eyelashes, pinched one, and tugged gently. It didn’t fall away, which momentarily reassured me, but my nails were purple, and I could no longer fly. It wouldn’t be much longer now. I clutched the edges of the sink and leaned against it, eyes closed, chest heaving with a mixture of slow breaths and rapid heartbeats.

  I had to leave Rowan fast—this time unaccompanied and untracked—because if Cruz caught wind of my failing body, skies only knew what he’d be capable of doing.

  25

  Goodbyes

  After reapplying a new coat of polish to hide my decay, I curled onto my bed and fought off sleep, fearing more than ever that I wouldn’t wake up. I thought of all the things I still longed to do, but that made me wistful, so instead I thought of all the things I’d gotten a chance to do.

  In the twilight of my bedroom, I ran through the short list of people I’d been grateful to meet in the last year. Cat, Kajika, Derek, Cass, Faith… The Prices had become family. My family.

  How do you thank someone for brightening your existence? How do you thank them for having made you feel loved and safe?

  Derek’s gift came to me swiftly. He loved sailing, so a lake boat would probably make him happy. I contacted my family’s assistant. Even though it was the middle of the night, she answered my text messages immediately—which was one of the reasons she’d stayed in my family’s employ for decades. The other reason was that she was part faerie. She asked me what her budget was, and I told her to get him the best boat on the market along with prepaid, lifelong maintenance. And then I asked her to book one of our private jets for a friend of mine and have it ready at lunchtime at the closest airstrip.

  After she confirmed all would be ready, I tapped my phone gently against the comforter. I couldn’t just leave without saying goodbye to the people who’d been kind to me, who’d been true friends, so I got out of bed, added a thick sweater over my nightie and then tiptoed into the living room and pulled on my boots, coat, and grabbed Cat’s car keys from the hook beside the door. Hoping that revving up the car wouldn’t wake anyone, I slid behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition.

  I had never driven a car before and realized I was sort of excited to be sitting behind a wheel. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was steering my own life. The snow had thankfully not turned to ice, but it did make the tires slip a little. I could get used to driving…not that I would need to, but at least I understood why a lot of faeries enjoyed it. I thought this until the car skidded and almost ended up sidling against a tree.

  My near-collision reminded me of the Eagle River fisherman whose boat now sat at the bottom of Lake Superior. When I arrived at my destination, I plucked my phone out of the cupholder and emailed my assistant to find out the identity of the owner so I could compensate him, and then I unstrapped my seat belt—a useless and so very human habit…a piece of tight fabric could unfortunately not save my life—and stepped out of the car.

  I rang Faith’s doorbell. A minute later, she drew her front door open. “Lily?” Her puffy eyes dragged over the darkened street behind me. “Is everything all right?”

  I nodded and held out my arms for the screeching, bundled package in her arms.

  “You came to babysit?” She snorted softly then gestured for me to enter before placing her son in my arms. “You do know he’s not sleeping through the night?”

  I nodded and mouthed, Go.

  “You’re sure you’re—”

  I smiled wide.

  “Okay. If he gets hungry, just come and wake me. And his diapers and pacifier are…”

  I nodded at everything she was saying, even though I was entirely focused on Remo, who blinked eyes larger than his face at me.

  When Faith returned to her b
edroom, her son had stopped fussing. I rubbed my lips along his peach-fuzz cheek, then kissed the birthmark at his temple, taking in the milky, warm scent of him deep into my lungs.

  My visit wasn’t completely selfless…wasn’t selfless at all, actually. My reasons for coming over were completely and utterly selfish.

  Once Remo had fallen asleep, I padded over to the kitchen counter upon which Faith had dropped her handbag. I checked that her bedroom door was closed, then rummaged inside until my fingers closed over her wallet. I extricated it, then unzipped it with my teeth and pulled out her platinum Amex.

  I snapped a picture of it, back and front, then returned the card to the wallet and the wallet to the bag. I sat on the couch, nestling Remo closer to my chest, and booked my hotel suite using the credit card information. Then I sent one last email to our assistant, asking her to open a bank account for Remo Sakar and to transfer five hundred thousand dollars from my account into it. The sum would cover what I’d borrowed from Faith and so much more.

  Finally, I set my phone down and focused wholly on the little guy.

  Remo slept five hours against my chest, keeping me delightfully warm.

  While he dozed, I caught up on all the social happenings in the world. Faith had a collection of tabloids that exceeded the CVS selection. Ace and Cat’s nuptials graced the front page of many a magazine, but I skimmed those articles, already privy to all the details.

  The only article I read was the one about me and my “bodyguard.” The reporter had clipped a picture from the gas station video and added it beneath the headline: Mystery Bodyguard Unmasked. Although the picture of Kajika and me was fuzzy, the shot they’d added at the end of the article wasn’t. It was a picture taken during one of his fights, in an arena that wasn’t the barn. Row upon row of seated spectators graced the background. Native American ultimate fighting champion signs record deal.

  Kajika had signed a contract to fight? When had that happened?

  The article went on about his brisk rise to stardom and the speculation that it had to do with being in my employ. And of course, that bit was followed by hearsay that we were secretly dating. I closed the magazine and picked up my phone.

  When did you become a professional fighter? I texted him.

  Even though the sun had barely peeked over the horizon, my phone lit up with an answer. A few weeks ago.

  Why didn’t you tell me?

  Because it does not matter.

  It does. It’s huge news. Congrats!

  Thank you, Lily.

  Question: do you remember the name of the boat we were on? The one that sank?

  Why?

  Because I feel bad and want to replace it.

  I have already taken care of it.

  Kajika.

  Lily.

  Let me at least pay you back.

  No.

  For a brief moment, I thought of insisting. Boats cost a lot of money. Money he probably didn’t have, even though he’d signed a contract, whereas I had so much and not a lot of use for it. In the end, I let it go.

  My brother and Gwenelda are back.

  I heard. How are they?

  Well.

  Happy to be home?

  The dot-dots lit up for so long that I expected an exhaustive answer. All I got was: Why are you up so early?

  I didn’t sleep.

  Is something wrong?

  I was incredibly thankful he couldn’t read my mind through the device. No. Everything’s great. I added a smiley face. Why are you up so early?

  I was catching up with Menawa.

  So did he hate Neverra?

  There was a long pause. You know the answer to that.

  AHA.

  He told me they failed to match your stamp.

  I shrugged, which made little Remo squirm. I waited until he settled down before answering, I didn’t expect anything different.

  What happens now?

  I leave. That was what would happen now. They’re working on a new solution. I rubbed the tip of my index finger over my thumbnail as though I could feel the purple color of it beneath the three coats of red varnish.

  Where are you?

  My heart spiked. Why?

  Because you are not home.

  I am at a friend’s house.

  Which friend?

  A friend.

  Why do you not want to tell me which friend?

  Because I don’t want you to come and pluck thoughts from my mind and foil my careful planning. I stared down at Remo. A male friend. Kajika would interpret my words very differently. I hated to make him believe I was with a grown man, but realized it would keep him away. I should get off the phone. He’s waking up.

  The hunter didn’t answer me. I wondered if he would ever answer me again or if this would be our last conversation. My throat felt thick with things remaining to tell him. I swallowed but it didn’t help loosen the lump. I kissed little Remo, and like in Sleeping Beauty, my kiss awakened him. The pacifier tumbled out of his mouth, and then the shrillest cry tore out of his lungs.

  A second later, Faith barreled into the living room, red hair crimped in wild waves. “Oh, God, I didn’t even realize the time! He must be starving.”

  I smiled, hugged him to me one last time, then released him into the cradle of his mother’s arms.

  Faith slid him against her breast to nurse him while I rose from the couch. I watched them a moment, my chest clenching at the idea that this was goodbye. I touched Faith’s shoulder and smiled down at her.

  “Lily, I don’t know how to thank you for tonight. I—” She glanced up at me then. “Are you crying?”

  I rubbed my eyes. Sure enough, my skin came back slick with tears. I mimed being sleepy, and that seemed to reassure Faith. I caressed the top of Remo’s head one last time, then turned away before I became a weepy mess.

  I sat in the car a long time before turning the key in the ignition. I needed to get my emotions under control before I headed home. When the sun rose, I drove over to Astra’s, where Cass was already setting up. I feigned having been sent to pick up muffins. While they finished baking, she told me she wanted to organize a bachelorette party for Cat. As much as I longed to be part of it, my staying would darken the coming days. I hugged Cassidy tight before picking up the cardboard box filled with sweet-smelling, gooey muffins.

  After I reached the cemetery, I walked around the jungle of headstones, reading each and every inscription, until I stopped by Ley’s grave. My name would never be immortalized in stone, but a flower would rise from my ashes the same way a liana of sparkling roses had emerged from hers.

  I hoped it would be a startlingly beautiful flower.

  26

  The Passengers

  “Where were you?”

  I spun to find my brother leaning against the porch railing.

  I signed Faith’s name, before he could jump to another conclusion.

  “Uh-huh.” He pushed off the balustrade and walked down to where I stood.

  It’s true, I signed.

  “I believe you.”

  You don’t look like you believe me.

  He cocked his head to the side, staring deep into my eyes. “How did you get to her place?”

  I pointed to Cat’s car—the only car parked in front of the house. Derek must’ve left early, or maybe he hadn’t come home.

  “You drove?”

  I nodded, proud.

  “How many pedestrians are going to be suing us for severed limbs?”

  I rolled my eyes but smiled.

  His stance loosened then. He peered past me, at the circle of graves enclosed by the leafless Rowan trees. The memory of the hunters awakening still haunted me. It hadn’t been the stuff of nightmares—Kajika and Gwen had ended up using warm corpses to awaken their dead relatives—but still, I’d found the process unnerving.

  The idea had been Cruz’s. He’d retrieved one of the two corpses in the metal fridge from Cat’s basement. The spirit still lingered in spite of the
fact that the man had died several hours earlier. He’d tossed the corpse at Gwen’s feet, suggesting they use it. Kajika had refused to risk the life of one of his tribespeople.

  What about an animal’s spirit? I’d asked him through our bond.

  He’d stared at the casket he’d unearthed but which still lay sealed. I do not think it will work, Lily.

  Better hurry. The man’s spirit will detach itself soon, Cruz had said.

  Sure enough, like a spiderweb, the spirit was already ripping.

  Gwen had laid a hand on Kajika’s forearm. Let us try.

  What if the body of Menawa rests in this grave?

  That had made Gwen pull her shoulders back into a line as tight as a bow string.

  There is a man who sleeps by Bee’s Place and who reeks of alcohol, Kajika had told Cruz. Fetch him. If your idea disappoints, all will not be lost.

  Cruz had gone to find the man. Grimacing from the stench of the man’s unwashed body, which was almost as noxious as a hunter devoid of opal, Cruz had dropped him on the transparent divide between the graveyard and the ancient circle.

  Gwenelda, who’d already set the corpse next to the grave, pulled the homeless man into the circle of rowan trees. He didn’t put up a fight, too busy gawping between the sky and Cruz.

  When Kajika lifted the casket’s lid, I’d pressed up on my tippy toes to peer at the body inside, but could only see the layer of spelled rose petals and legs that seemed too feminine to belong to Menawa. From the few stories Kajika had shared with me, I’d deduced the brother who’d carried him to safety when Kajika was just a boy would be tall and lithe too.

  Of course I could’ve been wrong, but one look at Kajika’s face told me the person in the grave wasn’t his brother. Gwenelda read the Gottwa inscription while offering up the corpse, whose spirit hung by a thread as thin as the one that had hemmed the cloud-blue silk dress I’d worn that day.

  The spirit detached itself, as though blown by a gust of wind, but instead of rising into the sky, it slipped inside the open grave.