Both my hands were wrapped tight around the hilt of the sword again, but I made myself sound as light as I could as I called back, “Oh, you know me. Always have to make sure I have the right accessory. A sword just felt appropriate for visiting my magical ex-boyfriend in a cave. Although now I’m wondering if it isn’t a bit much.”
There was no hint of anything in David’s eyes—he didn’t really have eyes now—but I thought there was the slightest hint of a smile.
It wasn’t much, but it was something.
“Did you ever read A Wrinkle in Time?” I called out to him now. “You probably did because like every smart kid loves that book, and you were the smartest kid I knew. Do you remember at the end, when Meg saves her little brother by reminding him who he is? Telling him she loves him?”
Still no reaction, but I moved closer, letting the sword drop to my side.
“I don’t know if I believe that can actually work. I’d like to, obviously. And I do love you.”
The glow in David’s eyes didn’t really dim, it couldn’t have, but I could have sworn something flickered across his face.
I kept going. “And Saylor loved you. Not the Oracle you, although it probably started there. But she loved you the person. Even Alexander—” I broke off, wondering if I should mention what we’d discovered, that Alexander was David’s father, but I wasn’t sure it would do any good right now. Instead, I just said, “He tried to save you from this, too. Me, Bee, Ryan . . . we all looked for a way to save you, not because you were an Oracle, but because you’re you.”
By now, I had come close enough that I could almost reach out and touch him, and to my surprise, David rose to his feet, facing me almost uncertainly.
“Just try,” I said, my voice cracking. “Try to remember who you were before all of this. We’ve looked through spell books, and we’ve tried rituals, and none of it has worked. But maybe that’s because we can’t fix this after all. Maybe only you can do that.”
He still didn’t move, but I was sure the light in his eyes was dimmer now, and hope surged in my chest, so sharp it ached.
“David,” I said, reaching out with one hand. It was trembling, but I kept it out there anyway, waiting. Hoping.
Slowly, he raised his own hand. Like the rest of him, it glowed faintly, fingers outlined in light, but when his fingers touched mine, they were warm and solid and . . . normal.
My throat ached, and I moved closer. He was in there, I knew he was. We could fix this, somehow, if we just—
“Harper!”
I turned, startled, to see Blythe behind me, her yellow dress bright in the gloom, Bee right on her heels.
“Blythe?” I asked, confused. How had she gotten here, and why?
David’s hand fell away from mine, and his features twisted into a snarl, eyes glowing so brightly I winced and threw one hand up against the glare.
I could feel magic building, and David lifted his hand again, the one that had just been touching mine. Light lined his fingers as they moved, pointing toward Blythe.
And Bee.
I didn’t think.
I raised the sword and lunged forward.
Chapter 35
SAYLOR HAD trained me in sword fighting, but that had been back when I actually had my powers, and then, I’d been swinging a sword at practice dummies, not someone I loved.
Not David.
But I swung now for all I was worth, even as every muscle in my arms screamed.
I hadn’t been quite fast enough—the bolt of magic still flew from David’s palm, and I heard Blythe cry out from behind me—but I didn’t think he’d hurt her all that badly. He’d barely had any time before I was on him, and then all his concentration was on me, flinging more glowing bolts from his hands, the magic hitting the metal of my sword and throwing up sparks.
“David, please,” I heard myself say in a voice that didn’t sound anything like mine. It was desperate and choked and raspy, and the words seemed to come up from somewhere deep inside me. “Please.”
David’s hands were working almost as fast as my arms, the two of us stalking each other around the cave. “You’ll kill me,” he said, and this time there was less of the echo—less of the Oracle—in his voice, more of just David. “I saw it. I’ve always seen it.”
He threw a particularly strong bolt that had me wincing even as I deflected it, and I was pretty sure I felt something give in my shoulders. I was strong, but not strong enough, not without my powers.
Still, I held my ground. “Not everything you see comes true,” I said to him, sweat and tears stinging my eyes. “David, you know that. You said it yourself, that you see”—I broke off as another jolt reverberated off the sword—“what could happen. This—” Taking a deep breath, I ignored all the pain in my body and said, “It doesn’t have to happen.”
He paused. Not for long, just the space of a heartbeat, and I held my breath, praying.
Blythe was behind me, and while I couldn’t see her, I could sense her presence and could tell when David suddenly remembered she was there, too. But then something in his face changed, and I glanced back to see that Bee had joined Blythe there, both of them staring at me with wide eyes, Blythe’s hands out like she was pleading. “Do it!” she yelled out. “Harper, you have to!”
David lifted his own hand, and there was nothing in his face of the boy I’d loved now. Not one part of him that wasn’t Oracle.
I could feel pressure—magic—building, my ears popping with the force of it, and then David looked right at me with those glowing eyes and said one word: “Choose.”
It was like everything suddenly slowed down. I felt the weight of the sword in my hand, saw the golden light crackling between David’s fingers, and knew that whatever magic he had there, whatever spell he was about to throw at Bee and Blythe, it was strong enough to kill.
So I chose.
It’s harder to drive a sword through someone than you could ever think, and even harder when you love that person. Too hard, almost unbearable, and I felt my own heart shatter as I shoved the blade through his chest.
There was a distant roaring in my ears, and the light faded from David’s eyes, his hands dropping limply to his sides as he hit his knees. When he lifted his head, there was still a lot of golden light in his eyes, but not so much that I couldn’t see some of the blue beneath it. “Harper,” he murmured, and then he slumped to the cave floor, eyes sliding closed.
Everything was still for a moment, and then I felt Bee’s hands on my shoulders, holding me close as Blythe stepped forward, falling to her knees beside David.
Blythe knelt on the rock next to David, his blood staining her yellow dress. The sword in my hands felt like it weighed about a million pounds, and I let it drop with a clatter that echoed through the cave. Tears and sweat were running down my face, and I had never been so tired in all my life. Sinking down, I crouched next to Blythe, and my voice was hoarse when I said, “It’s over. Is that why you came after us? To make sure I’d do it?”
Blythe’s fingers fluttered over David’s wound, and she was shaking her head. “No,” she said, “I mean. Yes. I came to make sure you’d go through with it, that you’d see it was the only way we could . . .”
Trailing off, she looked at David, her own face nearly as pale as his. “This doesn’t feel like we fixed it,” she said at last, and all I could do was nod, biting my lip to keep from sobbing.
“I thought it would,” she said, and her hand finally touched David’s chest, his blood bright against her fingers. “I honestly thought this was the best way.”
Keeping my eyes on the crown of her head rather than David’s body, I took a deep breath and said, “It was, in the end. It was the only way. You were right, Blythe. I’m not sure there was any spell that could’ve saved him.”
And then I felt Blythe’s hand on mine and tried to ignore the hea
ve in my stomach at how warm and sticky her grip felt, her palms still smeared with blood. “I could still try,” she said, and I opened my eyes then, blinking at her.
“Blythe—”
“No, I can,” she said, one hand still on mine, the other on David’s chest. “It isn’t too late, I don’t think. I can try . . .”
I just shook my head. “He’s dead, Blythe.”
But Blythe only turned back to David, hand still pressed to his chest. “Just a little bit,” she replied, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like someone could be “a little bit dead.”
And then she looked back at me. “Do you trust me, Harper?”
Weirdly enough, in spite of everything, I did. Or maybe because of everything. Blythe had never lied to us. She had earned at least a little trust.
I nodded, and she reached out to clasp my shoulder, leaving a bloody handprint behind.
Turning back to David, she kept her hands on his chest, murmuring low, but nothing seemed to be happening.
She pressed her hands harder, started speaking again, a little louder this time, and I waited.
But there was nothing. No sound, no breath, no sense in my chest of that pull between me and David, and on the third time, I decided I couldn’t just sit there and watch this, couldn’t let myself even start to hope that she was right. It felt easier to get up, to walk out of the cave and into the sunlight.
Bee followed behind me, and once we were outside, she looked at me for a second before stepping forward and wrapping me in a hug so tight I swore my bones creaked. She was so much taller than me that my nose was smushed against her collarbone, but I didn’t care. For a long while, we just stood there on the path outside the cave, our arms locked around each other.
“We did it,” she said, her voice thick. “You did it.”
It should’ve felt like a triumph, but all I felt was hollow. I’d kept David from turning any more hapless girls into Paladins, and ensured that he’d never be another Alaric, a dangerous Oracle who could wreak havoc and hurt the people I loved.
But I’d lost him, so what did it matter?
“You don’t believe her, do you?” she said to me once we parted, and I could just shake my head. I wanted to believe it, and Blythe had definitely used some powerful magic in the past, but I’d hoped too many times now for miracles or easy fixes, and been disappointed every time. In the end, I’d done what I came here to do, and it was over now.
Over.
Bee and I trudged back down the trail, and I made sure to roll up the sleeve of my T-shirt to hide the bloodstain there. I’d left the sword back in the cave, and I hoped I’d never have to see it again.
We were all the way to the bottom of the mountain when a sort of booming vibration stopped us both in our tracks.
Turning, I looked back up the mountain and saw a flock of birds whirl screeching into the sky, and I waited there, wanting to feel . . . something.
Some sign that that sound had come from a cave tucked deep in the woods where Blythe had worked a miracle. I waited to feel the tug to David that I always felt, like an invisible cord was connecting us.
But there was no feeling, no sense of anything other than loss and exhaustion. I felt the same way I had when I’d plunged that sword into him. He was gone, and I could sense it with every cell. No Oracle, no David.
Nothing.
And after a long while, I turned to Bee and said, “Let’s go home.”
Chapter 36
THE FIRST DAY of senior year dawned hot and sticky, the way the beginning of every school year started. August in Alabama was a real beast, but there was something nice about it, the way that first blast of air-conditioning hit you when you walked into the school buildings, the way we were all still in summer clothes, the sharp scent of just-cut grass in the air.
This was the year I’d been looking forward to since I’d started school. The year I’d always dreamed that everything would happen for me. Another Homecoming crown, college acceptance letters, cheering at fall football games . . .
But as I made my way through that first day, I couldn’t escape the feeling of something missing. And of course, there was something missing. Or rather, someone.
Lord knew I’d spent a lot of time thinking of David lately. Once we’d gotten safely back to Pine Grove, once some of the shock of all that had happened had faded, I’d felt ashamed of how I’d left things in Tennessee. I should’ve gone back to the cave, shouldn’t have let my grief and my fear of seeing him lying there—really, truly dead—keep me from saying good-bye. From seeing him one more time.
But I was determined to put those thoughts out of my head. I had a senior year to ace and a school to run. It was time to turn my attentions back to those responsibilities.
The twins were in the parking lot, as usual, both in the same color—pink today—and while Amanda’s hair flowed loose over her shoulders, Abi’s had been chopped into a cute bob over the summer.
“I like!” I told her, gesturing to my own hair, and with a little shriek, she ran toward me, Amanda close behind. They both threw their arms around me, locking me in a hug that smelled like Clinique perfume and lavender. To my surprise, I almost teared up.
“Girl, we missed you!” Amanda said, and Abi nodded, nearly bumping the top of my head with her chin.
Before I’d left, the twins had been avoiding me, either from the weirdness last spring, or just because they hadn’t exactly been high up on my list of priorities, either.
The twins pulled back, watching me with identical hazel eyes, and then Abi frowned a little and said, “You’re going to help tutor me in AP Government, right? I have no idea why I signed up for that.”
Laughing, I nodded. “You got it.”
Leaving the two of them at the courtyard, I walked into the main building, waving at a couple of people—Lucy McCarroll; Bee’s ex, Brandon—and made my way toward the lockers.
Ryan and Bee were already waiting for me, and I rolled my eyes at them even as I smiled. “Y’all gonna walk me to class?”
“Yes,” Ryan said immediately, and Bee elbowed him in the ribs. “We were hoping not to be so obvious,” she said, moving her bag to her other arm, “but . . . okay, what he said.”
“You remember the part where I said that I really am okay, right?” I asked both of them, looking up into their faces. “How we had this whole moment when me and Bee got back, there at the Waffle Hut, and y’all were like, ‘Are you okay?’ and then I confirmed I was indeed okay, and we all said the word ‘okay’ so many times, it stopped sounding like a word? Remember all of that? It was quite a moment.”
Ryan reached out and, honest to God, ruffled my hair. “Hey!” I said, laughing a little as I stepped back. “We’re not dating anymore, but that doesn’t mean you get to treat me like your rapscallion cousin.”
“‘Rapscallion,’” Bee scoffed, and I gave a shrug, smoothing my hair back into place.
“Boning up on my SAT vocabulary,” I said, and she winced.
“Don’t say ‘boning.’”
All three of us laughed, and for a second, it was like nothing had changed. “I’ll meet you dorks for lunch,” I told them, “in the courtyard, usual table.”
After confirming that Bee and I did have our second-period class together, we headed off: Ryan and Bee to first-period Spanish, while I went in the opposite direction, heading for the headmaster’s office. As reigning SGA president, it was my responsibility to meet with any new students we might have this year in twelfth grade. I hadn’t heard of anyone, but then it wasn’t like I’d been focusing a huge amount on school stuff lately.
There was a flurry of activity around the main office, but that was always the way it was on the first day, and I was already thinking ahead to my own first-period class (AP French—at least half of my schedule was AP classes this year) when the office door opened and
someone came hurrying out.
I was looking down as we collided, staring at the person’s shoes, a truly heinous pair of houndstooth Chucks, and wasn’t sure if my sharp inhale was from who those shoes reminded me of or the force of the collision. “Oh!” I gasped, my bag slipping off my arm.
I glanced down at it, only to find myself almost gasping again when I looked up.
David.
“Ah, God, sorry,” he said, reaching for my bag and sliding it back up onto my shoulder. He barely touched me as he did it, his eyes not quite on my face while I stood there, my mouth hanging open, everything in me seeming to somehow go still and speed up all at once. My face felt numb, my hands suddenly freezing, and I had the bizarre idea that maybe I wasn’t even at school. Maybe I’d fallen asleep, and—
But then the door opened behind him, and Blythe was standing there in a sensible sweater set and khaki skinny jeans, her dark hair caught up in a chignon at the back of her neck. She looked older than I was used to seeing her, although that weird little glint was still there in her eyes. This time, it looked a lot like triumph.
I realized David was still staring at me, and I made myself look at him.
His sandy hair wasn’t sticking up, but then it wasn’t fourth period yet. The freckles spreading across his face seemed darker against his slight blush, and his eyes behind his glasses were blue.
Just blue. Not a speck of gold to be seen.
But they were also a little blank as they looked at me. Well, not totally blank. There was some curiosity and, I thought, a little bit of appreciation there, but in that “dude looks at a pretty girl” way.
He didn’t know who I was.
My eyes flew past David to Blythe, but before she could say anything, Headmaster Dunn came out in his customary first-day brown suit and green bow tie. “Ah, Harper, excellent. This is David Stark.” He clapped David on the shoulder, and David winced a little bit, probably because Headmaster Dunn was wrinkling his shirt.
Lady Renegades Page 20
