She fled.
Not to the Children’s Lair but to a place she had been only once, playing hide and seek as a newborn in the Labyrinth. She hid in the walls. She made herself a prisoner, surrendering to the earth in exchange for its protection.
Kite had fallen in and out of consciousness, haunted by visions of succulents and scorching winds and a girl who was like a blade. And then she woke to find that the girl was alive and here — and in more danger than she could possibly know.
Kite leaned forward and pressed her forehead against Eli’s. “And here you are,” she breathed.
“So are you.”
A prick on Eli’s chest. A drop of blood welled up and stained her shirt.
Eli looked down. A slender knife, no bigger than a sliver, had slipped between her ribs.
“I’m sorry.” A black pearl slipped down Kite’s face. “You shouldn’t have freed me.”
Thirty-Two
Eli was in shock.
She watched as a few beads of redblack bled through the fabric of her shirt. She felt a small sting, like the prick of a needle. She slowly went down on one knee and prepared for her unmaking.
For pain.
Forgetting.
Obliteration.
She dropped her hands to her hips and stroked her blades one last time. You’ve been so good, she told them in her mind. She waited.
Nothing happened.
She was still alive.
Tav’s hands fumbling at her shirt — she pushed them away. “No,” she said clearly. She could hear the quickening pulse beside her — someone else’s — and tried to block it out. Focus on yourself, she thought.
“You missed,” she said dully, eyes blinking rapidly. Relief settled in like a fog, blurring her vision and thoughts. “I’m still whole.” Hand to her chest, wrist, throat, checking for proof of her pulse. Inhale. Exhale. She was still breathing.
“Are you okay? Eli, say something! You can’t keep dying on me!”
“At least this time it wouldn’t be your fault,” said Eli, Tav’s face coming back into focus. Their eyes were shiny.
Eli stood, Cam beside her.
“I’m good,” Eli breathed, and then louder, “Let me see her.” Tav and Cam moved away and let her pass to where Kite had collapsed onto the ground, sobbing. Black pearls and seashells rained over her tattered skirts.
She leaned over, the blade of volcanic glass in her hand. The assassin. Living death. Carefully, deliberately, she reached out and pricked Kite’s essence.
Kite shrieked and curled up, her knees pulled into her chest. Eli stepped back and saw that the blade was glowing whiteblue, a drop of witch blood on its tip.
“Trust you to fuck up an assassination,” said Eli, placing her hand on her chest. “My heart is here.”
“I didn’t want to do it,” said Kite. “My love —”
“Don’t call me that.” Eli pressed a hand against her shirt. It came away sticky and sugary — sap was leaking from the puncture, mixing with blood that spilled from a torn vein. Something inhuman in her body had been pierced by the dagger. She took a breath and winced.
Kite pushed herself up onto her knees, closer to Eli.
“Get away from me,” Eli spat.
“It was a compulsion,” said Kite, trembling. She had stopped crying. “You don’t understand. You cannot disobey the Coven. I thought if I hid here, you would be safe.”
“You can fight a compulsion,” said Eli angrily. “I would have, for you.”
Kite combed her hair with long, spidery fingers and studied Eli like she was a puzzle. “The paper birds never brought me an answer,” she said. “I asked them. But even the library is forgetting. I could not fight it. It was not my will, Eli. It was the Witch Lord’s.”
“You’re the Heir!” snapped Eli. “There’s no difference.”
Kite kept combing, kept staring. “You are right and wrong,” she said, and her voice was a song. The melody soothed Eli’s tension, relaxed the muscles in her neck and back — and that only made her angrier.
“What do we do with her?” asked Tav, watching Eli warily.
“We bring her with us,” said Cam. “Unless you know how to put someone back in a wall?”
“Not so much.” Tav looked around the cavern. “Should we tie her up?”
“No,” said Eli hoarsely. “She’ll behave. Won’t you?” Kite bowed her head, pearls slipping down her face again. “I swear it.”
“Just so you know,” Tav said to Kite, “I don’t trust you.”
Eli bit her lip so hard it bled. “I don’t trust her, either.”
Once they had been children together. Once the Labyrinth had kept them safe, like fledglings in a nest. Once they had played together, turning shadows into gifts.
“It’s a wolf!”
“My bunny will eat it!”
“Do a spider, do a spider!”
The young girl looked up at the stars and saw the glittering lights of the City of Ghosts. She knew it was haunted. She knew it was slippery and not to be trusted, dangerous, not like the safety of moss and stone and Kite’s head on her stomach. But sometimes she couldn’t help loving the human world, and she brought back trinkets for Kite from her other life: a plastic comb studded with fake gems, a baseball, the human children’s trick of making animals out of hands and light and shadow.
Kite loved this last one especially.
“It’s like magic.” She giggled, as their shadow spiders danced across the stone. “I wish it was real.” Kite closed her eyes and then breathed.
And everything stuttered.
Eli could see Kite’s breath, like cold mist on a winter’s morning.
Hanging.
Only it was never cold here.
And then one of the shadow spiders kicked up its legs and skittered away.
“How did you do that?”
“I didn’t do anything.” Kite turned her head to look at Eli. “You’re imagining things.”
They continued walking in the subterranean passages, following the wind, seeking a way out of the under-labyrinth. Glowing mushrooms replaced the torches and cast everything in a faint silverwhite light. They were no closer to the Coven, and now they had a rogue Heir to deal with. Eli sighed heavily. Everything had gotten so complicated. She was used to the pleasure of the hunt, the ease of the kill, the smooth motion as the blade dragged the ghost out of its empty host body and destroyed it. She shook her head, waiting for something that made sense to settle. To give her purpose.
“It’s very romantic, really. You fell in love with a wall. It’s like a fairytale.” Tav was back to teasing Cam. They walked in front, followed by Kite. Eli, obsidian and pearl blades in hand, walked at the back. Watching.
“The wall fell in love with me,” he corrected.
“Just don’t break this one’s heart, dude. I think it will do worse than key my bike.”
“He seemed like a nice guy!”
“He wore camo pants!”
Eli listened to their familiar banter and realized with a pang that she had grown used to it, that she was starting to like background chatter, the clumsy sounds of footsteps and the forced laughter they conjured to keep away fear. And she understood, for a moment, just how brave these humans really were.