Soft rain pattered against our backs as we walked, leaving a trail of steamy footprints in the snow. Early morning, when rubicund rays of dawn burned faintly on the ridge, the mists blew off, leaving a comforting hiss in my ears and the fragrance of damp soil in my nostrils. The earth moaned, as if yawning off the blanket of snow that had tucked it to bed for too many sunless years. Cold starlight slanted through the crystalized fingers of ice-cocooned pines, coming to play over the striped back of the white tiger. She said nothing to me, merely examining the land as if curious about what had been done to it. So we walked along in content silence, through that dreamy, melting forest.
We passed many ghosts along the side of the road. Some turned their heads toward the warmth in the way a flower's face follows the sun; others lay still, barely breathing. I recognized the self-proclaimed "Madame of Memories" lying prone in the snow. Every so often, a fiery burst of light emanated from within her; it just touched the roof of her mouth before she swallowed it back. Her back buckled in pain, and her sharp old eyes sought mine.
"Please," she gasped.
The white tiger gave her no more than a cursory twitch of her tail.
Leave her she told me.
I hovered, inclined to help. I'd already left her stranded once before. "She's in pain."
It is of her own infliction. She took your sister's fire in exchange for a sun bracelet of old memories "Raina's fire?"
The white tiger glanced at me. The fire of your mother's side of the family. Fire of the Aztecs. It runs freely in you. In your sister, it battled long and hard with her father's water nature, one suppressing the other, neither gaining an edge, until the Madame bargained for it "But then, I must help her!" I exclaimed. "Raina would never have discovered her true self otherwise!"
The white tiger was unconcerned. The Madame of Memories knows very well what is wrong with her. Too much fire for her to tame. But she is unwilling to do the one thing that would save her life "What?"
Share it A stream of light arched forth, an achingly beautiful golden rainbow, and the Madame immediately crunched in her abdomen to contain it, desperate that none of it should get free. The white tiger didn't look back, but I did plenty of times.
She knew paths no one else could. When we emerged in a clearing of hilly tombs, overlooking Old Man Zhi's village of sleepy chimneys snoring smoke clouds, I shook myself, certain it was only a happy vision.
The Lantern-Maker's key Eyes of deep ocean blue entranced me. Tie it around my neck I did as she told me. She disappeared into the rows of slate-roofed huts, and I didn't follow. I sensed that my path had somehow reached its end, so I settled down on a stone bench, hands bundled deep in my pockets, and waited for the fireworks to start.
The first lantern to rise over the roofs was the heart-shaped lantern that guarded baby cradles. The flames beat in a gentle scarlet rhythm inside, and I heard a child's cry.
Ghosts. They bobbed on the rooftops, curious. And waiting. Always waiting-I suddenly remembered Fred's words from long ago-"Waiting for shooting stars."
More and more lanterns floated into the air like escaped kites; lilac streamers and turquoise ropes rippled into empty space. Lanterns painted with the grinning faces of frogs, or twisted into the emerald shapes of snakes, cartwheeled past. The ghost children laughed and began to follow them. Old Man Zhi's warrior lanterns puffed smoke to buoy themselves, violet velvet lanterns shed petals on the cheeks of the elderly, and chirpy, yellow bird lamps piped open their tops to sing. Lanterns of every shape and size, every color and pattern, blew this way and that, but always, up they flew.
The lanterns filled the sky, pulsing with the harmonious light of fireflies, and a great host of ghosts departed from the earth to join them. The higher they rose into the zenith of the heavens, the further night was chased back, until a great and radiant being resumed its throne in the sky. And there was light.
The daylight hurt my eyes. I closed my eyes tight and felt its warm fingers cup my face. A foreign touch.
I could squint, but little more. In my watery vision, the snowy hills glittered like diamonds, and the ghosts' faces were stripped of layers of shadows, leaving them less scary. Now it was the spirits who looked young, frightened, and confused. But tired of waiting.
"What are you waiting for? That's it! Go home!" I yelled, jumping and waving my arms, waving goodbye, as their shadows passed over my face, flowing ever upwards and beyond.
I think one had Marisol's face and Marisol's body, her real body, the body of la bailarina de salsa, set free to dance the rhythm of the winds.
Chapter 43: A Parting of Ways.
I found the way back to the cabin in the woods all by myself, thank you very much, with nothing but my good old reliable nose. Nevertheless, I caught sight of Kwan's emerald-green belly breaking through the clouds every now and then, checking in to make sure I didn't get lost. I guessed it was the least the cockatrice could do, my sister being related to their kind and all.
Eve felt like an empty train platform, right after everyone has cleared out to new and better places, leaving nothing behind but an echo of their voices. Once I thought I saw a fox staring at me from the underbrush, its eyes a hateful cranberry red. Another time I was serenaded for half a mile by a three-eyed crow. It perched on a branch, and when I looked at it, I saw in each eye the image of a girl, a wolf, and a demon.
Needless to say, I was ready to get the hell out of the spirit world until it repopulated a little.
I'd just come into sight of the cabin when the sky darkened. I sniffed the air suspiciously. Something smelled wrong, but there was no one in sight.
"Rafael?" I called, a small blossom of hope blooming in my heart.
Silence. Kwan had long disappeared toward the Yellow Sea. There was nothing else for it. The only thing left was the river.
I shivered, hugging myself. The river was only partially encased in ice, but deep patches of artic blue created a bridge across. I made the mistake of locking eyes with those churning eddies, and my throat clogged. I imagined them swirling higher and higher to encircle my neck with cold hands, all of my body going numb below.
"Rafael!" He hadn't returned to the cabin yet. I could search for a way around the river. But then I would linger in the open, and those rain clouds had me worried.
Wolf was scared stiff of the river, so I took my first few steps out onto the ice slowly. My boots brushed aside the light dusting of snow, and for a second, I thought I saw a hand pressed, pleading, against the ice. I bolted back, and when I forced myself to look back at the river again, I saw nothing but bottomless black. But encased in the ice...there was a handprint.
That was all the motivation I needed. I bolted across that frozen river, the hairs on the back of my neck shooting up, when an owl's hoot broke the stillness of an otherwise silent forest. Suddenly, it seemed like the ice stretched on endlessly, like a glacier, and the warm cabin was lost from sight. I spun around and around, spooked. And then I heard it: the scrape of heavy, dragging footsteps.
"Dark Spirit-" I made the mistake of uttering its name aloud. When I turned, it was standing there. Its hollow eyes stared vacantly at a spot above my head; its thin black hair flapped in the wind like a crow's wing.
"Y-you." I extended a quivering finger, careful not to touch it. "I've seen you before. You're the son-of-a-bitch who led to Maya's downfall. You started it all. Who the hell are you?"
I am Xec Xec. Rhymed with 'sick.' Cute. But the name felt strange, somehow. Incomplete.
I folded my arms. "What the hell do you want?"
Deals have been broken "Sure. Your queen's dead. The white tiger's returned." The first wings of fear fluttered in my chest. "If I were you, I would run for the hills before she hunts you."
We were here before Her. We will be here after It stepped closer, its black lips stretching up its face, as if it were trying to smile. I do not speak of the mother's broken deal. I speak of the son's "Khyber." I shivered as the fog gathered around us. The sun shrank into a black hole surrounded by an eerie halo of white fire.
"Don't let me stop you. Be on your way, then."
Yes The Dark Spirit walked past me at a glacial pace, one foot dragging. It suddenly spun about, grabbed my shoulders, and screamed soundlessly into my face. I screamed back, petrified, because I couldn't hear myself. Its abnormally shaped head snapped forward, and everything dissolved into howls and fire; I think Wolf and Demon tried to protect me.
Everything snapped back and righted itself. I could see the cabin nestled in the trees, could practically feel the warm blaze of the candlelit doorway beckoning through the window.
Then I felt its lips press against my ear: Taeyang wished to be free. He won't be. This is our curse upon him. If he cannot suffer endlessly in the life bond with Maya, then he will enter into it with someone else Xec licked the inside of my ear, its tongue formless and cold.
You I tried to escape, but it was everywhere.
You know where to find us...if you want to make a deal of your own The hazy afternoon light returned slowly to the forest after the Dark Spirit departed.
I couldn't stop shaking.
The candlelit doorway glowed softly before me, but I didn't go through.
I knelt on the floor of the cabin. The warm winds had blown dead leaves through the open door in our absence, but I didn't catch Rafael's scent on them. So I waited.
I'd thought this entire thing would be over with Maya's death, but it wasn't. Fears. My life, tied to Khyber's. I prayed this didn't mean what I thought it did. The Dark Spirits were liars. They could curse a deal-breaker to a thousand years as a cuttlefish, if they desired, but they couldn't hurt me. Right? Right?
I couldn't believe Khyber had risked growing tentacles.
Rafael appeared as if he'd been blown in by the winds. He plucked leaves from his hair and slammed the door shut behind. "Namkyu will be waiting for us to return," he said, but then I covered the few steps between us and kissed him.
His arms automatically sprang up to enfold me, and I was relieved to feel him kiss me back, his jaw knocking into my chin in his haste to trap me against the wall. His brown hair tickled my forehead, and I laughed, running my fingers through it and urging him closer. His lips were rough, salty, and sad. His hand touched the gauze patch over my eye.
"It was her," I said.
"She took your eye. You took her life." He gave a half-laugh, staring out the window at the melting river. "I can't believe the Queen Bitch is dead."
I crossed my arms. "Do I look like a pirate?"
He stared at me. "You-you brought down Maya, Queen of Vampyres. She drowned this land in night for half a century. And you're asking how you look?"
That was all I felt able to talk about without crumbling into a million pathetic pieces. I let Rafael approach and carefully lift the bandage, watched him drop it with shock at what he saw there.
"Citlalli, there's nothing. It's like you never had a right eye."
I raised an eyebrow. "So how do I look?"
"Like one hell of a sexy pirate." His dark eyes glinted mischievously, and then his mouth crushed mine. He shoved me up on the table, and I fought hard to keep up with his kisses. I ended up clinging to his neck, breathing in his windswept scent to calm my nerves, and relishing the heavy warmth of him, tight in my arms. Finally, that frightening hold of the Dark Spirit faded away.
Rafael pressed his forehead against mine, breathing harshly, and his fingers wandered down to the red fang necklace dangling around my neck. I felt quiet steal over his body, and his face grew lake-still.
I immediately began babbling excuses. "I'm sorry, I didn't know what it meant when he gave it to me. I thought he only wanted me to keep it safe! I didn't think-"
"He would die." Rafael touched the necklace once more. "Don't...apologize. Citlalli...this is great."
That was the last response I expected. "Raf, your, your maker is dead."
"Like so many others. I knew." Rafael drew back, nodding to himself. "The air around me felt different. The moment it happened.
"Don't pity me, Citlalli." He gave that small laugh and took my hand. "Seu Jaehoon sunsaeng-nim was a good man fighting an ugly war. But he's not the first soldier I've known to die. He won't be the last. Not until we kill every last one of the bloodsuckers. Now with the Vampyre Queen slayer to lead us, this time they'll be the ones running." He grinned, eyes full of fire. "So. Who shall we track first? Khyber? Or Donovan? I understand, after what he might have done to your sister-"
"Wha-a- I-" Bile rose in my throat. I hadn't even thought about that. I'd kept a trained eye on every moment of Raina's capture, up until the point when Maya had taken her soul. Then everything was a black patch. Donovan better not have laid a hand on her.
He smiled again and kissed my knuckles, taking my silence for agreement. But when he tried to pull me to my feet, I clung to the floor.
"Rafael. I can't."
His irritated sigh gave it all away. "What now, Citlalli?"
"I'm tired."
His dark eyes regarded me warily. I could feel myself drowning of guilt in them.
"Don't you feel tired, too?"
He laughed. "Yeah. I almost died of hypothermia, remember?"
"Of keeping tallies and scorecards! Of hating someone so much that your life loses meaning! I have Raina back." I scraped the hair from my face, my lips trembling. "I just, want, to be happy with that. Maya's dead, Raf. The white tiger will set things right in Eve. Why do we need to prolong the war?"
Rafael said nothing, gripping the sides of the windowpane until small cobweb cracks ran up the frame. I knew he wouldn't like what I had to say. But when he began to laugh, a sad, dying thing rubbed raw with frost, I grew scared.
"Raf-"
"That's great." He cut me off. "You got what you wanted. It doesn't matter what the rest of us want. What we need."
"You don't need revenge. You have me-"
"Who does Kaelan have? Your sister was one of five girls to get out of that vampyre nest alive. She was lucky. Kaelan's daughter sure as hell wasn't. She died saving your sister. Who do Ae Cha's three children have? That drunk of a husband she ran away from in the first place?"
"So you'll throw yourself after vampyres day after day? When does it all end, Rafael?"
"When the pain stops-" He might have started to give an honest answer. Then he shook his head. "They. Don't. Deserve to get away with this."
"Unbelievable." I stood now, too. "You want to die. Just like him."
Rafael's eyes darkened until they were black, and I thought he might actually attack me. He knew who I was referring to. Then he gave a mirthless chuckle.
"Who the fuck is this girl?" he muttered. "Do the pack a favor, Alpha. Let your Were lead."
I gasped, as if doused with frigid water. "Excuse me?"
"Quit playing, Citlalli. Your soul isn't stable. I heard the stories from the mountain. How many of them are there?" He couldn't bring himself to look at me. "How many are in there with you?"
There was no reason to lie. I'd promised Demon I wouldn't bury her anymore. "Two. Wolf threw Itself in the way of Fred's fire, and my soul split again."
"A triad. I created a freakin' triad."
My cheeks flamed. "Whoa there, boy. Yeah, you started the whole ball rolling. But you didn't 'create' me. I did this to myself."
He kept his back to me, so I continued to berate him. "I don't get what the big deal is. All Wolf and Demon have done is protect me. I wouldn't have been able to defeat Maya's four life stages without them."
"Do you ever listen?" Rafael exploded. "What's the Were equivalent of 'four life stages'? Well, there's your normal everyday person: a sole, stable soul. Next is the fate of us in the Were community: the dual-souled, in which you must keep your Were under control. Third is the triad, which happens to unstable Weres: a soul broken into three. The last soul stage is a myriad soul. Did you notice, there are no 'quad' or 'penta' souls. That's because if your soul splits again, then that's it! No one has ever survived a fourth split without losing their sanity." He ran his hands through his hair agitatedly. "Jesus Christ, you've even named them. 'Demon'? Do I need to give you any more proof that you're on the edge?"
The air crackled between us with a thousand untold accusations. I suddenly saw a very different version of myself in his eyes: a one-eyed, feral creature, backed into a corner. An Alpha didn't cringe. I knew, without a doubt, that if I stepped onto the dangerously falling bridge between Rafael and me, then we were finished. But what would happen after that, I couldn't say.
"You were fine with me being Alpha not five minutes ago." I raised an eyebrow. "So? Is this it, Rafael? I don't jump to organize a hunt for Khyber, and you threaten to out me as 'unstable'?"
"Does all Khyber have to do is miraculously show up at the last minute to save our asses, and he's absolved of a thousand years of guilt? Citlalli, use your head. The oh-so-sympathetic Prince of Sorrow got everything he fuckin' wanted! He's free of Maya! Crispin's dead; his brothers are routed. Khyber can do whatever the fuck he wants."
"Not everything." My hands trembled. I felt tears rising dangerously close to the surface. I didn't want to tell Rafael this way. Not because I feared he would turn away.
But because I was afraid that he would never be able to turn away. From hunting me.