Cruel Beauty

“How—” My throat was dry and my voice cracked; I swallowed. “How can you have a body during the day?”

“It is always night in this room.” The light glinted in his eyes. He raised the hand with the light higher, and white-gold flames sprang up all around the edge of the room. They made no smoke, but they crackled softly; it was a warm, comforting sound, and warm air flowed over my face. And I felt the thrum of power.

“This is the Heart of Fire,” I said.

Shade nodded. And watched me, the firelight dancing in his eyes.

I squared my shoulders. “Go ahead. Tell me how I’ve done wrong.”

The words jutted between us, harsh and angry. I realized too late they were the sort of thing I would say to Ignifex. They were not anything I should say to the captive who had shown me nothing but kindness.

“He’s taught you anger,” said Shade. “But he hasn’t made you stop trying to save us.”

The anger and cruelty had always been part of me, and Ignifex knew that very well. But at least Shade was still deceived.

“No,” I said. “I’ll never stop. I’ll save you, I promise.”

“Would you die for that?”

“Why do you think I’m here?” I snapped, then drew a breath. “You know I’m prepared to pay any price.”

His fingertips ghosted down the side of my face. “You’ve grown so strong. You’re almost ready.”

“I don’t feel ready,” I muttered.

“You are,” he said. “Trust me.”

You don’t know me, I thought.

He had always comforted me before. But this time, the tension still coiled in my shoulders and stomach. A million words buzzed in my throat: He says he loves me. You kissed me and I wanted it, but I want him too. I believe you’re the prince. It’s my duty to save you and I swear that I will. I think I’m wicked enough to love a demon. Even just thinking them stung like bees, and I swallowed them all.

“You know the Resurgandi’s plan,” I said instead. “Ignifex says it will never work. That we don’t understand the nature of the house at all.”

“Do you trust him?” asked Shade.

I stared into his blue eyes that had once seen the true sun, and in that moment I didn’t want to refuse him anything. I meant to say No, never, of course not. But the words stuck behind my teeth. I remembered Ignifex’s fire driving back the shadows, his body curled trustingly against mine, his voice saying, You lie to me but not to yourself.

Finally I said, “I don’t know what to think. He’s not . . . I don’t trust him. But I don’t think he’s a monster.”

Shade took my hands. “Never doubt this: He is the worst of monsters. He is the author of all our misfortunes, and it would be the greatest blessing if he had never existed.”

Arms around me in the dark. Lips against mine in the sunlight. Do you know why I love you?

He knew me. And loved me. And he had never asked me for anything. Even Shade wanted me to die for him. Maybe I shouldn’t forgive a monster just because he loved me that way—but—

But loving me that way made him a monster. My doom was the price of saving Arcadia, and only a monster would care more about me than saving thousands upon thousands of i

“Well, the Kindly Ones would seem to merit blame as well,” I said. “Can you tell me anything about them?”

“They never come unless they are called,” said Shade. “They never depart without being paid.”

“Are they the ones who made you like this?” I asked. “He doesn’t seem to remember. I thought he just captured you when he sundered Arcadia, but it has to be more complicated than that.”

Shade’s lips pressed together.

“I think he’s been made to forget something about you. He seems to really believe you’re just his shadow. But then sometimes he acts as if you’re a separate person that he once knew. He says you’re a fool.”

The fire crackled louder. It sounded almost like laughter.

“He is the fool,” said Shade. “Mourning and raging and he doesn’t even know how his wives died.” There was an edge to his voice I had never heard before.

Firelight danced in his eyes. Had the flames grown closer? I felt a sudden wave of heat against my face.

“He said they opened the wrong doors. Or guessed the wrong name.”

“Three of them guessed wrong. The other five? They weren’t strong enough. When I took them to this room and showed them the truth, they died. But you.” His voice was full of gentle wonder. “You looked on the Children of Typhon and survived.”

He spoke the words so calmly and I had trusted him so much that it was a moment before fear shivered in my stomach.

“I don’t know about that,” I said, wondering how fast Shade could run. The flames were definitely closer now; sweat prickled on my face.

“You are our only hope,” he said. I pulled my hands out of his and bolted.

But he didn’t need to run. He simply melted out of the air in front of me and grabbed my wrists, his grip as strong as Ignifex’s.

“Let me go,” I gasped, wrenching my arms in vain.

“You asked how I was made,” he said serenely. “I’m going to show you. I’m going to show you everything.”

The circle of fire tightened around us, and the heat drummed on my skin. I remembered the time Father donated a pig for roasting in the village square, but the spit collapsed and when they hauled the pig out it was a blackened mess.

“You’re going to kill me!” My voice came out so high and panicked it was almost a squeal.

“This room is the only way to show you,” said Shade. “It might kill you. But you said you would die for me, and you ca

Then the flames were all around us, filling the whole room, lapping over my body. Pain seared through me, white-hot or ice-cold, I couldn’t tell. I screamed and my legs gave out, but I didn’t fall because Shade still gripped my wrists like iron. He lowered me slowly to the ground and rested my head in his lap.

There was no smell of burning flesh. My clothes did not char. But the flames licking across my body felt real, felt like they were burning my body to ash. My heart pounded in a jagged rhythm. I couldn’t move, couldn’t even scream. All I could do was shudder in pain and stare up at Shade’s face, at those blue eyes I had once thought so human. He looked sad, but he made no move to help me.

“Please,” I gasped.

Shade laid a hand on my cheek. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish we could have met somewhere else.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips to my forehead. Fire blazed across my vision and I had one moment to think, Was it like this for Ignifex? before I saw nothing more.

I stood in a round garden with high white walls. I felt that I had seen it before, but I couldn’t remember where. Trees ringed the edge of the garden; all around me were great hedges of rosebushes, blossoming in cascades of crimson, white, and red-tipped gold flowers. Overflowing petals lay spattered on the ground beneath them. The light was a liquid, living thing that swirled and eddied through the leaves, rustling them like wind. In the corner of my eye, I thought it had shaped itself into figures that stood watching with still, perilous attention—but when I looked, they were gone.

Before me stood a dried bush, barely more than a skeleton, just a few brown leaves clinging to its twigs. On the topmost branch perched a brown-and-gray sparrow, its black eyes bright.

Thank you for the crumbs, it said.

My throat itched and stuck to itself as I swallowed. “You,” I whispered. “You’re the Lar of this house.”

You could say that. Others might not.

“Are you one of the Kindly Ones?” I asked.

Nothing so young or foolish.

“Then what are you?”

It launched into the air and landed on my hand, tiny claws pricking my skin. I am grateful for your kindness.