The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue - V. E. Schwab Page 0,154
question echoes, too.
Which of them are mine?
She looks at him, the elegant shape beside her in the dark.
“What is the strangest deal you’ve ever done?”
Luc tips his head back, and considers. “Joan of Arc,” he says. “A soul for a blessed sword, so that she could not be struck down.”
Addie frowns. “But she was.”
“Ah, but not in battle.” Luc’s smile goes sly. “Semantics may seem small, Adeline, but the power of a deal is in its wording. She asked for the protection of a god while it was in her hands. She did not ask for the ability to keep hold of it.”
Addie shakes her head, bemused.
“I refuse to believe that Joan of Arc made a deal with the dark.”
The smile splits, showing teeth. “Well, perhaps I let her believe I was a little more … angelic? But deep down, I think she knew. Greatness requires sacrifice. Who you sacrifice to matters less than what you sacrifice for. And in the end, she became what she wanted to be.”
“A martyr?”
“A legend.”
Addie shakes her head. “But the artists. Think of all they could have done. Don’t you mourn their loss?”
Luc’s face darkens. And she remembers his mood the night he met her in the National, remembers his first words, in Beethoven’s room.
What a waste.
“Of course I do,” he says. “But all great art comes with a cost.” He looks away. “You should know that. After all, we are both patrons, in our way.”
“I am nothing like you,” she says, but there is not much venom in the words. “I am a muse, and you are a thief.”
He shrugs. “Give and take,” he says, and nothing more.
But when it’s late, and he is gone, and she is left to wander, the opera plays on, perfectly preserved inside the prism of her memory, and Addie wonders, softly, silently, if their souls were a fair price for such fine art.
New York City
July 4, 2014
XIV
Lights explode over the city.
They’ve gathered on the roof of Robbie’s building along with twenty other people to watch the fireworks go off, paint the Manhattan skyline pink and green and gold.
Addie and Henry stand together, of course, but it’s too hot to touch. His glasses keep fogging, and he seems less interested in drinking his beer than holding the can against his neck.
A breeze trickles through the air, carrying as much relief as a dryer vent, and everyone on the roof make exaggerated noises, letting out oohs and ahhs that might be for the fireworks, or simply the limp gust of air.
A kiddie pool sits in the center of the roof surrounded by lawn chairs, a huddle of people sloshing their feet in the tepid water.
The fireworks finish, and Addie looks around for Henry, but he’s wandered off.
He’s been in a strange mood all day, but she assumes it’s the heat, sitting like a weight on everything. The bookstore was closed, and they spent most of the day stretched together on the sofa in front of a box fan, Book pawing at an ice cube as they watched TV, the heat enough to temper even Henry’s manic energy.
She was too tired to tell him stories.
He was too tired to write them down.
The rooftop doors burst open and Robbie appears, looking as if he’s raided an ice-cream truck, his arms full of melting ice pops. People whoop and cheer, and he makes his rounds of the roof, doling out once-frozen treats.
Twelfth time’s the charm, she thinks as he hands her a fruit bar, but even though he doesn’t remember her, Henry’s obviously said enough, or perhaps Robbie simply recognizes everyone else, and makes the deduction.
One of these things is not like the others.
Addie doesn’t lose a second. She breaks into a sudden grin. “Oh my god, you must be Robbie.” She throws her arms around his neck. “Henry’s told me all about you.”
Robbie pulls free. “Did he?”
“You’re the actor. He said you’re amazing. That it’s only a matter of time before you’re on Broadway.” Robbie blushes a little, looks away. “I’d love to come to one of your shows. What are you performing in right now?”
Robbie hesitates, but she can feel him faltering, torn between shunning her and sharing his news. “We’re doing a spin on Faust,” he says. “You know, man makes a deal with the devil…”
Addie bites into the ice pop, sending a wave of shock through her teeth. It is enough to mask the grimace as Robbie goes on.