had been watching the whole time. He'd been so careful not to come near her. Did he think he could have her longer by holding back the warmth of his embrace? Did he think he could outwit the curse by holding her always just out of reach?
He didn't even touch her, she murmured. Bummer, Bill said.
Never touching her, not once the whole time they were in love. And now he'd have to wait it all out again, not knowing whether anything would even be different next time. How could hope live in the face of that kind of defeat? Nothing about this made sense.
If he didn't touch her, then what triggered her death? She turned to Bill, who tilted his head and looked up into the sky.
Mountains, he said. Pretty!
You know something, Luce said. What is it?
He shrugged. I don't know anything, he said. Or nothing I can tell you.
A horrible, desolate cry echoed across the valley. The sound of Daniel's agony resounded and returned, multiplied, as though a hundred Daniels were crying out together. Luce brought the opera glasses back up to her face and saw him dash the flowers in his hands to the ground.
I have to go to him! she said.
Too late, Bill said. Here it comes.
Daniel backed away from the cliff edge. Luce's heart pounded for fear of what he was about to do. He certainly wasn't going to sleep. He got a running start, picking up inhuman speed by the time he reached the cliff's edge, and then launched himself into the air.
Luce waited for his wings to unfurl. She waited for the soft thunder of their grand unfolding, opening wide and catching the air in awesome glory. She'd seen him take flight like this in the past, and every time, it struck her to her core: How desperately she loved him.
But Daniel's wings never shot out from his back. When he reached the edge of the cliff, he went over like any other boy.
And he fell like any other boy, too.
Luce screamed, a loud and long and terrified cry, until Bill clapped his dirty stone hand over her mouth. She threw him off, ran to the edge of the cliff, and crawled forward.
Daniel was still falling. It was a long way down. She watched his body grow smaller and smaller.
He'll extend his wings, won't he? she gasped. He'll realize that he's going to fall and fall until ...
She couldn't even say it.
No, Bill said.
But--
He'll slam right into that ground a couple of thousand feet down, yes, Bill said. He'll break every bone in his body. But don't worry, he can't kill himself. He only wishes he could. He turned to her and sighed. Now do you believe his love?
Yes, Luce whispered, because all she wanted to do at that moment was plunge off the cliff after him. That was how much she loved him back.
But it wouldn't do any good.
They were being so careful. Her voice was strained. We both saw what happened, Bill: nothing. She was so innocent. So how could she have died?
Bill sputtered a laugh. You think you know everything about her just because you saw the last three minutes of her life from across a mountaintop?
You're the one who made me use binoculars ... oh! She froze. Wait a minute! Something haunted her about the way her past self's eyes had seemed to change, just for a moment, right at the end. And suddenly, Luce knew: What killed her this time wasn't something I could have witnessed, anyway....
Bill rolled his claws, waiting for her to finish the thought.
It was happening inside her.
He applauded slowly. I think you might be ready now.
Ready for what?
Remember what I mentioned to you in Helston? After you talked to Roland?
You disagreed with him ... about me getting close to my past selves?
You still can't rewrite the story, Luce. You can't change the narratives. If you try to--
I know, it distorts the future. I don't want to change the past. I just need to know what happens-- why I keep dying. I thought it was a kiss, or a touch, or something physical, but it seems more complicated than that.
Bill yanked the shadow out from behind Luce's feet like a bullfighter wielding a red cape. Its edges flickered with silver. Are you ready to put your soul where your mouth is? he asked. Are you ready to go three-D?
I'm ready. Luce punched open the Announcer and braced herself against the briny wind inside. Wait, she said,