Send Me Their Souls (Bring Me Their Hearts #3) - Sara Wolf Page 0,115
his title. “I can guide you better than the furball can.”
Yorl’s teeth start to show, and I pipe up cheerily.
“Or both of you can work together to guide us doubly safely down there!”
Yorl and Malachite glare at each other, but Yorl relents first with a twitch of his whiskers.
“Fine. We could use your sense of hearing, regardless.”
Malachite’s almost taken aback, and his shoulders relax as he snorts. “Your sense of smell’s better than mine, anyway. Useful for the bloodbats.”
“Ah, true love.” I wink at Fione. She giggles behind her hand, and for a blissful moment on the beach, me in Lucien’s arms, a plan on the horizon, Varia beaten back, this feels like peace. An echo of it, a tantalizing promise of things to come. For them.
For all of them.
They have a plan.
And so do I.
I look up at the prince, cupping his cheek. “You protected me. All of you.”
Lucien’s eyes crinkle, and he leans down, planting a soft kiss on my forehead. “And you trusted us to. Thank you.”
I don’t tell Lucien on that night-lit beach, but I tell it to myself in the days afterward: it’s not about trust.
What comes next for me isn’t about trust. And not telling Lucien, or any of them, isn’t at all like what I did in Vetris after I was discovered as a Heartless. This is different. This isn’t us forced apart, forcing one another apart—it’s my road leading one way and theirs the other. It feels more peaceful than pushing them away for their own good ever did. This isn’t me pushing them away at all. It’s us walking the same path together, for as long as we can.
And I plan to enjoy every second of it—of them—until our paths part.
In the bustle of the mist the next morning, the silver robed polymaths gather on the docks of the Black Archive, their ship for us bobbing gently in the blood-tinted waves. Several polymaths in matronics load supplies onto the ship, carrying far heavier loads than any mortal could, their copper armor dented by the valkerax attack but still gleaming in the sun. The polymath leader who greeted us first says farewell first, too, her face much less severe now but her robes more bloodstained.
“You have given us learning, and we have given you learning in return. Until we know you again.”
“Until we know you again,” the polymaths behind her all say at once and bow their heads, and at my side, Yorl does the same. The polymaths begin to walk up the steps of the Archive and back to their books and machines and no doubt even mustier intellectual pursuits. The woman remains, though, and she steps forward very suddenly and takes my hand. Her gray eyes pierce mine with a fearsome determination that reminds me intensely of Fione.
“You will bring Yorl back to us in one piece.”
“Sage,” Yorl scoffs quietly, more like a purr than anything derisive. “Please.”
“I will,” I assure her, trying to match her fierce eyes. “I’m not going to lose anyone anymore. None of us is.”
“Thank you.” Her expression softens minutely, and then her eyes dart to Yorl. “Make sure you parse the runes in the Dark Below correctly, and you can finish reading Tolwin’s Theocratics on the ship. I had the kitchens pack dried ginger to chew in case of seasickness—”
“Sage,” Yorl repeats, his muzzle pulling into a rare smile. “I’ll be fine.”
She steps back. “Yes. Well. Off with you, then.”
As we walk up the gangplank, I look over at Yorl. “You didn’t tell me your mother’s human.”
He rolls his eyes. “She’s not my mother.”
I chuckle, and then, “Is it really okay? You worked so hard to get here, and now you’re leaving.”
His tail thrashes. “Grandfather would’ve wanted it. He spent his whole life trying to unravel the mysteries of the valkerax. If I go with you, I can see his life’s work through to the end.”
I open my mouth to tell him about his grandfather, that I saw him. But I did tell him, didn’t I? I relayed the message that Muro is proud of him. That’s all he asked of me.
If I tell Yorl about seeing Muro, he’ll ask what Muro said. He’d press and press me, and I wouldn’t be able to resist him. I trust him. I would tell him; I know I would. I’d tell Yorl every last thing about the Tree of Souls, and how Muro implied it might’ve chosen me to put it back together.