Send Me Their Souls (Bring Me Their Hearts #3) - Sara Wolf Page 0,145
to me. I can see their worry, their fears, their tension drawn tight like bowstrings in their eyes. Fione most of all. Lucien most most of all.
I make my smile as big and warm as I can. “Well, then. Time to take a nap.”
We find a quiet place behind a boulder, and Lucien sits. He motions for me to put my head in his lap, and I do. Rest, at last.
I thought it would be hard, this last sleep. But it’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done. Surrounded by friends. Cradled by love. Lulled by the Tree welcoming me. The smell of lavender, of vanilla, of Lucien’s honey.
His kiss to my cheek, and then I’m gone.
31
THE WYRM,
COILING
The first time I ever see the beautiful seaside country of Avel, it’s in dreams. And covered in blood.
Blood drips from my fingers like slick, gleaming syrup—half of my fingers made of wood. Varia. I’m in her body again, watching through her eyes and feeling what she does. A port town in front of us on fire, the proud redwood of Avellish buildings charring quickly to black. Valkerax circle above, ten of them flying in rainbow halos—no, twenty. Thirty. Fifty, at least, catching high air above the port town like a lazy tornado of untold death. Their tails fly out behind them, the white banners of victory giving us only a fraction of satisfaction before the clenching pain of the maddening song returns.
I focus on it, focus on how it’s not my hunger, not my song, and pull myself out of Varia’s body. Floaty, and visible to her now. She can see me and I can see her, but neither of us is happy to. Her body is drenched in blood—the rags of her dress so far gone, barely covering her at all, her skin caked in blood and dirt and rubbery, fleshy patches that I know aren’t hers. Parts. Parts of people. Her cheeks are sallow, gaunt, her wrists thin and her collarbone stark. She looks famished—starving, her ribs showing through in her shreds of dress. But her face is the worst of all, her expression hollowed out, empty of anything resembling thought or emotion. Like a doll. No—emptier than even a doll. A glass shell, transparent and thin. It hurts just to look at.
Varia, I think to her.
She doesn’t blink, her deep black eyes staring at the same space over my shoulder, the flames of the Avellish port burning gold in her irises. I try to get closer to her, even if the idea scares me more than any nightmare—if she touches me, she could turn me to her side. I felt it last time, and I can feel it now. She’s more Bone Tree than mortal. I can feel it ringing in the air. Powerful. So powerful that as a fire-cracked beam falls from a nearby house and onto her, she barely twitches one finger before it instantly explodes into a fine cloud of ember splinters.
“Varia,” I say softly. “It’s me. Zera.”
Her eyes move only at the last word, flickering over to look at me. All my insides turn to ice at her gaze—there’s nothing. None of Varia behind those eyes. No mirth, no pride, no grace, no determination, no cruelty. Just…nothing.
“Th-They’re worried about you,” I stammer. “Everyone. Fione most of all.”
Another flicker of her eyes, this time inward. She still recognizes names. That’s good—she’s not too far gone. I can still bring her back. But first, I have to goad the thing inside her. Draw it out like a poison.
My ghostly, half-dream gaze travels down to her neck, the Bone Tree choker made of valkerax fangs seemingly tighter in her skin, digging points into her flesh that drip blood. Her own blood, for once.
It really is eating her.
“I heard”—I try a smile—“you’re going to name your kid after me, aren’t you?”
Varia blinks slowly but betrays nothing.
“But what if it’s a boy?” I hum softly. “Hmm. Zeran might work. With an N. Fione might hate that one, though—you’ll have to confer with her.”
Varia’s face twitches as if something is fighting inside her, thrashing with no escape, so deep down, it can only ripple her surface. She’s still in there. Her love for Fione, her hopes for the future—she still has hope. Hope that I’ll save her. That this will end, and that she’ll live to see another world made with her love at her side. An impossible wish, she must