Everything was still for a moment, and then I felt Bee’s hands on my shoulders, holding me close as Blythe stepped forward, falling to her knees beside David.
Blythe knelt on the rock next to David, his blood staining her yellow dress. The sword in my hands felt like it weighed about a million pounds, and I let it drop with a clatter that echoed through the cave. Tears and sweat were running down my face, and I had never been so tired in all my life. Sinking down, I crouched next to Blythe, and my voice was hoarse when I said, “It’s over. Is that why you came after us? To make sure I’d do it?”
Blythe’s fingers fluttered over David’s wound, and she was shaking her head. “No,” she said, “I mean. Yes. I came to make sure you’d go through with it, that you’d see it was the only way we could . . .”
Trailing off, she looked at David, her own face nearly as pale as his. “This doesn’t feel like we fixed it,” she said at last, and all I could do was nod, biting my lip to keep from sobbing.
“I thought it would,” she said, and her hand finally touched David’s chest, his blood bright against her fingers. “I honestly thought this was the best way.”
Keeping my eyes on the crown of her head rather than David’s body, I took a deep breath and said, “It was, in the end. It was the only way. You were right, Blythe. I’m not sure there was any spell that could’ve saved him.”
And then I felt Blythe’s hand on mine and tried to ignore the heave in my stomach at how warm and sticky her grip felt, her palms still smeared with blood. “I could still try,” she said, and I opened my eyes then, blinking at her.
“Blythe—”
“No, I can,” she said, one hand still on mine, the other on David’s chest. “It isn’t too late, I don’t think. I can try . . .”
I just shook my head. “He’s dead, Blythe.”
But Blythe only turned back to David, hand still pressed to his chest. “Just a little bit,” she replied, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like someone could be “a little bit dead.”
And then she looked back at me. “Do you trust me, Harper?”
Weirdly enough, in spite of everything, I did. Or maybe because of everything. Blythe had never lied to us. She had earned at least a little trust.
I nodded, and she reached out to clasp my shoulder, leaving a bloody handprint behind.
Turning back to David, she kept her hands on his chest, murmuring low, but nothing seemed to be happening.
She pressed her hands harder, started speaking again, a little louder this time, and I waited.
But there was nothing. No sound, no breath, no sense in my chest of that pull between me and David, and on the third time, I decided I couldn’t just sit there and watch this, couldn’t let myself even start to hope that she was right. It felt easier to get up, to walk out of the cave and into the sunlight.
Bee followed behind me, and once we were outside, she looked at me for a second before stepping forward and wrapping me in a hug so tight I swore my bones creaked. She was so much taller than me that my nose was smushed against her collarbone, but I didn’t care. For a long while, we just stood there on the path outside the cave, our arms locked around each other.
“We did it,” she said, her voice thick. “You did it.”
It should’ve felt like a triumph, but all I felt was hollow. I’d kept David from turning any more hapless girls into Paladins, and ensured that he’d never be another Alaric, a dangerous Oracle who could wreak havoc and hurt the people I loved.
But I’d lost him, so what did it matter?
“You don’t believe her, do you?” she said to me once we parted, and I could just shake my head. I wanted to believe it, and Blythe had definitely used some powerful magic in the past, but I’d hoped too many times now for miracles or easy fixes, and been disappointed every time. In the end, I’d done what I came here to do, and it was over now.
Over.
Bee and I trudged back down the trail, and I made sure to roll up the sleeve of my T-shirt to hide the bloodstain there. I’d left the sword back in the cave, and I hoped I’d never have to see it again.
We were all the way to the bottom of the mountain when a sort of booming vibration stopped us both in our tracks.
Turning, I looked back up the mountain and saw a flock of birds whirl screeching into the sky, and I waited there, wanting to feel . . . something.
Some sign that that sound had come from a cave tucked deep in the woods where Blythe had worked a miracle. I waited to feel the tug to David that I always felt, like an invisible cord was connecting us.
But there was no feeling, no sense of anything other than loss and exhaustion. I felt the same way I had when I’d plunged that sword into him. He was gone, and I could sense it with every cell. No Oracle, no David.
Nothing.
And after a long while, I turned to Bee and said, “Let’s go home.”
Chapter 36