Lady Renegades (20 page)

S
AYLOR HAD
trained me in sword fighting, but that had been back when I actually had my powers, and then, I'd been swinging a sword at practice dummies, not someone I loved.

Not David.

But I swung now for all I was worth, even as every muscle in my arms screamed.

I hadn't been quite fast enough—the bolt of magic still flew from David's palm, and I heard Blythe cry out from behind me—but I didn't think he'd hurt her all that badly. He'd barely had any time before I was on him, and then all his concentration was on me, flinging more glowing bolts from his hands, the magic hitting the metal of my sword and throwing up sparks.

“David, please,” I heard myself say in a voice that didn't sound anything like mine. It was desperate and choked and raspy, and the words seemed to come up from somewhere deep inside me. “Please.”

David's hands were working almost as fast as my arms, the two of us stalking each other around the cave. “You'll kill me,” he said, and this time there was less of the echo—less of the
Oracle—in his voice, more of just David. “I saw it. I've always seen it.”

He threw a particularly strong bolt that had me wincing even as I deflected it, and I was pretty sure I felt something give in my shoulders. I was strong, but not strong enough, not without my powers.

Still, I held my ground. “Not everything you see comes true,” I said to him, sweat and tears stinging my eyes. “David, you know that. You said it yourself, that you see”—I broke off as another jolt reverberated off the sword—“what
could
happen. This—” Taking a deep breath, I ignored all the pain in my body and said, “It doesn't have to happen.”

He paused. Not for long, just the space of a heartbeat, and I held my breath, praying.

Blythe was behind me, and while I couldn't see her, I could sense her presence and could tell when David suddenly remembered she was there, too. But then something in his face changed, and I glanced back to see that Bee had joined Blythe there, both of them staring at me with wide eyes, Blythe's hands out like she was pleading. “Do it!” she yelled out. “Harper, you have to!”

David lifted his own hand, and there was nothing in his face of the boy I'd loved now. Not one part of him that wasn't Oracle.

I could feel pressure—magic—building, my ears popping with the force of it, and then David looked right at me with those glowing eyes and said one word: “Choose.”

It was like everything suddenly slowed down. I felt the weight of the sword in my hand, saw the golden light crackling between
David's fingers, and knew that whatever magic he had there, whatever spell he was about to throw at Bee and Blythe, it was strong enough to kill.

So I chose.

It's harder to drive a sword through someone than you could ever think, and even harder when you love that person. Too hard, almost unbearable, and I felt my own heart shatter as I shoved the blade through his chest.

There was a distant roaring in my ears, and the light faded from David's eyes, his hands dropping limply to his sides as he hit his knees. When he lifted his head, there was still a lot of golden light in his eyes, but not so much that I couldn't see some of the blue beneath it. “Harper,” he murmured, and then he slumped to the cave floor, eyes sliding closed.

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.”

T
HE FIRST
DAY
of senior year dawned hot and sticky, the way the beginning of every school year started. August in Alabama was a real beast, but there was something nice about it, the way that first blast of air-conditioning hit you when you walked into the school buildings, the way we were all still in summer clothes, the sharp scent of just-cut grass in the air.

This was the year I'd been looking forward to since I'd started school. The year I'd always dreamed that everything would happen for me. Another Homecoming crown, college acceptance letters, cheering at fall football games . . .

But as I made my way through that first day, I couldn't escape the feeling of something missing. And of course, there was something missing. Or rather, someone.

Lord knew I'd spent a lot of time thinking of David lately. Once we'd gotten safely back to Pine Grove, once some of the shock of all that had happened had faded, I'd felt ashamed of how I'd left things in Tennessee. I should've gone back to the cave, shouldn't have let my grief and my fear of seeing him lying
there—really, truly dead—keep me from saying good-bye. From seeing him one more time.

But I was determined to put those thoughts out of my head. I had a senior year to ace and a school to run. It was time to turn my attentions back to those responsibilities.

The twins were in the parking lot, as usual, both in the same color—pink today—and while Amanda's hair flowed loose over her shoulders, Abi's had been chopped into a cute bob over the summer.

“I like!” I told her, gesturing to my own hair, and with a little shriek, she ran toward me, Amanda close behind. They both threw their arms around me, locking me in a hug that smelled like Clinique perfume and lavender. To my surprise, I almost teared up.

“Girl, we
missed
you!” Amanda said, and Abi nodded, nearly bumping the top of my head with her chin.

Before I'd left, the twins had been avoiding me, either from the weirdness last spring, or just because they hadn't exactly been high up on my list of priorities, either.

The twins pulled back, watching me with identical hazel eyes, and then Abi frowned a little and said, “You're going to help tutor me in AP Government, right? I have no idea why I signed up for that.”

Laughing, I nodded. “You got it.”

Leaving the two of them at the courtyard, I walked into the main building, waving at a couple of people—Lucy McCarroll; Bee's ex, Brandon—and made my way toward the lockers.

Ryan and Bee were already waiting for me, and I rolled my eyes at them even as I smiled. “Y'all gonna walk me to class?”

“Yes,” Ryan said immediately, and Bee elbowed him in the ribs. “We were hoping not to be so obvious,” she said, moving her bag to her other arm, “but . . . okay, what he said.”

“You remember the part where I said that I really am okay, right?” I asked both of them, looking up into their faces. “How we had this whole moment when me and Bee got back, there at the Waffle Hut, and y'all were like, ‘Are you okay?' and then I confirmed I
was
indeed okay, and we all said the word ‘okay' so many times, it stopped sounding like a word? Remember all of that? It was quite a moment.”

Ryan reached out and, honest to God, ruffled my hair. “Hey!” I said, laughing a little as I stepped back. “We're not dating anymore, but that doesn't mean you get to treat me like your rapscallion cousin.”

“‘Rapscallion,'” Bee scoffed, and I gave a shrug, smoothing my hair back into place.

“Boning up on my SAT vocabulary,” I said, and she winced.

“Don't say ‘boning.'”

All three of us laughed, and for a second, it was like nothing had changed. “I'll meet you dorks for lunch,” I told them, “in the courtyard, usual table.”

After confirming that Bee and I did have our second-period class together, we headed off: Ryan and Bee to first-period Spanish, while I went in the opposite direction, heading for the headmaster's office. As reigning SGA president, it was my responsibility to meet with any new students we might have this
year in twelfth grade. I hadn't heard of anyone, but then it wasn't like I'd been focusing a huge amount on school stuff lately.

There was a flurry of activity around the main office, but that was always the way it was on the first day, and I was already thinking ahead to my own first-period class (AP French—at least half of my schedule was AP classes this year) when the office door opened and someone came hurrying out.

I was looking down as we collided, staring at the person's shoes, a truly heinous pair of houndstooth Chucks, and wasn't sure if my sharp inhale was from who those shoes reminded me of or the force of the collision. “Oh!” I gasped, my bag slipping off my arm.

I glanced down at it, only to find myself almost gasping again when I looked up.

David.

“Ah, God, sorry,” he said, reaching for my bag and sliding it back up onto my shoulder. He barely touched me as he did it, his eyes not quite on my face while I stood there, my mouth hanging open, everything in me seeming to somehow go still and speed up all at once. My face felt numb, my hands suddenly freezing, and I had the bizarre idea that maybe I wasn't even at school. Maybe I'd fallen asleep, and—

But then the door opened behind him, and Blythe was standing there in a sensible sweater set and khaki skinny jeans, her dark hair caught up in a chignon at the back of her neck. She looked older than I was used to seeing her, although that weird little glint was still there in her eyes. This time, it looked a lot like triumph.

I realized David was still staring at me, and I made myself look at him.

His sandy hair wasn't sticking up, but then it wasn't fourth period yet. The freckles spreading across his face seemed darker against his slight blush, and his eyes behind his glasses were blue.

Just blue. Not a speck of gold to be seen.

But they were also a little blank as they looked at me. Well, not totally blank. There was some curiosity and, I thought, a little bit of appreciation there, but in that “dude looks at a pretty girl” way.

He didn't know who I was.

My eyes flew past David to Blythe, but before she could say anything, Headmaster Dunn came out in his customary first-day brown suit and green bow tie. “Ah, Harper, excellent. This is David Stark.” He clapped David on the shoulder, and David winced a little bit, probably because Headmaster Dunn was wrinkling his shirt.

His lime-green pin-striped shirt.

Blythe might have done something to make him forget everything that had happened, but apparently she hadn't been able to give him new dress sense.

“David, Harper is one of our finest students,” Headmaster Dunn continued, like he'd never met David before in his life. Like David hadn't gone to this school since kindergarten, same as me. Again, I glanced to Blythe, and she smirked at me, wiggling her fingers behind Headmaster Dunn's back.

I didn't want to be impressed with that level of mind-control
magic, but seeing as how the last time I saw David, he'd been bleeding out on the floor of a cave in Tennessee, I wasn't going to complain.

Headmaster Dunn was still talking—I know he called Blythe David's “sister” at one point—but all I could do was stare at David while trying to pretend I
wasn't
staring at him. He looked so . . . him. Ugly clothes, sharp gaze, hair neater, but probably just seconds away from being a disaster . . .

Headmaster Dunn turned to leave, and as he did, David looked to me, eyebrows raised over the rims of his glasses.

“So I guess you're my tour guide?” he said, and a dimple appeared in his cheek as he smiled.

I found myself smiling back even as I was terrified to even hope it could work out like this.

“Yeah,” I said, “let me . . . let me just chat with your, uh, sister for a sec.”

I stepped aside, and Blythe moved closer, her back to David, her head lowered so that she could pitch her voice just for my ears.

“I kick so much ass, right?” she asked, smile wide, eyes bright, and despite everything, I laughed. It was shaky and maybe a little unhinged, but it was a laugh.

“How?” I asked, and then suddenly, I knew. “The other spell. The one that freaked Dante out.”

She nodded. “Resurrection spell. Terrifying, and nothing I
ever
want to try again, but—”

“It worked,” I finished.

“I told you,” she said, fiddling with the hem of her sweater. I
had no idea how she wasn't sweating to death, but she definitely looked the part of Responsible Older Sister Guardian. “I am
so
badass. Granted, those spells were a lot easier to do on someone who was more or less dead than it would have been a conscious, pissed-off rogue Oracle.”

Folding her arms over her chest, Blythe continued. “Although trust me, that was nothing compared to the work it took to get your whole freaking town to forget David had been here before.”

For a second, I just blinked at her, afraid I might do something crazy like cry. But instead, I did something even crazier.

I hugged her.

She just stood there as I squeezed her tight, but after a minute, I felt her arms come up tentatively to wrap around me, too, and when we pulled away, she was smiling at me. A real smile. Little and hesitant, but not even the littlest bit unhinged.

“
This
is redemption, right?” she asked. “Like you talked about? I mean, I fixed it. Granted, it's possible he's going to remember eventually, and that's gonna be a real pain in the ass, but—”

I nodded at her, suddenly aware of David watching us curiously. He had to wonder why I was hugging his sister, and we'd probably lingered here too long. So I took a deep breath through my nose and backed up from Blythe.

“Consider yourself redeemed,” I told her.

A dimple appeared in her cheek as she gave a quick nod, clearly satisfied, and then her gaze slid to David. “Have a good first day,” she told him. “I'll . . . make dinner. Or something.”

David shrugged his shoulders, and I found myself wondering
just how that living arrangement was going to work. The idea of Blythe as anyone's guardian was a little scary, but then I reminded myself that David had done a good job on his own after Saylor was gone, so maybe he'd survive having Blythe as a roommate.

I turned back to him now, feeling almost like I should pinch myself. He was so . . .
here.

He smiled a little at me, then gestured for me to lead the way. I did, rattling off facts about the school, about the town, anything I could think of even as my mind whirled. In the cave, Blythe had said she had a way to fix him so that he wouldn't be an Oracle anymore, but I'd never thought we'd get to start over, clean slate.

I'd spent my whole life with David Stark, pretty much. Hating him, loving him, protecting him, and, eventually, killing him. Starting over as strangers was going to hurt, even as I wanted to do cartwheels down the hall that he was here, that we had made it through this.

I hadn't realized that I was leading him toward the newspaper classroom until we were there in front of it, and I paused, awkwardly playing with the silver ring on my right hand as I gestured to the door. “This is Journalism,” I told him, gesturing at the door, and I realized that I was waiting for him to show some sign of recognition. Blythe had said he might remember one day, and while she'd been convinced it would be a “pain in the ass,” I thought maybe—just maybe—it would be a good thing.

Ducking his head to look inside the little window set in the door, David raised his eyebrows.

“Cool. What's your school paper like? I love that kind of thing.”

My heart felt so full it seemed like there couldn't be any room left in my chest. “It's good,” I told him, “although the last editor was kind of a jerk.”

He snorted at that, reaching up to push his glasses up his nose. It was the most familiar gesture in the world, and I found myself looking into his eyes. His blue, blue eyes fringed by long lashes. Just regular eyes in a regular face on a regular boy.

“So what do you do around here?” he asked, and I folded my arms, giving a little shrug. “Everything, really,” I told him. “Cheerleading, a few committees, SGA president . . .”

That made one corner of his mouth kick up. There had been a time when I would have kissed that spot, just where a little dimple formed. I couldn't do that now, of course.

But it wouldn't always be that way. I believed that with all my heart.

“SGA president, huh?” he asked. “So can I call you Pres?”

It took me a second to reply, but when I did, my smile was so big, it actually hurt my face.

“Yeah. Yeah, you can.”