The Book of Love (19 page)

“Lucy, this is everyone,” Kai said. The girls and women looked up and smiled. They looked friendly and artsy and smart, like they all probably read a lot of books and volunteered at animal shelters and made their own stained glass or ran a literary magazine. “Guys,” said Kai. “This is Lucy. The one I told you about.”

“You told them about me?”

Kai nodded. “I thought you might try to find us.”

“You did?”

“When we watched the fireworks together, I just . . . had a feeling.”

“So it wasn’t random coincidence that you were at SoundWave, was it?”

Kai shook her head. “We knew Beacon Drew was on the HHB’s list.” Lucy’s eyebrows shot up at the mention. Kai smiled at Lucy’s surprise. “The Heartbreakers are a powerful bunch, but we have a few tricks of our own. We knew the concert would be filled with Heartbreakers. And where there are Heartbreakers, there are the heartbroken. And the
people who need us tend to find us. I guess this time, that was you.”

“Who are you?” said Lucy.

“We’re the League of Violets. But some people just call us the LOVs.”

“And . . . what are you? Are you connected to the Heartbreakers somehow?”

Kai shook her head again. “We’re just people who’ve had our hearts broken.”

“Are you . . .”—it sounded so silly to say—“magic?”

“Let’s put it this way: We know how to access certain forces that most people do not. But we don’t do it very often. We like life the way it is.”

“And what do you all
do
?”

“We have fun, we make art, we fall in love.” She pointed to the tattoo on her chest. “Our symbol is the violet. Every night they close up, but when morning comes, violets open and point themselves toward the light. Every morning, again and again, no matter how dark the darkness was.”

“That’s . . .” She wanted to say
really beautiful
, but the words sounded too stupid in her head, so she was silent.

“And if we happen to meet someone who needs us to remind them that that choice exists for them too, we do it.”

Lucy nodded.

Kai smiled. “So now we’ve told you who we are,” she said. “Who are you?”

“What do you want to know?”

“How about you start at the beginning,” Kai said.

So Lucy did. “Less than two months ago, I had my heart broken and I thought it was the worst moment of my life.” Lucy looked down. “I was wrong about that.” And she went
on. She told them about Alex, about Tristan, about meeting Olivia, about completing their Heartbreaker family. She told them about her parents, about the Breakies and
The Book of Love
. About not being able to cry at all and then finally crying and seeing that violet blooming there as though her tear had made the flower grow. She told them how very, very badly she knew she wanted her heart back, even though every moment she could feel that less and less.

When Lucy was done, Kai smiled as though nothing Lucy had said or could say would ever shock her. She motioned to a spot on the couch. Lucy let herself sink into it. Kai walked away, and when she returned a moment later, she was holding a violet silk drawstring satchel.

“We will try to help you the best we can,” said Kai. “But there’s good news and bad news.”

From the satchel she removed a piece of carved amethyst. “This is the mold for what is known as a Rebreaking Blade.” She held it out. “It’s hollow, but if a powerful Heartbreaker fills it with brokenhearted tears and pulls up energy from the center of the earth, a blade will form inside it. Then the mold is smashed away, and what’s left is a blade made of tears, pain solidified. It is the only thing strong enough to get through the impenetrable wall of an unbreakable heart.”

“So what does that mean? How does it work?”

Kai took a breath. “You have to stab yourself in the heart.”

“Is it . . .” Lucy knew it was a stupid question as she heard the words come out of her mouth. “Safe?”

Kai looked down. “No. Not even when it works exactly as it’s supposed to.” When she looked back up, all trace of a smile was gone from her lips. “When it works perfectly, all
the feelings you avoided by having an unbreakable heart come back to you and demand to be felt, all at once. That means the heartbreak you were escaping in the first place, and everything else that happened to you in the time your heart wasn’t working, and all the guilt over all the hearts you broke. But it’s not just that. You also have to feel the pain of all the boys who cried the tears that make up your blade. When the blade enters your heart, you absorb whatever was left of their heartbreaks, and their hearts heal back.”

“Wow,” said Lucy. “That’s . . .”

Kai nodded. “The grief drives people crazy sometimes. But that’s only if you get the chance to feel it, which is the very best case. In order for it to work at all, your heart has to be filled with enough love to deflect the blade and keep it from . . .” Kai trailed off.

“To keep it from what?”

“If your heart is empty, then the blade will affect it like any regular blade would.” Her voice was only a whisper now. “Which means . . .”

Lucy looked up. She felt all the blood drain from her face, and a prickle of terror poked through her impenetrable heart. Kai didn’t have to finish because Lucy understood perfectly. Getting an unbreakable heart had ended her life. Getting her old heart back could kill her.

“It’s why we never just outright offer the blade to Heartbreakers—they have to really want it, they have to come and find us.”

Lucy’s entire body was tingling. The room was silent. “Okay,” said Lucy slowly. She took a breath. “So then what’s the good news?”

Kai sucked air in through her teeth. “That was the good news. The bad news is that only an incredibly powerful Heartbreaker can make the blade. How many hearts have you broken?”

“Two,” Lucy said. “The one I broke to join, and one other.”

Kai looked for a moment very sad and very sorry. “Then you’re not powerful enough yet.”

“And you can’t make it for me, I’m guessing,” Lucy said.

“I wish we could.”

“So how many do I have to break to make it?” Lucy felt her face grow hot.

“A hundred.”

“You’re joking.” Lucy’s words hung in the air. “Even Olivia hasn’t broken that many.”

But of course, Kai wasn’t joking at all. And there was nothing to say beyond that. Lucy knew she’d never get to a hundred hearts. Even if she had the skill for it, she didn’t have the stomach. All those boys brokenhearted. For what? So she could undo her own terrible mistake?

“I don’t know what to say,” Lucy said.

“I’m really sorry,” Kai said. “I’m sorry it isn’t easier than this.”

Lucy was too numb to feel the crushing disappointment that she knew was just behind that wall surrounding her heart.

What would she do now? How would she live the rest of her life like this?

In the kitchen, someone stood. She was watching Lucy as she started walking toward her. When their eyes met, Lucy felt a flash of recognition. But who was she?

The woman had thick white hair, ice-blue eyes, and high-sculpted cheekbones. She was wearing a flowing sapphire top and loose black silk pants. A huge amber necklace hung from her neck, and she had a ring on every finger. She was tall and held herself like a queen. Lucy realized where she’d seen her before.

“I think we know someone in common,” Lucy said.

She stared at the face of the woman in front of her. She’d seen this woman in black and white, forty years younger in a portrait in Olivia’s living room. She’d been in this woman’s closet, worn this woman’s clothes, heard stories about her, and read her very own words written in
The Book of Love
. This was Eleanor de Lune, Olivia’s grandmother. Olivia’s grandmother who was supposed to be dead.

“Yes,” Eleanor said coolly. “I believe that we do.”

“You’re . . . ,” Lucy whispered.

“Alive?” said Eleanor. She arched one dark eyebrow, just the way Olivia would have. “Apparently.”

“Does she know?”

Eleanor nodded. Then stood there, silently. She looked like she was making a decision. “May I?” she said to Kai. Kai nodded. Eleanor took the Rebreaking Blade mold and slipped it in her big straw tote. She held out her hand to Lucy. “Come with me,” she said. “I need to show you something.”

Lucy hugged Kai and bid her good-byes to this warm house, to the girls and women inside it.

“You’re welcome here anytime,” Kai said.

But Lucy knew she would not be back.

Thirty

L
ucy followed Eleanor out the door, around a corner, and up to a small yellow house with an apple tree in the front yard. Eleanor led her inside into its cozy living room. There was an enormous bouquet of sunset-colored flowers on a light wooden table, an eggplant-colored couch sat behind it, and underneath was a slightly worn Native American–looking rug laid out on the polished wood floors. Quiet music was playing in the background, pan flutes mixed with the sounds of the ocean.

Through one window, Lucy spotted a small backyard, where an older gentleman was sitting at a table, two giant black dogs curled up at his feet. Eleanor waved at him. He blew her a kiss. Then Eleanor motioned for Lucy to sit.

“I have a couple of things to give you, if you don’t mind.”

Lucy nodded.

Eleanor walked to a roll-top desk, opened the drawer, and took out a thick stack of letters.
RETURN TO SENDER
was written on the back of each in Olivia’s slanted script
.
Eleanor took one off the top. “I’ve been trying to get a letter to my granddaughter for two and a half years. Maybe you’ll have better luck. Read it yourself if you want.” She handed the envelope to Lucy.

Then Eleanor reached up and removed a necklace, a small one that had been hidden behind the amber. She held up a thin gold chain from which dangled an intricately carved locket. “I’ve been saving this for her too.” Eleanor took Lucy’s hand and lowered the locket down into it. The metal was warm. Lucy stared at it. It looked familiar, and Lucy realized why she recognized it. She’d seen it in the photo in the back of Olivia’s closet.

“The hospital gave it to me after my daughter died,” Eleanor said. “Olivia should have it. Her mother would have wanted her to.” There were tears in Eleanor’s eyes. “Go ahead, look inside.”

Lucy pried the halves apart. In one side there was a photograph of a woman cradling a baby, gazing at the baby with a look of pure love. In the other half of the locket there was a tiny violet behind glass. “The woman is my daughter, and the baby is Olivia, of course. I don’t know where the violet came from. My daughter wasn’t a Heartbreaker and would never have known of the LOVs. It’s probably just a coincidence. Or maybe”—Eleanor smiled—“it’s just a bit of magic.” She paused. “But that isn’t why I brought you here.”
She went back to the roll-top desk, and from the top drawer she removed a small silver box. “This is,” she said. She handed it to Lucy. “Open it.”

Lucy lifted the lid and stared down at a pile of withered purple petals.

“Those are enchanted violets,” said Eleanor. “I made them a very long time ago, back when I was still a Heartbreaker and still had the power to make such things. I made them for Olivia in case she ever wanted them. But the more time that passes, the less hope I have that she’ll ever want them. And the right thing to do is to give them to someone who will actually use them, instead of save them for someone who probably never will. When you’re ready, brew them into a tea and drink.”

“And then what?”

“Then you’ll be powerful enough to make the blade, without having to break any more hearts. You’ll still need to somehow find the tears to fill the mold with, but you’ll at least be capable of crafting it when you have them.”

“I . . . ,” Lucy started to say. She stared down at the tiny silver box. She wanted to thank her, but it was all too much. “I don’t even know how to . . .”

“You don’t need to.” Eleanor took Lucy’s hand in hers. “I turned Olivia into a Heartbreaker, and she turned you into one. You could say I owe you this.” Eleanor took a deep breath and looked Lucy right in the eye. “But be careful. The violets will make you more powerful than any person should ever be. Make your peace with this world before you drink the tea because once you do, you might not come back.”

Then she took Lucy’s shoulders and pulled her in for a hug.

“If you . . .” She stopped. “If this goes okay, maybe you’ll come by and visit me sometime? Tell me how my granddaughter is doing?”

Lucy nodded. “I promise I will.”

The door to the backyard opened and the man from outside walked in, the two dogs circling his feet.

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” he said.

Eleanor quickly wiped her eyes and she smiled. “No, of course not,” she said. “Lucy, this is Harry. Harry, honey, this is Lucy.”

Harry smiled and tipped his hat. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand and shook Lucy’s. Then leaned down and kissed Eleanor on the cheek. Eleanor flushed and turned toward Harry. Their eyes met. And Lucy did not need any kind of potion to see just what this was.

Thirty-One