The Fiery Heart (13 page)

“Oh, Sydney,” Zoe lamented. “Why is she doing this?”

“Because she loves you,” I said quietly.

“That's not love.”

I was glad Zoe didn't elaborate because I was pretty sure I wouldn't have been able to keep my cool in the face of whatever shallow definitions of love she would've undoubtedly come up with.

“Mom's not going to be able to match all of Dad's educational and cultural talk,” I observed. “All she'll have is anecdotal stuff to go on. Like that time you broke your foot.”

“It was my whole leg,” Zoe said quietly. I didn't say anything else. I didn't have to, judging from the faraway look in her eyes. When Zoe was little, she'd wanted to take gymnastics, so our mom had made it happen. An accident at a meet had broken Zoe's leg, and she'd had to spend the night in the hospital, which was devastating since it was the same night as her team's victory party. Mom had made arrangements to bring the team and the party to the hospital room, much to the staff's astonishment. Zoe, craving social contact back then, had loved it. Our dad had thought the incident was proof of how worthless the class was.

When I drove the gang to Clarence's later that evening, I heard a text come in on the Love Phone in my purse. Strict principles against texting and driving kept me away from it, but it wasn't easy. That, and I tried not to get the phone out when others were around. As soon as we were walking up Clarence's driveway, however, I pulled it out and read Adrian's message:
Escape plan #5: Open an alpaca ranch in Texas, one that requires all blond-haired, brown-eyed, brainy girls to wear sexy cowgirl outfits.
I reread the words and smiled before deleting it, just like I did all of his messages. Jill caught my eye as she passed and smiled back at me. Sometimes her inner knowledge was creepy. Sometimes, it was like a comforting diary, having someone who knew about my romance. I really didn't like a life of secrets, even if I'd been raised to live one.

None of us were great company tonight. I was down over Adrian, Jill over her Neil/Eddie dilemma, Angeline over Trey, and Zoe over our parents. Only Eddie and Clarence seemed to be having a good time—well, and Dorothy, once she was swimming on the high of having given Jill her blood. Clarence was in one of his more coherent moments and was regaling us with some of his tales of traveling, back when he was younger and hadn't withdrawn from the Moroi world. One of his stories mentioned visiting a small exclusively dhampir training academy in Italy that had an excellent reputation. Eddie hung on every detail that Clarence could muster up.

“Deadly on the inside, beautiful on the outside. The entire roof of the building was a viewing deck, and students often spent their evenings—after training, of course—sitting out with espresso and watching the views of Lake Garda.” He frowned. “Can't recall its Italian name.”

“Lago di Garda,” I said automatically.

“Ah, yes. That was it. And it wasn't too far from Verona, either. You could get a little Shakespearean insight.” He chuckled.

Zoe looked up from the remnants of her pizza and made a rare show of engaging Clarence. “Don't mention him.”

“Why ever not? He's a great writer. And I thought you were such a literature fan too.”

Zoe nodded toward me. “That's her. I have to write about one of his plays and don't have a book. I can't believe she's making us e-mail her our choice tomorrow. On a Saturday! I'll have to hunt down an online version on my laptop when we get home.”

“I see.” Clarence smiled magnanimously. “Well, why don't you just borrow one of mine?”

For a minute, I thought Clarence meant she could borrow a laptop, which would be mind-blowing since, last I checked, the microwave was the most high-tech item in the house. Then, thinking of how every room contained shelves of books, I understood. “You've got some of his plays?” I asked.

“All of them. They're in the extra storage in the garage. You're welcome to go browse.”

“Do you have . . .” Zoe glanced at me questioningly. “What was it,
A Midsummer Night's Dream
?”

“Of course,” said Clarence. “A great piece on love.”

I scoffed. “I don't know about that. It's mostly a series of zany hijinks set against a magical backdrop.”

“Didn't you say we were practically living it?” Zoe asked.

“Love, in my experience,” began Clarence, “generally
is
a series of zany hijinks.”

“Love is . . .” An old memory with Adrian came back to me, and some of the turbulent emotion I always carried within me these days welled up in my chest. It was stupid, feeling so lovesick when he'd been gone less than a day, but I couldn't get him or the ways he described love out of my head. “. . . a flame in the dark. A breath of warmth on a winter's night. A star that guides you home.” When I realized everyone was staring at me, I quickly tried to redirect. “I read those in a book. You should check out Clarence's library, Zoe. If you don't get
Midsummer
, there might still be something else you'll like.”

As soon as I saw her go pale, I knew I'd succeeded in my distraction. Everyone turned from me to her, though Eddie took the longest. I could immediately guess what she was thinking. Exploring a vampire's garage was akin to going into a crypt, in her eyes. She probably expected to find coffins. I smiled.

“Want me to go with you?” I was kind of curious to see what his “extra storage” contained.

“Would you?” she asked, her head bobbing up and down.

“Of course.” I felt a small surge of warmth at doing this seemingly miniscule thing for her. I hadn't forgotten her earlier comments about whether we were sisters or colleagues, and comforting her in a scary place was something I used to do when she was little.

As it turned out, though, Clarence's garage was a complete and total contrast to the Gothic stateliness of the rest of his home. His little-used Porsche was parked inside it, making Zoe gape. There were gardening tools and home-improvement tools, a water heater, a workbench, and a whole area dedicated to boxed books. I cringed a little at that last one. Palm Springs might not be as damp as other places, but it was still an unnecessary risk to the books. I helped Zoe find the box of Shakespeare and then left her to make her own choice, warning her to read the backs and not go by length. Glancing at some of Clarence's other books, I saw a collection of poetry that I pulled out and tucked under my arm for Adrian.

As Zoe continued searching, I found a seat on a stool and made a comfortable footrest out of a bag of gravel. Certain Zoe was engrossed in her task, I covertly took out my cell phone in case I'd missed any messages from Adrian. I hadn't. I jotted out:
Got you a book of poetry. Maybe shorter pieces will be easier than Gatsby.
Clinging to hope, I stared at the screen and willed a response to come. Nothing came, and I had to remind myself he was away on business and probably enmeshed in the spirit case.

I shifted my feet, and a few small rocks fell out of the gravel bag. Except, when I took a closer look, I realized it was a bag of rock salt used for de-icing. Judging from the dirt and grime covering the bag, it didn't see much use around here. Clarence still got points for preparedness, though. I jumped down and knelt to pick up the pieces that had fallen out. As I held some of the crystals in my hand, revelation hit me like a slap in the face.

Rock salt. Sodium chloride. The most common halide out there, with a cubic crystal system—just like boleite. It was so common, in fact, that it had never even crossed my mind as a candidate for the renegade ink experiments. I'd been focusing on the more exotic. I held up a piece of the salt, watching the way the light sparkled off it. My mind ran down which of its properties I could recall, conducting more comparisons to boleite. Could the answer really be right in front of me? Could my search have such an easy answer?

My heart began to pound as I dared a look at Zoe. She was engrossed in her task and appeared to be leafing through
As You Like It
. It was stupid and foolhardy to experiment here, but suddenly, I had to know. Retreating to the far side of the garage, I took up a position that gave me a good vantage of Zoe but kept her back to me. Getting dirt on my hands from the grungy floor was easy, and after one more nervous look in her direction, I summoned up earth's essence.

I'd done it so much by now, it was almost second nature. A glow filled my hand, and I quickly covered my other hand, which held a salt crystal, transferring the light. The salt gleamed briefly, then all light faded. Had it worked? Was this crystal infused? Everything had felt right, but I couldn't say for sure. Ms. Terwilliger could tell me tomorrow, but once again, my urgency got the best of me.

I returned to my stool, like nothing had happened, and texted my teacher:
Any chance you could swing by my dorm tonight to collect an assignment?
If she couldn't, I could find an excuse to leave and go to her, but that would elicit questions from Zoe. Fortunately, the response I received was:
Yes, I'll stop by after my date with MW.
It took me a minute to remember MW was Malachi Wolfe. Ugh.

Zoe stood up and stretched, then waved a copy of
A Midsummer Night's Dream
. “I think I'm set. I hope this works.”

“Me too,” I said, pocketing the crystal.

It was easy stepping out of my dorm room later, when Ms. Terwilliger got in touch to say she was in the lobby. I met her near the door and tried not to let my jaw drop when I saw her. Not only was she wearing makeup, she was also in an amazingly cute shift dress that didn't look like a Woodstock leftover.

“Wow . . . you look great, ma'am.”

She beamed as she smoothed the skirt. “You think so? I haven't worn this in years. Malachi said this shade of pink makes me look like a Botticelli angel.”

“He said what?”

“It's not important. Just pillow talk.” My jaw
did
drop then. “Now. What was it you needed?”

I swallowed and tried to remember. “Oh, I just wanted to give this back.”

I handed her a history book I'd grabbed at random and slipped the salt into her hand at the same time. All trace of lovesickness vanished. Her features grew sharp as she carefully rested the salt on the book. I clenched my hands so tightly my fingers hurt.

“Well, well, well,” she said, voice soft. “Look at that.”

“Yes?”

She lifted her eyes and smiled at me. “Congratulations, Sydney. You've made a flawless elemental charm.”

I
WAS BEING AN ASSHOLE AND DIDN'T CARE.

The thing was, no one else seemed to care either. Maybe they already understood what was at stake. Maybe they could just sense my urgency. Whatever it was, time was slipping away before my eyes, and I'd be damned if I was going to let anyone here screw this up.

“Get a doctor here,” I ordered. “Or a nurse. Hell, anyone who can safely draw blood.” I didn't need to specify a Moroi doctor. That was understood, and it was a wild card. Moroi sometimes clung together in isolated communities. Some tried to hide from Strigoi by mixing in heavily populated human areas. The key would be finding someone in the latter category with medical training—who was relatively close by.

Dimitri immediately walked out of the room, already dialing on his cell phone, and for once, I appreciated his do-gooder efficiency.

Nina and Olive exchanged startled looks. “What's going on?” Nina demanded. “Why are you taking her blood?”

“Because you'd better have a good reason,” snapped Olive, coming to life. “Or I'm going to walk right out of here.” She shuddered. “I've seen enough blood for a lifetime these last three months.”

I smiled, and a little of my tension faded. There was a fire in both sisters that I liked, and I was also amused at Olive's certainty that she could walk out. Aside from the fact that restoration took a huge physical toll, she'd never get past even one of the guardians.

“Your blood may save lives.” I reconsidered my word choice. A Strigoi, discovering he or she couldn't turn a victim, might simply kill. “Or, well, souls. No Strigoi can ever turn you again.”

Some of Olive's bravado wavered. “Really . . . you mean it? Because . . . I really would rather be dead than go through that again.” She squeezed her eyes shut, but it didn't stop the tears from leaking out. “It was awful . . .”

“I know,” I said, watching as Nina sat down and gathered Olive into a hug. I actually didn't know, of course. I had no clue what that hell must have been like. “But you're immune now. And we're trying to see if we can use what Nina did to you to help others.”

Nina lifted her head from her sister's chest. “Can I do something to help you now?”

“I think your part's over, though another spirit user's input can't hurt. When you're able to grasp it again,” I added.

Those unusual gray eyes met mine. “I grasped enough to see how much you were wielding earlier. I couldn't use that much.”

I brushed her comment off and ignored the curious look Rose gave me. “Not true. Saving her would've required at least that much.”

Dimitri returned a few moments later. “There's a nurse on her way. It'll probably be an hour.” For the first time in our acquaintance, he looked at me deferentially. “Is that enough time?”

“It has to be,” I said, tuning back in to the spirit radiating around Olive. We'd lose some of it, but I was pretty sure we'd still have a little left.

Meanwhile, I had to plan ahead. Sonya had always hoped that by studying the magic in the blood, we might be able to replicate that spell. I didn't know if that was possible. Looking at the way it shone around Olive now, I couldn't see anything definable about it that would've allowed me to cast it in the same way. Maybe I didn't have the skill. I wondered if perhaps it was as straightforward as Nina casting spirit in the same way she had to restore Olive. If that was the key, we had a few problems. One was that the spell required a silver stake through the heart. The other was that even doing it once wiped out a spirit user. We were hardly in a position to mass-produce some magical vaccine.

Speaking of vaccines . . . I wondered if it was as simple as that. Could we just inject her blood into someone else? Or tattoo it? The biology side of this wasn't my thing. That required someone like Sydney.

Thinking of her made me wish she were here. I checked my cell phone and found a message about poetry that made me smile. I tried to think of something witty to send back and ended up going with the naked truth:
I need you. In all senses of the word.

It was true. Crises like these were her specialty, not mine. I slipped the phone back into my pocket and tried to ignore the pang of her absence. If she were here, she'd stick to business. I could do no less.
I believe in you.

“I need some silver,” I said, not really directing my words to anyone in particular. “A case that's perfectly forged to hold a vial of blood would be ideal, but since I'm guessing none of you are metalsmiths, I'll take what I can get.”

Unfortunately, there was none in the house. Not even the girls had any jewelry on. Rose dispatched one of the other guardians as though she were a general on the battlefield. “Find a store that sells jewelry,” she told him. “And bring us some silver.”

“Large men's rings, if you can find them,” I added. “Five or six will probably work for a vial.”

“Just one vial?” asked Olive. That earlier fierceness returned. “You can take as much as you need from me. I'll do whatever it takes to stop this.”

“Easy there, champ,” I told her. “We're not going to drain you when you're still recovering from literally having your life changed. Besides, I don't even know yet if your blood will keep holding the magic once it's out of you.” Seeing everyone's blank looks, I realized I hadn't shared my idea with them. “Her body's brimming with spirit. I don't know if that's what creates the immunity, but it's the best lead we've had. But it's leaking out fast, which is why we need to hurry.”

Rose's errand boy scurried away. With nothing to do but wait, Rose leaned against Dimitri and sighed. Neil, surprisingly, began lauding Olive for her determination and bravery. I was too restless to simply stand around, so I wandered out to the porch, wishing for the first time in a while that I had a cigarette, both because it was a nervous habit and because it could take the edge off spirit. Instead, I contented myself with pacing and obsessively checking for messages from Sydney.

“Expecting a call?” Nina appeared in the doorway, wrapped in the blanket again.

I put the phone away. “Just hoping I might hear from someone.”

“Girlfriend?”

“A friend who's a girl,” I said smugly. “I have a few ‘friends' like that.”

She leaned against the porch's wall, the inside lights illuminating her in the night's darkness. “So I've heard. I didn't realize who you were at first.”

“Should you have?”

She shrugged. “You and your family are kind of well known.”

I didn't ask her to elaborate. She could've been talking about Aunt Tatiana—or my mom, who was locked away in prison somewhere. No one would tell me where, and when I had tried to dream visit, she'd ordered me away with such vehemence that I had uncharacteristically obeyed. I wasn't sure if she was freaked out about spirit dreams or just embarrassed at me seeing her in that state. I held on to the hope that I'd get a better reception if I showed up in person, but that didn't seem to be a possibility anytime soon. With all the other complications in my life, I kept her on the far edges of my mind and contented myself with writing letters to her that were never sent. Not even Sydney knew that.

“Well,” I said, putting on the arrogant role everyone expected of me, “I'm not surprised about that. My charm and good looks are legendary—especially with women.”

“I'm sure,” Nina said with a rueful smile. “But you aren't what I expected. Thank you . . . for helping Olive.”

“Thank yourself for that. I'm not doing anything.”

“You're helping her get over this—mentally. I mean, we haven't had a chance to talk much, but I can tell. I know her and realize how traumatic this was for her.”

I shook my head. “I don't know her, and even I can see how traumatic it was. That, and I know enough people who've gone through it.”

Nina was silent for a long time. “Do they ever get over it?” she asked quietly.

I thought about the haunted look I still sometimes saw in Dimitri's and Sonya's eyes. “No. But they learn to go on with their lives. Olive will too.”

“Do you know how it happened?” Nina wrapped the blanket around her more tightly as a cool breeze ruffled her curly hair. “She was protecting our dad. He never even considered not letting us grow up together, you know. He and my mom split up, and then he married Olive's mom. She's a dhampir, obviously. Or was. She passed away a few years ago.”

“Brave guy,” I said. Moroi men usually kept their dhampir mistresses in the shadows.

“Amazing guy. But not royal. When Olive was in school, she found out there'd never be any way she could protect him when she was a guardian. They told her she'd have to go wherever she was assigned when she graduated—which would be some royal.” Nina chuckled at the memory. “She didn't take that quietly.”

I thought back to Olive's face, determined even in her weakened state. “I can see that.”

“So she left the school and made herself Dad's unofficial guardian. He wasn't happy about that—dropping out of school. But he respected the reasons and let her do it, so long as she took human GED classes. Everything was great, until . . .” Her words choked off.

“Strigoi?” I guessed.

“He was attacked on a business trip. She threw herself in their path, so Dad could get away. He did. She didn't. I thought she was dead for a long time, and when I found out she wasn't, I read everything I could about Dimitri Belikov and Sonya Karp. I got my friend James to help me . . . and here we are.”

“It was very brave,” I said. It was also incredibly dangerous, but who was I to fault her? I knew without a doubt I'd do something equally risky to save someone I loved. Hell, I'd brought Jill back from the dead.

The silver-seeking guardian arrived later, just before the nurse. No one bothered telling the nurse what was going on, mostly because we were all too keyed up. She glanced around nervously as she entered Olive's bedroom and silently set to work. For all the fuss, it was pretty simple. Less than a minute to draw the blood, and it was all done. She put a stopper on the vial and held it out uncertainly. I took it from her and peered at it intently. There it was, spirit still humming inside—but also still gradually fading.

I swore and quickly took hold of the silver rings. Our courier had done a good job. The rings were thick and plain and large enough to go around the vial. But I'd never charmed silver and had only a vague understanding of it, based on Lissa's explanations. Feeling everyone's eyes on me only made things worse. The metal was cool against my skin, and the rush of spirit filled me as I tried to send it into the ring. My plan was to create a type of compulsion that would trap the spirit within the blood. It would require making the two variants of magic butt heads, something I wasn't even sure was possible. I glanced up at the nurse.

“You aren't an earth user, are you?”

“No,” she said. “Air.”

Pretty much the opposite of what I needed. Spirit users exceled at compulsion more than other kinds of Moroi, but earth users had an affinity to metals and other things that dwelt in the ground. Silver readily accepted magic, but I wouldn't have minded an edge and wished I'd thought to have them rustle up an earth user. Too late now.

“Here.” Nina walked up beside me and rested her hand over the ring in my palm. I felt her magic rise—only a trickle compared with mine—and help guide my spell into the ring. My hold faltered as I stared at her in surprise.

“You've made charms before.”

“A few.”

Once I saw how she did it, I was able to successfully meld spirit into the silver. I did it four more times with the other rings, and although I kept repeating to myself how Sydney believed in me, I also had a brief reminder of that concern in her eyes, her warnings about how continuing to use spirit would harm my mind. And I wasn't just using spirit today. I was drowning in it. Between using it to “peer” into Olive's blood and now this charm making, I felt as though
I
were made of spirit. It was overwhelming, but what I could do? Everyone was counting on me, and by the time I finished, I could barely stand. I rested my hand on the back of a chair to steady myself and handed the rings to Dimitri. “Put them around the vial.”

The rings were a little larger around, and so he ended up setting the vial in a small box stuffed with cotton so that the rings wouldn't slip off. Palpable silence filled the room, and he handed the box back to me. I used the last of my strength to study the spirit in the blood. The magic was still in there, and I was pretty sure it wasn't trickling out. I glanced at Nina for confirmation, but she shook her head.

“I can't see what you see.”

“Then this is as good as it gets.” I gave the box back to Dimitri. “Get it back to Court for Sonya as soon as possible. She's your best bet for figuring it out now. I think I've got it stabilized, but I don't know for how long.” As the others scurried to make travel plans, I felt the room sway. I needed to get out of here but couldn't stand to show weakness in front of these people who'd placed so many hopes on me. I finally sought help from the person least likely to judge me and touched Nina's arm. “Can we talk in private about, uh, spirit stuff?”