Page 42 of Her Shadow so Dark and Lovely
I remember Sila’s quiet fury at the curse mark on my skin. At the claim that someone or something had made upon me. That someone might have dared to claim what was hers.
I remember her gentle touch when she had found me in the scriptorium and the Lightkeepers lay dead around us. How ruthlessly she had taken their lives, and how soft those same hands had been combing through my hair.
I remember her journal and the way I had been a mark and become Lorel. Her obsessive notes and far-reaching research as she tried to save me. As she tried to keep me.
I remember her voice as she told me that finally, in her long life, there was someone that she did not wish to see dead.
All of them are impossible things. Things that should never happen.
Librarians did not fall in love with scribes. Scribes did not imagine themselves in love with their tormentors and guardians.
Ancient fae creatures like Sila should have no interest in simple fleeting creatures like me. It should be of no consequence if I am dead or alive.
Instead, it iseverything. I had pushed her away, and she had walked to her death to try and save me from the Heart.
I had not wanted to see Sila go to her death again. I had not wanted to lose her in the labyrinth. Because I do not want to just be a scribe to her. I want to let her obsession devour me. I want to let her have me, however she wishes to have me. I want to be hers.
We have come so far and I will not lose her now.
Heart,I call out and the Heart’s attention again turns to me. I can’t feel any strong emotion from it now, just indifference. As if Sila is little more than an unruly child.
Is there another way to break the silencing?
If an existential being could look side long at something, the Heart would be doing so.
Yes.
And if I agree to break it, and speak what you wish me to speak, will you let me go?
There is a drawn-out contemplative silence from the Heart, as if it has all the time in the world. It probably does. The Heart’s attention shifts back to Sila.
Librarian.
The shadows stir and shift furiously.
“If you want to keep her, then I will stay with her,” says Sila. “I will stay until you see fit to release her back to me.”
You cannot stay here. You would lose yourself.
“I do not care,” Sila says, raising her voice. “Is throwing myself on your altar not proof enough that I would give up my life for hers?”
In my glass coffin, I choke back the sound of grief that tries to escape me. I don’t know what I have done to deserve Sila. I had never wanted attention. I had never wanted this. Yet Sila has seen me, anyway. Seen me and decided there is something worth seeing. There is no way I am going to give her up.
The Heart sits silently.
You would do that for her?
“Without hesitation. As surely as I have devoted myself to you and to my queen,” Sila says.
Would you put her above all others? Even your queen?
“I already have, have I not? Can you not feel that you are my only tether now? What more do I have to do to prove myself?” Sila’s hand comes down on the glass, leaving a dark smudge. The shadows flicker like flame.
I hold my breath, waiting for the Heart’s verdict.
Be still. I must consider.
I feel the Heart’s presence turn back to me.
