Page 111 of The Seven Miracles of Beatrix Holland
Reno shook her head and looked out into the darkness on the other side of the gate. “I don’t think it’s going to stop.”
Fear clacked down the knobs of Beatrice’s spine. “Then we’ll do more magic. Astrid will figure something else out.”
Reno smiled. “Whoareyou?”
“No one is more surprised than I am, believe me.”
“Damn, woman.” The word was a velvet endearment. “Who else are you?”
“Apparently someone who’s stronger with her family around her.” Beatrice only realized it was true as she said the words.
“So where did your strength come from before?”
That was easy. “From me. Myself. My understanding. From learning. Studying.”
“You like knowing everything.”
“Merely saying yes would be one of the greatest understatements of my life. But yes. I do.”
“Huh.” Reno kicked out her boots in front of her, crossing her legs at the ankles. “I don’t think I know anything at all.”
She seemed so accepting about it, which made no sense. “So… how can you stop something if you don’t know the truth about it? If you don’t know how it works and why?” Beatrice wasn’t sure if she meant the Velamens or death itself.
“I’m not sure we can stop anything. Not sure we have that kind of control.”
Heat rose in Beatrice’s lungs. “But you cantry. You canlearn.”
Reno put her arms over the back of the iron bench. “What do you want to learn?”
If Beatrice leaned back just a touch, she’d feel Reno’s arm behind her. “Everything. Especially now.”
“Like?”
“If…” Oh, god, was she ready to soundthisstupid to Reno? Maybe. “If there’s… more… out there.” She stopped herself and recalibrated. “Okay. Magic is real.”
Reno smiled.
She went on, “I never knew that before. Nothing I’d ever learned had been able to prove it to me. But now—if the dead can still talk to us, then that means they don’t just disappear. Doesn’t that mean that maybe there’s a reason for things, and that there’s an order to the universe that I never understood before? I mean, I know this is super existential, but…”
“It’s called an existential crisis for a reason.”
Fair enough. “What do you think happens when we die?”
The look on Reno’s face was so kind, it made Beatrice want tocry. “I have no idea what happens, but I know we keep existing, and that it’s good.”
“So, heaven?”
She shrugged. “I feel happiness move through me sometimes, but it’s not angels-singing-in-a-choir type of shit. Honestly, when that kind of joy rolls through, it feels like it’s on its way somewhere, stoked to be doing something awesome. The way you feel when you’re on your way to the beach maybe. It doesn’t last long, because I think the ones passing through are busy. If that makes sense.”
It did not, not even a little. “What about the other emotions you get? The bad ones?”
Reno touched the top of theSon her chest. “Those… are heavier. They feel stuck. The lighter ones move through and are gone. I don’t know where they go. The darker ones are muckier. Kind of the difference between walking through a stream and walking through a mud puddle. The stream is clear and moving fast, and you walk out clean. The mud, though. It sits. And sticks.”
Beatrice rocked forward impatiently. “So does that mean there’s someone in charge out there? Because I’ve never believed in God, some dude with a white beard who’s pulling the strings and making us dance. I refuse to believe in that now, unless someone canprovehim to me, which I hope they don’t. But—oh, fuck. Should I believe in him? I don’t know what I’m saying.” She waved her hands in the air ineffectively before letting them fall back into her lap. “What do you think? You think there’s someone driving the bus?” This time, she did lean back, Reno’s forearm solid and warm against her upper back.
“Sal.”
“Excuse me?”
