Page 46 of Magpie
“I mean it, Alister,” I say, my voice louder this time, holding myself tighter to keep from shaking. “I’m done. I can’t keep making you keys. I can’t keep trapping people here. I can’t keep feeding you, because you’ll never be full.”
He lets out a loud, angry laugh, turning to me, pinning me with his hateful gaze. Time and age haven’t touched his face, perfectly preserving the features of the boy who owns my heartentirely. I wonder how I was able to ignore it withering in his care.
He storms toward me, grabbing me by my arms. I cry out as he drags me off the bed and tosses me to the ground. “That’s enough, Irina,” he bellows. “I’m tired of having these same desperate conversations with you. We made our choice to start this new life—there is no turning back from it. Not anymore. I’m done listening to your self-pity. It is beneath you. Now get ready. The ritual will begin soon.”
I stand, stumbling a little, my ankle turned in the fall. He notices me wince, and I see a momentary flash of shame in his eyes, but then it is gone. My heart breaks a little more, knowing those glimmers of goodness, those flashes of the boy I love, are all I will ever get from him again. My eyes grow wet, and I feel the first tear spilling over, no matter how I try to hold it back.
He lets out an exasperated sigh, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me into him. He sets his head on my shoulder, nuzzling my neck. Heat sparks at his touch. I close my eyes, just for a moment, to soak in this last embrace.
A sob breaks out in my throat as I say, “This is killing me, Alister.”
All at once the pain consumes me. The pain of never being enough, the pain of pulling lifeforce from an unsuspecting victim, the pain of watching my best friend and the love of my life turn into a stranger. A monster. The pain of knowing I caused it all, and that I am not strong enough to end it.
“I cannot do this without you, my dove,” he whispers in my ear, his voice once again the sweet, soft voice of that boy from my past. I know better. That boy no longer exists, and hasn’t for a long, long time.
Steeling my spine, I open my eyes and whisper, “What if I give you another bird?”
There. I said them—the words that will damn me eternally, but the words that will let meget out.
He stiffens, pulling his arms from me as I turn to meet his gaze. “The death key,” he says, his eyes wide with hunger.
I swallow against the lump forming in my throat. The death key is the only thing I have ever refused Alister. I could not, would not, give him control over that power. At least, that’s what I told myself. But the years inside his cold embrace have worn me down, whittling me to nothing. I am empty, a hollow doll with nothing left to give, nothing left to try to make him believe I am enough.
Because I never have been, not for him.
“Someone is here, calling out to it. She’s been crying out for it for some time now, pulling me to her,” I say, answering at last his question about why I chose this town, this house.
At first, I made the keys that Alister described to me. Melding and blending them to his exact specifications. As the years wore on, and as my connection to the keys and the power to create them grew, I began to form a greater understanding of them. I began to feel the souls calling to me from across the void, could sense the truly powerful ones that would fall only too easily into Alister’s palm. I never told Alister that she was near, that her spirit was begging to be numb, but still, I moved the House closer.
She was perfect, a soul begging to leave this life behind. The call of her was like a scream in the darkness. I was surprised Alister couldn’t feel it. After sensing her for so long, I knew Alister would easily be able to take her, convince her to give herself up for this life. I found myself creating the key one night in the darkness of our empty room. I told myself I wouldn’t use it; I was just creating it to get her voice out of my mind. I told myself all those things, but deep down I knew…
I knew I would do anything to be free. I wouldn’t let myself think about the cost of that freedom, and how she would be the one to ultimately pay it.
“You would give her to me?” Alister asks, his grip on me growing tight, his gaze heated. What I wouldn’t give for the barest hint of that heat to touch me.
“Only if you let me go,” I say, before I can back down. I worry my bottom lip, my eyes darting between his. He holds my gaze, sadness creeping into his eyes, flashing me the face of the boy he once was. The boy who cared. It passes all too quickly, replaced with a greedy curiosity.
Pulling out of his arms for what I know will be the last time, I turn and walk away. I open a small chest on my bedside table, pausing, my hand hovering over the contents. The small voice of my former self whispers that there is still time to turn back. That I don’t have to cross this line in the sand.
I don’t hesitate for a moment longer. I pick up the iron key with the black-and-white bird adorning the top. Turning, I find him standing directly behind me, having silently followed. His eyes are ravenous, and he moves to snatch the key from my hand, but I hold it back from him, earning a sneer of annoyance. It is the exact sight I need to fuel my resolve.
“I am not giving you this key freely, and there is only one thing that can pay the price. One key for another, Alister. Me or her. Make your decision.” I stand firm, refusing to give an inch as he holds my defiant gaze.
“Irina…” he says at last, his voice breaking, and my withered heart breaks right alongside it. I see the internal fight crossing over his face, flicking his eyes from mine to the key in my hand. Time stops around us, the room drifting away. The only things in this world that exist are us, and the choice he has yet to make.
With achingly slow movements, Alister begins to unbutton his shirt, one ivory button at a time. He is moving slowly,but deliberately, and I wonder if it’s because he is delaying the inevitable. Delaying me leaving him for the final time. He pulls off one of his gloves before tugging his shirt to the side, revealing his chest and pressing the tips of his fingers above his heart.
I let out a sob, and a pain I didn’t realize he could feel anymore flashes across his face. Yet he does not stop. He plunges his fingers into his chest and pulls out my key. I remember the day I gave it to him, the elation I felt at finally being able to pay him back for the life he gave me. I never thought I would ache for the severing of our connection.
He holds my key out to me, and in turn I hold the death key toward him. We stand like that for one beat. Two. Neither of us quite ready to part. I look at him after centuries together, and I find I’m staring at a stranger.
With shallow breaths, and an empty pit where my heart should be, I reach forward and take my key. I curl my fingers around the cool iron as he opens his mouth and whispers, “My dove—”
“She is already inside,” I say, cutting him off before he can break my desiccated heart any further.
Without another word, he plucks the key from my outstretched hand and turns from me, grabbing his top hat and storming from our room.
His room, now.
