Page 80 of The Dazzling Heights
Which was how she’d ended up here, at the cemetery, wearing her heaviest coat and cowboy boots—the brown ones with white detail that Eris had always begged to borrow. It seemed somehow fitting. She passed the main front gates, nodding at the security cam installed there, and turned left toward where Eris was buried, in the middle of the Radsons’ family plot. Despite everything that had happened with Eris’s father in life, he’d ended up claiming her in death, after all.
Avery hadn’t been back since Eris’s interment, after the funeral service and the seemingly endless visitation—which they’d held in an impersonal rented event space, since Eris’s mom was still living downTower, and Eris’s dad at the Nuage. By that point, the only people left had been Eris’s parents and grandmother, and the Fullers … and Leda. Avery remembered standing in the blistering wind, watching the priest lower the tiny urn containing Eris’s ashes into the ground, thinking that this couldn’t be all that remained of her expansive, vibrant friend.
She picked her way down the gravel path until she found Eris’s headstone. It was smooth, with nothing inscribed on it but her name: until you tapped the top, and a hologram materialized before you, of Eris smiling and waving. Avery thought it was a bit absurd, but then, Caroline Dodd-Radson had always insisted on the newest and trendiest in all things. Even funeral accessories.
Tears pricked at Avery’s eyes as she stood there, wishing more than anything that she could talk to her friend.
So talk,she thought.There was no one around to hear, and what did it matter anyway? She shook out her scarf, spread it over the cut grass, then sat down and cleared her throat. She felt a little foolish.
“Eris. It’s me, Avery.” She imagined her friend sitting there, her flecked amber eyes wide with amusement. “I brought you a few things,” she went on clumsily, pulling the items from her bag one by one. “A gold sequin, from that dress you let me borrow for the holiday party one year.” She set it carefully by the headstone, letting it catch the light of the sun in a way Eris would love. “Your favorite perfume.” She spritzed the jasmine scent Eris always used to wear. “Your favorite raspberry bonbons from Seraphina’s,” she added, unwrapping one of the smooth dark chocolates and then holding it uncertainly, wondering why she’d even brought it. She hesitated before popping it into her mouth. Eris would want Avery to enjoy it here, with her.
She started to lean back, but felt a lump in her bag.
“Oh, and the candle!” Avery fumbled in her bag for a beauty wand, flicked the setting toHEAT, and held it determinedly to the stumpy remain of the IntoxiCandle she’d stolen from Cord’s. It took a while, but eventually a flame guttered to life on the tiny gold wick, dancing wildly in the wind.
Avery propped herself on her elbows and stared at the candle through lowered lids, remembering what Cord had said, that Eris had been the one to buy the IntoxiCandle in the first place. She wasn’t surprised at all. Eris had a magpie-like obsession with anything bright or sparkling, not to mention anything just slightly forbidden—and the fire-hazard IntoxiCandle was a perfect example of both. Even now its movement was quick and capricious, just like Eris.
Little pockets of serotonin drifted upward as the candle melted down. Avery felt her awareness melting slowly away.
And suddenly she saw Eris, sitting there on her own headstone as easy as you please. She was wearing a fluffy pink dress—like something a little girl would wear, playing dress-up—and her bright, fresh face was devoid of makeup. “Avery?” she asked, swinging her bare feet. Her toes were painted a glittering silver.
Avery wanted to hug her friend, but somehow she knew she wasn’t permitted to touch her. “Eris! I miss you so much,” she said fervently. “Everything is really falling apart without you.”
“I know, I’m the best. What else is new?” Eris said airily, with one of those smiles that seemed to dance about her expressive features. Her perfectly arched brows lowered as she caught sight of the flame. “You brought the IntoxiCandle? I love that thing!”
Avery wordlessly held it out, and Eris reached for it, their hands almost brushing as she did. She inhaled deeply, her eyes closing in rapture. “You got this from Cord, didn’t you?”
“He said I needed it more than he did.” Avery looked down, overwhelmed by a sudden flash of guilt at the thought of that night. It had been a mistake, going over to Cord’s. Maybe if she hadn’t made such a point of obviously flirting with him, Atlas would never have gone home with Calliope—wouldn’t have questioned everything about their relationship—and they never would be in the torturous mess they were in now.
“So what’s going on, then?” Eris asked. “Is it Leda?”
“Things with Leda are actually getting better,” Avery said, faltering. “Even though she did, I mean—”
“It’s okay. We both know she didn’t mean to push me,” Eris said gently. Her hair fell loose over her shoulders, red and gold as liquid fire in the slanting afternoon sun.
“She didn’t mean to,” Avery repeated. “And she feels terrible about it,” she added, knowing that it wasn’t useful, that it was nowhere near enough.
Eris winced, a pained expression on her face. “There are a lot of things I should have done differently that night. It’s not Leda’s fault. But enough about that,” she said briskly. “What’s bothering you, Avery?”
“Atlas, actually,” Avery confessed. Her tone was full of meaning, and a look of comprehension crossed her dead friend’s face.
“Wait. You and Atlas? Really?”
Avery nodded, and Eris let out a low whistle.
“I thought my life was messy,” she finally said, with a mix of sympathy and respect. “But it turns out yours is even more of a disaster.”
“That’s not particularly helpful,” Avery pointed out, with a smile. Eris was the same as always.
“Okay, so it’s a little bit complicated …”
“Alotbit complicated,” Avery corrected, and Eris smiled at the silliness of the phrase.
“Who cares? Life is always complicated. Don’t let other people get in the way of you and Atlas, if it’s what you really want. I learned that one the hard way,” Eris added, her voice small.
“Oh, Eris.” Avery felt a million things at once, guilt and loss and a fluttering regret for what might have been. “I’m so sorry. I just—”
“I mean, you’re notactuallyrelated,” Eris went on, with the stubbornness that used to get her into so much trouble. “Screw all the haters, and go be with Atlas, and let that be the end of it.”
