Page 44 of As Many Souls as Stars
‘Jesus Christ,’ Esther said.
Miriam dropped her hand. ‘I am like you. Our power is the same.’
‘You knew what I was when you came to speak with me.’
‘Yes. I wanted to warn you.’
‘Warn me of what?’
‘He knows,’ Richter said. ‘Thomas. He knows of your curse, your power. He blames you for his every misfortune, and he intends to enact revenge.’
‘He blames me,’ Esther echoed, feeling the blood drain from her face.
‘Yes.’
‘How doyouknow about that? About Thomas?’
‘I… I cannot tell you.’
Esther spluttered. ‘Then why in God’s name should I believe you?’
Richter reached over the table and cupped Esther’s cheek. Esther froze, a deer before the rifle, and their eyes met. The other woman wore a strange expression: something between joy and concern. Although her skin was cold, her touch had a curious warmth, and Esther could feel it radiating across her chin and down her neck.
‘Because,’ said Miriam, ‘no one else shall ever care about you as much as I do, darling. You could live a thousand years, a thousand lives, and no one will. I promise you that.’
Esther wanted to say something to deny her, but she couldn’t. This woman was a stranger still, appearing as suddenly and as violently as the storm itself. She was asking Esther to cast aside all of Thomas’s kindness, refuse herself the one refuge fate had offered her; and she couldn’t. Of course she couldn’t.
So why did she want to?
Esther felt her gaze drift to Richter’s lips.She is handsome, she thought,so handsome for a woman, so striking in aspect, so strong of feature. She found herself imagining what it would be like to touch the harsh line of the other woman’s jaw, to lean forward and taste those lips herself. And then, quite unbidden, came a succession of images: a darkened room, a bed—her bed—sheets rumpled, twin bodies, a sharp-nailed hand pressing hollows into her thighs, fingers wound into red hair, a tongue tracing the jut of her hip. Esther shuddered with the intensity of them, with the sudden ache she felt.
Richter’s eyes darkened. Another clap of thunder: with it howled the wind, streaming against Esther with such fury, it was an animal leaping at her, clawing at her face. Her hair flew back, pins tearing away in pricks of fleeting pain. Esther scrambled after them, tried to catch them in midair, but they were lost. She looked back to Richter, flushed, her hair falling in a wild tangle across her shoulders.
Richter did not seem to mind her sudden disarray. If anything, the desire in her eyes reflected Esther’s own.
‘I know what you are thinking of, my dear,’ she said. ‘I would be amenable, if you are.’
‘I—I wasn’t…’ Esther groaned. It hardly even felt worth denying. ‘Well—that’s not—if you know about the curse, then you shouldn’t wish to associate with me, regardless.’
‘I needn’t worry aboutthat, my dear. I’m much too powerful for such a thing to affect me.’
Esther paused. ‘What? Is—is that really true?’
‘Naturally,’ Richter replied, tone placid.
Esther swallowed. The thought that there might be someone she could spend time with, without fear or guilt—she couldn’t even dare to consider it. If it proved untrue, it would crush her.
But hadn’t this woman held lightning in her palm? Hadn’t she soothed the terrors of Esther’s visions, and put her own visions in their place? That sort of power was beyond anything Esther had accomplished. It was the sort of power she’d never imagined. The sort that could break a curse.
‘I still believe you may be a lunatic,’ Esther said. ‘And I don’t believe you about Thomas.’
Richter’s mouth curled downward in displeasure. ‘I see.’
‘But… if you are willing to teach me how to use my magic, as you can use yours? If you can help me break my curse? Then I might give your warning more consideration.’
Esther had expected immediate agreement—Richterwantedher, after all; that had been made clear enough—but Richter hummed in thought, leaning back in her chair. There was a new distance to her gaze, as if she were remembering something from very long ago; when they’d met, Esther had been certain they were the same age, but now there seemed something older about her, something almost weary.
I am like you.
