Page 71 of As Many Souls as Stars
Esther looked down at the knife, at the light dripping down her palms. Downstairs in the ballroom, people were still shrieking; there was a shatter as something toppled over, and then a dim, golden glow filtered through a downstairs window, as someone finally managed to light a candle. Tears overspilled Esther’s cheeks, made beads upon her chin. Esther’s anger had always been beautiful, but Miriam realised that her grief was even lovelier.
‘Nothing,’ she said, hollowly. ‘It has given me nothing.’
Miriam offered her a hand. ‘Let me take you away from here. I can keep you safe.’
‘For the few months I have remaining, you mean? Before youeatmysoul? No.’ Esther dropped the oyster knife, and it clattered to the marble. ‘I’d rather die than spend another moment with you.’
‘What are you implying?’
‘Twenty-three years, that was our deal. I have not lived them yet.’
Miriam felt her corporeality slip, for just a moment. Her eyes forgot their shape and melted into darkness, dripping down her cheeks and pooling in the hollows of her collarbones. The ends of her fingers blurred, trailing amorphous shadows like smoke. Esther didn’t evenflinch to see the transformation. There was no fear in her eyes, only disdain.
Esther said, ‘Another life. That is what would happen, isn’t it? If I died here and now, I would be reborn again.’
‘Youcannot,’ Miriam snarled. ‘We made a deal.’
‘We made a deal that was impossible from the start. That is your fault, Miriam: your design. And perhaps I can’t break a curse that doesn’t exist, but perhaps I can find a way to escape our pact. I have a stronger soul now than I did as Cybil. My third self will be stronger still.’
Miriam felt the shadows beneath her trembling, trying to pull away from the force of her fury—she pulled them back to her with a clawed hand. ‘You have seen the best of me, darling,’ Miriam said. ‘Don’t make me show you the worst. If you love me—’
‘I love you,’ she said, ‘and I hate you, more than I have ever hated anyone. I see it now: you must love someone to truly hate them. They must give you something before they can take it away.’
Miriam shrieked in fury. ‘A new life, that was the deal. I have given you that, and my heart besides—have I not?’
‘You have,’ Esther agreed. ‘But I do not want your heart, Miriam. Not anymore.’
Trembling, Esther turned towards the railing of the balcony, and she took a step forward.
‘My mother died this way, once,’ she said. ‘I won’t belong to you, in this life or the next. And when I die, I shall die smiling—knowing I denied you the chance to kill me.’
And in that moment, brief and burning, Miriam was almost human. She felt, concurrently, all of the vast palette of emotions she had experienced in the past few weeks: anger and desire and sorrow and regret, lust and despair, joy and grief. She could try to take Esther now, keep her alive, bind her with shadows, force her to live the rest of the year a captive—but what guarantee did Miriam have that she was capable of it? Of the two of them, Miriam was no longer certain who was the more powerful. Thisthingshe had created, this radiant creature, with twin souls, determined to die; whatever Esther was now, she was no longer the woman Miriam loved. And all Miriamwanted at this moment was for that woman to return. She could not think of anything else. She was blinded by fury.
Miriam reached down. She picked up the oyster knife.
‘I told you,’ she said. ‘If you must die, darling, it will be onmyterms, not yours.’
She didn’t give Esther time to reply. Miriam lunged forward and drew the blade across Esther’s throat in an unflinching arc, arm sweeping as a conductor’s towards the sky. Esther didn’t cry out in pain—she couldn’t—and she didn’t try to step away; didn’t lift her arms to try to block the blow; didn’t fall to her knees in surrender. She blinked at Miriam with her wide, autumn-leaf eyes, uncomprehending of her own blood as it spurted between them. And then, slowly, she smiled.
For a moment, time didn’t pass. The world was silent, and Esther was dying, and Miriam was glad, at least, that she was the one who had killed her; but this was not what she had wanted. Esther had chosen this ending, not her. Miriam had surrendered to her, surrendered to her own fury. Now Esther’s soul was denied to her once more.
Esther fell into her, gurgling and gasping. The light dancing on her skin faded. Miriam gathered her in an embrace, holding her as she choked. She felt something wet on her cheek, and she raised a hand to wipe it away, presuming it was more of Esther’s blood; it was a tear. She stared at it in fascination. She’d never cried before.
Weakly, hands clawed at her back. Miriam pressed a kiss to Esther’s hair. ‘Enjoy it,’ she whispered. ‘This is the last victory I will ever give you.’
Esther moaned in pain. The light of her soul flickered as it tried to fade, but the magic of the deal kept it bound. Soon it would tear free, and Miriam would have to wait until another First Daughter came.
‘I love you,’ Miriam said.
Esther didn’t reply. She gasped, twitched, and was still.
Miriam lowered her body gently to the ground, tucking a lock of blood-encrusted hair behind Esther’s ear. She pressed her lips against her throat, but there was no pulse, no response, no living person on the terrace at all: only Miriam Richter, a silent shadow, Esther’s blood still warm on her cheek.
Intermission
TRIPOLITANIA
He said, ‘You’ve been following me for a decade now. I don’t know what you are, orwhoyou are, but it’s starting to feel jolly rude you haven’t introduced yourself.’
