Chapter 35 #2
Time becomes unfathomable while we lay together, watching the aurora dance to a silent beat, kissing every moon on its journey across the sky.
And I become quietly aware of Líri’s heart thumping like a drum.
A sound that calls to me, louder with each passing thud.
With each tear that slips down my cheek, kissed by a Moonplume who seems just as lost and lonely as I’ve been for the past twenty-three phases.
It’s not until the aurora’s directly overhead that I realize her heartbeat’s chasing mine. A near-instant echo.
I stop singing, tip my head to the side. Líri lowers hers, allowing me a perfect view of her big, gloomy eyes.
A quiet understanding passes between us as her cold embrace seeps through my skin, past my ribs, and binds my heart. A gentle pressure that crumbles my face. Because deep down, I know …
I’ve felt this before.
My Other recedes, nuzzling so far within me I lose all sense of her presence. Something that feels too much like a silent blessing.
A buried part of me wants to scream. Thrash. Break. But I drown those feelings and hold Líri’s speckled stare, falling into those bottomless orbs like a star tossed across the sky. A cold plunge that’s achingly familiar.
Sensing the watchful presence of every prick of light sprinkled around me, one lures me forward. A distant silver speck that stands out from all the rest.
I find myself reaching for it. Like standing atop a mountain, stretching my hand toward the sky. Pretending I can pluck that silver speck loose and cradle it close to my chest, even though it’s far beyond my reach.
Something sharp lodges between my ribs, rendering me breathless.
Voiceless.
In more agony than I’ve ever felt.
Pearly wings sweep around me from behind and bandage me in a tight embrace. Quiet acknowledgment of the hurt threatening to bleed me from within. But it doesn’t fix me.
It simply notices.
Again, that pressure comes. A frosty claw holding my heart, gently squeezing.
This time, there is no resistance.
The organ softens, then splits like the shell of a serpent egg. A cool ache seeps through as my heart skips a beat, then pumps in unison with Líri’s sturdy pulse.
She nuzzles into my soul, climbing amongst the shattered remnants of that hollow egg wedged beneath my ribs, pulling shards upon herself, seeking quiet comfort beside a melancholy stone.
Because although this feels like the start of something too beautiful to comprehend, accepting this bond is silent confirmation that another first came to pass.
That something emptied from me to make the space for Líri to fill.
And that—
I don’t want to think about that. Nor do I want to feel this piercing pain in my chest that just
won’t
abate.
I sink within myself faster than I ever have. Pause when I notice the silver thread of hair snarled around my hand and wrist.
Is this the problem? This damn hair-thing I’ve been tangled with since Bothaim?
Ripping it free with savage gusto, I charge toward the lake, where I crack a hole with my fist and stuff the tendril down. Heaving breath, I wait to feel … better.
The feeling doesn’t ease. Not even a little.
I look over my shoulder—
There’s something else here.
Snarling, I root through the dark rocks scattered across my shore, tossing them about, slicing my hands on all the sharp edges.
Determined to hunt the culprit down.
I roll a hefty stone, whipping my hand up against a flood of light that threatens to blind me. Slowly, I lower it, eyes popping wide when I see a luminous silver splinter wedged in the shore—No.
In me.
How did I not notice this before?
I grip it, heart hitching at how cold it is. Cold like—
NO.
I push that thought away and tug. But no matter how hard I yank, the splinter doesn’t budge.
“Fuck!”
Guess I can either leave it here, slowly grow around it until the pain eases … or slice it out. Discard it.
Easy answer.
I snatch a stone shard and begin hacking the surrounding matter, which is softer than I’d anticipated. Conveniently so. I slice … slice … slice, aware of myself whittling down, becoming harder.
Sharper.
My lips pull back, teeth bared, feeling each cut like a slice to my soul. But rather than mourn the loss of the tender stuff I’m slitting free, I relish it.
Who needs that shit anyway?
The lump comes loose.
Though that ache is still there, it’s more an open wound. Less like a weight pinning me down.
Wounds I can weather. After all, wounds are the hands that shaped me.
A savage smile peels across my face as I lift the lump—surprisingly heavy for its size—and charge toward my lake.
Refusing to look in the direction of the swishing silver light now shafting up from beneath the ice, I drop the lump in my pre-punched hole.
Plop.
It plummets into the darkness, shrinking until it’s as small as the argent speckle in Líri’s eyes.
For a moment, my Other doesn’t move. Stays just beneath the surface, as though she’s watching me through the murk. Probably waiting for something.
No idea what. Don’t particularly care.
She dives, dashing after the silver speck with a rhythmic thump like beating wings.
Something that might’ve affected me before I sliced at myself, but nothing soft is left.
Only feral determination to protect the dragon tucked beneath my ribs.
To keep her safe so she never becomes an empty ache in my chest.
I turn and climb within myself, ripe with a predatory strength I use to coil around Líri’s pulsing presence in the same way she’s bound around my body.
Tightly.