All the Stars and Teeth (All the Stars and Teeth Duology) (27 page)

“The gods don’t give us these creatures so we can torture them!” My breaths are sharp and quick, and I’m unable to stop my trembling. “What were you thinking?” I draw a step back toward the door, fear and rage warring in my chest.

Cato grins. It’s one of the most gleeful expressions I’ve ever seen, and it looks wrong on his face. Until now, I hadn’t noticed
how much life has been drained from him; his skin is pale and dull, and his body has withered, making his face gaunt and sharp. Just how many nights has he been sneaking off to this room, locking himself away in the dark?

“It’s magic,” Cato says, almost giddy. I draw a few more steps toward the door. The poor rabbit is still shaking within its cage.

“What magic?” Though every instinct wills me to run, the love for this man I’ve known since I was a child locks me in place.

I have to at least hear his explanation.

“Soul magic,” Cato whispers. “My magic. I decided if I couldn’t learn more magic, then I’d just have to change what I already had.”

I draw my own soul magic around me, comforted by its warmth. Its lightness. It welcomes me into it, flooding me with heat as Cato’s soul opens up to me, revealing stark whiteness. The sight of it steals my breath, as there’s hardly any color left; hardly a single trace that a soul was ever even there.

“What happened to you?” My voice cracks. I clench the cage closer to my chest, as though it will somehow keep me standing.

When Cato closes the space between us, I do everything to keep my legs from buckling. “I did this for us,” he says. “For you, so you didn’t have to be embarrassed by me. So that we could have a better life, together.”

I shake my head, a few loose curls shaking free from my thick braid. “I was never embarrassed, not even a little bit. Cato, your soul—”

“Trust me.” His voice is sharp and surprisingly earnest. He tries to reach out, as if to take my hand, but the rabbit squeals in horror as he approaches. I flinch back, throat constricting.

“What have you done to your soul magic?”

Cato waves the question away with a flourish of his hands. “This magic has always been inside of us; I’m simply choosing to look at it in a different way. Sira, you’ve told me before that you love me. If you weren’t lying about that, then you should trust me. Trust that I’m going to pave a new way of life for us.”

I try to ignore my fear. This is Cato, after all. Cato, who was red-faced and shy as we shared our first kiss on the shores of Arida years ago. The boy I snuck out to visit while growing up, just so that we could hold each other and gossip beneath the moonlight. He was the same man I shared my bed with each night, and who woke me up with a shower of kisses each morning.

But he’s no longer that person, and hasn’t been for some time.

I say, “I trust you,” though it’s the biggest lie I’ve ever told.

“Good.” Cato reaches out to stroke his thumb across my cheek, and I try not to cringe beneath his touch. “For now, you and I are the only ones who need to know about this.”

Basil’s the fourth to die this week.

If it weren’t for the blood coating his lips and chin, he’d look peaceful here on the sand; almost like he’s sleeping. Almost like he’ll wake up at any second and tease me for staring.

Behind me, Cato makes a show of my friend’s corpse, parading it about and telling anyone who will listen, “This is what happens to those with multiple magics; the gods are punishing us for our greed!”

Twelve have died so far, and because the island’s afraid, people eat his words up.

But I know the truth. The gods are not the ones behind these deaths—Cato is.

I remember the night I confronted him. How I’d looked
into his eyes and realized there was no longer even a small spark of the boy I once loved left in this wicked, callous man.

“Dead because his magic lashed out? You really expect me to believe that?” I’d shouted.

His response had been to snatch my face in his hands and dig his fingers into my skin. My eyes had pooled from the pain as his nails clawed into me, but not hard enough to leave a mark. Never enough to leave a mark.

“You will keep your mouth shut,” he’d said. “Or I swear to you that I will destroy every soul on Arida.”

That was the day the first body had been found, a week after I’d caught him with the rabbit. I wish with everything in me that I’d done more to stop him then, but no matter how hard I search, I can’t seem to find any fight left within me. He’s taken all of me.

“We have to stop this!” I’ve no idea who speaks, because I don’t turn to look. I keep staring at Basil, waiting for him to open his eyes. Waiting for him to take a breath. I don’t even hear Cato approach, though I jerk my hand from his when he tries to take it.

“I have an idea.” He takes my hand again, fingers pinching forcefully into my skin so that I can’t rip away. “Sira can take your magic away!”

“What in the gods’ blood are you talking about?” I don’t care that my words are harsh. “No, I can’t.”

Though Cato’s face doesn’t twist in surprise, it does sour. He politely excuses himself from the others by digging his nails into my palms, forcing me to follow him until we’re far enough from the others that he can speak freely.

“You’ve always wanted to help people.” He says it like an accusation. “Now you have that chance. Those with multiple magics need to free themselves from danger. You can take all but one of their magics, Sira.”

“I will not.”

He wraps his arms around me as if in an embrace, though one hand bends my arms at a painful angle. The other holds my mouth to his chest, so that it muffles the sound when I cry out.

“You will take their magic.” His snarl comes with a smile. If anyone were to turn to us, they might think he’s being sweet. “I don’t care which, let them choose. But you will take it, or gods help you, I will make you watch as I destroy every last one of their souls. Now put on a smile, my love, and keep your mouth shut.”

With tears in my eyes, I listen. Because what else can I do?

“Be careful with it,” I tell the frightened girl in front of me, just as I’ve told each of them before her, “for that charm will forever hold part of your soul. Break it, and you’ll live, but you’ll never be the same.”

But I’m not the same, either.

For weeks I’ve obeyed Cato, using a mix of soul magic and curse magic to steal magic away from others. It disgusts me that it’s not even hard; I do it by diving into their souls and ripping half from it. Then I curse that half into a charm for them to wear.

When I finish, the girl’s mother pulls me into a tight embrace that sets my body on fire. “Bless you, Sira,” she says, as though I’ve saved her daughter by stealing her restoration magic. Rigid, I’m barely able to offer a nod. But she’s too relieved to notice, and together they hurry out the door.

As it shuts behind them, I add another bracelet to my wrist.

That girl was the last of them. Now, everyone has only a single magic; the whole island has been purged.

Day by day the number of leather bracelets on my wrists has grown—marked with the blood of those whose charms I
control. The power over so many souls has turned my gentle magic into a seething, hungry beast.

Part of me wants to peel the bracelets from my skin and hide them out of my sight, but I can’t risk Cato finding them. I won’t risk him gaining control of these people, or the power that comes with their blood.

My heart has become more calloused with every magic I steal, sickened by the praise of those who thank me for being selfless enough to take care of them first, instead of worrying about my own multiple magics. They love me for doing this, and praise Cato for having this idea and saving them all from their demise. He’s a king in their eyes, guiding them to safety. And because the island is still in shambles—because our people are still fearful and looking for guidance on how to navigate living with only one type of magic—they make his title real. And they make me their queen.

Stars, if only they knew. If only they could tell why I’ve stopped being able to look into their eyes. If only they could feel the guilt that plagues me, turning my hair gray and withering my skin.

If only they knew how I hate myself as much as I hate Cato.

He finds me later that night by the shore, staring out at the ocean and silently begging it to claim me.

“It’s your turn,” he says flatly. “It’s time to get rid of everything but your soul magic.”

My eyes flash to meet his, icy and sharp; I always expected this moment to come.

“And what if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll kill you,” he says. “Though I hope it doesn’t come to that. We were always meant for this, Sira. You were always meant to be behind me as I ruled.”

His words are so ridiculous that I laugh. It’s a fierce, bitter
sound that feels far too natural on my lips. I scratch at the leather bands around my wrist.

“You cannot kill someone who is already dead,” I say as his eyes go cold. He grabs my hand and presses the handle of his skinning knife into my palm. I glide my thumb over its cool steel, settled by the blade.

“I did this for you,” he growls, “so that we could have a better life. You should appreciate the work it took for me to get here. I didn’t just get us a home, I got us a kingdom.”

I nearly laugh again at the word
kingdom
. It bubbles in my chest, threatening to burst, but I swallow it down like lead. There’s no rationalizing with a man who craves nothing but power.

“You’ll give up your magic,” he demands. “Now.”

If I tear half my soul away and curse it into a charm, I’ve no doubt he’ll take that charm to assure I can’t ever break my curse, or anyone else’s.

But Cato’s controlled me for long enough.

“Why can’t I keep curse magic, instead?” I ask him flatly, flicking the skinning knife open.

“Because then you’d have to live on a different island.” Though he drops this news casually, the words grind into me. “We’re expanding the kingdom. I’ll keep a small group here on Arida; twenty advisers for each of the magics, to help build my kingdom. The others will spread out to the island that uses the magic they chose. As the only two with soul magic, you and I will reign.”

My blood boils so fiercely I can’t seem to catch my breath. “What about the families? If a child practices a different magic than their father, would you really split them up?”

He holds his jaw high. “The family can remain together. But should they practice a magic other than that of the island they live on, we’ll have to imprison them.”

“You’ve already taken so much from these people,” I say. “Are you so afraid of being viewed as weak, that you’ll take choice from them, too?”

“It’s not about being weak.” He practically spits the words at me. “It’s about being fair. Never again will anyone feel like they’re not good enough. There will be no competition
.
Everyone will work together, learning the same magic of their island.”

My hands shake. “And what of soul magic? It’s hardly fair to keep it for ourselves. This magic is powerful, Cato. I never shared it with others because I was always trying to make you feel important. You wanted it to be our own special practice, and I agreed so that you could feel like you have something no one else has. But if you’re so worried about fairness, shouldn’t we be sharing this magic with anyone who wants to learn? We can make it the magic of Arida.”

Shadows fill his cheekbones and sharpen his face. “Soul magic is too powerful. In the wrong hands, it would be dangerous. Other than the two of us, no one else can ever know this magic.”

The response that sparks within me is sharp bewilderment. I throw my head back with a vicious sneer.
Dangerous
, he says, as if it wasn’t him who wrecked the lives of hundreds and destroyed their peaceful home.
Fair
, he says, as though that’s ever been what he’s concerned with. As if he wasn’t ever just jealous of me and everyone else with more magic than him. As if he doesn’t love that everyone now praises him, and has made him a king.

I rise to my feet, but it’s no longer in resignation. I drag the skinning knife across my palm and close my fist around it, coating it in my blood.

I’ll separate my magic, fine. But it won’t be so he can control me. I’m done with Cato. This man is nothing more than a coward trying to justify his need to feel important. To feel powerful. And it’s time someone put this small man in his place.

I tear into my own soul, ripped and bruised and shredded. It’s so simple, as easy as breathing. But it’s not curse magic I rip from it; it’s soul magic.

Cato stretches his hand out expectantly, but rather than give him the cursed knife, I shove it deep into his palm.

He reels back, his face so astonished that it’s clear he never expected I might do something to harm him. But as he’s no longer the boy I used to know, I am no longer that girl.

The blood coating my palm mixes with his, and I slap it across his forehead.

I hardly know what I’m doing. My body is three steps ahead of my mind, acting on the angry impulse writhing within me. Acting on the power and the heat of the charms around my wrist.

“You will forget my name,” I snarl, pinning him to the ground. Cato buckles and attempts to throw me off, but somehow I manage to keep him down. My body convulses. With rage, perhaps. Or maybe with fear.

“You will forget my face, and that anyone ever loved you. May this magic be every bit the beast you are; may it curse your bloodline for all of eternity, almighty
king
.” I spit the word. “The moment you harm another creature, may this magic eat you from the inside out. May it spend its existence trying to accomplish nothing but the eradication of your soul. Should you let your guard down for even one moment, may it consume you entirely. Cato Montara, I hope it destroys you.”

I slam Cato’s head against the ground, and his eyes glaze over. By the time my mind and body catch up with each other, I practically fall off him, shaking so fiercely I can’t even scramble to my feet. My breaths come in sharp, desperate gasps, icicles shooting up my spine and through my veins. They’re all-consuming, but I can only laugh.