Lady Renegades (19 page)

I
SWEAR I
could still hear a faint echo from where the sword had clattered to the ground, but over that, there was the sound of my own blood rushing in my ears and a slight, broken sob coming from my lips.

He was here. He was here and he was
fine.
Just the David I had known, and my own relief carried me forward until I was right in front of him, my arms around his neck before I could let myself think.

“You're okay,” I said, breathing him in. He smelled familiar, like soap and the ink from the printers in the newspaper room.

It was weird, I thought, burying my face in his neck, that after all that time, that smell should still cling to him, that he would be wearing clothes much more suited for the winter than a southern summer, and even as I hugged him tight to me, I knew.

I knew.

“Easy there.” He laughed against my temple even as he hugged me back. “You're going to wrinkle my sweet sweater.”

I laughed, the sound watery because tears were already choking me. “Couldn't make it any worse.”

He pulled back then, his hand coming up to cup my face. “I missed you,” he told me, and I felt like I couldn't breathe. This wasn't real—I wasn't sure how he was doing it, or if it was even him doing this particular trick—but just for a moment, I didn't care.

“I missed you, too,” I told him, and then I was on my tiptoes, pressing my mouth to his.

His kiss was as familiar as that soap smell that clung to him, and I tightened my hands on his shoulders, thinking back to that first night he'd kissed me at Cotillion.

He had kissed me then because we'd thought one or both of us might die that night, and this kiss had some of that same desperation. If this was just an illusion, it was a good one, and I'd take it.

When we parted, David looked down at me, smiling fondly, his thumb running across my lower lip. “This seems like a time for egregious felicitations,” he said, and I sucked in a breath. It was an old joke between us, using the words we'd each missed in spelling bees growing up, and one that made me think, just for a minute, that maybe I was wrong about him not really being him. He looked like David and smelled like David, and now he was making jokes like David. In that moment, I suddenly wanted him to
be
David so badly that it hurt.

That was the worst part. Admitting that after all of this, after trying to find him and stop whatever Oracle-induced craziness he had going on, what I'd really wanted was to see
him
again. It felt like such a hard thing to admit for some reason, that it had been the girl in me driving this whole thing on, not the Paladin.

Raising my head to look at David, I studied his face. It was a face I'd seen every day of my life, seemed like, and one I couldn't bear to think of not seeing again.

“I wish we hadn't wasted all that time hating each other,” I told him, and he laughed again. It was his laugh, his eyes, his freckles scattered across his nose, even if it wasn't really him.

“I never hated you,” he said softly, and I smiled even as my heart broke. If this wasn't the real David, was there some part of him still in this? Was he somehow projecting the him he'd been? I kind of hoped so.

“Oh, I totally hated you,” I told him. “Didn't fake that a bit.”

He made a sort of huffing, disdainful sound that I had heard a thousand times, and I wondered if I'd ever hear it again after today.

Then David tilted his chin down, and for a second, I thought he was going to kiss me again. I definitely wanted him to.

But instead, he looked into my eyes and murmured, “Leave me here, Harper.”

“Is this even the real you?” I asked, and he sighed again, the corners of his mouth quirking down quickly. Another familiar expression that made my chest hurt.

“Does it matter?” he asked, and I stepped back, my head starting to clear. It had been nice to believe in this for a little while, but I couldn't keep pretending, no matter how much I wanted to. This was just another distraction, and while I didn't know how he was doing it, I knew I couldn't give in anymore.

“Yes,” I said, and now there was a good two feet of space between us. “Because I can't just walk out of here and pretend I said good-bye to the real you, when actual you is still in here.”

A crease appeared between David's brows. “Harper, isn't it better to remember me this way?” he asked, and look, I wanted to say yes. I wanted to kiss him one more time and not have to confront whatever scary things might be waiting for me in this cave.

But that wasn't who I was, not as a Paladin, not as a person.

“I can't,” I told him now, and his frown deepened. It seemed like he was shimmering for a second, and I suddenly realized I could see the rock wall of the cave behind him.
Through
him.

“This is all that's left of me, Harper,” he said, but his voice was faint. “What's waiting for you farther on . . . that's not me anymore.”

My eyes stung with unshed tears. I believed him, that this . . . vision or whatever it was of him was the last, dying remnants of the real David, saying good-bye. Maybe because he loved me, maybe because he didn't want me stopping the Oracle.

Knowing David, it was probably a little bit of both.

“I can't,” I said again. And then, firmer, “I
won't.
”

With that, I bent to pick up my fallen sword, and then I stepped forward, moving through him as he faded from sight completely.

Head held high, I walked out of the open cave space and toward a narrow fissure in the back wall of the cave. The farther I went, the brighter the passageway got, and for a moment, I wondered if there was a hole in the ceiling, opening up to the sky, like it had in the other chamber. But then I realized that, no, the light wasn't coming from above, but from out in front of me. And it wasn't the soft yellow glow of the sun, but the bright,
unnatural gold I'd seen spilling out of David's eyes over and over again. I remembered the way he'd looked in the grips of a vision and tried to tell myself I was prepared for whatever it was I was going to see when I reached the end of this path.

I was wrong.

The narrow passage gave way to another, larger open chamber, so high the ceiling was lost in the gloom despite the light.

David—the real David—sat in the middle of this chamber. His clothes were ragged and dirty, with holes in his T-shirt and in the knees of his jeans. I had a feeling they were the same clothes he'd been wearing the night he left Pine Grove, and for some reason, that made me the saddest of all. What had he been through since that last night? What had happened to him?

“David,” I called, the name echoing around the cave, seeming to lodge in my heart as I said it.

Because it wasn't David sitting in front of me. Despite the ragged clothes, the hair that still stuck up in weird tufts, the truly terrible footwear, the person in front of me wasn't the boy I had loved. He was . . . a thing.

An Oracle.

And then his bright eyes turned to me, mouth opening.

For one heartbeat, stupid as it sounds, I thought maybe I was wrong. Maybe he wasn't as far gone as I'd thought, and he was going call me “Pres,” and things would be okay. That the illusion he'd created was close to the real thing.

Instead, he looked at me with those blinding eyes and intoned, “
Paladin.
”

I
SWALLOWED HARD,
my mouth dry.

“You used to have a different name for me,” I said, my voice sounding thin and tight. “Do you remember that? You called me Pres.”

David—or the thing that had been David—didn't move, didn't even give any sense that he'd heard me.

Cold sweat was dripping down my back, but I made myself step a little closer. “Of course, I'm sure there were other things you called me that weren't nearly as nice, but you usually didn't say those to my face.”

“Where is the Mage?” David asked, the words echoing, and I bit back a sigh.

“Which one? Ryan or Blythe? We have two, you know, and it's a total—”

David flung out one hand, a bolt of golden light shooting from his palm and cracking against the rock behind me. Tiny pebbles and dust flew, and I flinched away.

“That's a new trick,” I said, wishing I didn't sound so shaky. “Where did you pick that up?”

“You know the Mage I'm speaking of,” David said, and I wondered if we'd spend these last moments like this, talking in circles around each other.

But then maybe these weren't the last moments. Maybe there was a chance that I could actually find the David still inside him.

And if there wasn't . . .

I shifted my grip on the sword. The metal was cold despite my sweaty palms, the little grooves on the hilt biting into my skin. That was good, though. The discomfort made me feel grounded and aware, the same way I'd always liked my ponytail just a little too tight at cheerleading practice. Minor pain kept you from focusing on major pain. In cheerleading, that had been the stretch and burn of muscles.

Now the pain was all in my heart.

“Blythe isn't here,” I said to him. “We left her behind when we realized what she wanted to do to you. David, we're here to help you.”

He tilted his head just a little to the left, like he was trying to hear something from a distance. “We?” he repeated.

“Bee and I. And Ryan, too, he . . . he helped us before we left. David, there are people who care about you, people who want to save you.”

A little smile twisted his mouth, but there was nothing David-like in it. “Save me? From what?”

I faltered, my sneakers skidding a little on the damp rock. “From . . . this. From hurting people, from not being who you really are. David, there aren't any more Ephors. There's no one
to use you or who wants to control you, and if we could find some way to help you get rid of your powers—”

Another bolt of light, another
crack
, and a showering of little rocks.

“This is who I am,” he intoned, the voice his and not his all at the same time. “This is
what
I am.”

I shook my head. “No. You're a lot more than this, David, and you deserve an actual life.”

There was a low humming noise, and I wondered if it had been there the whole time. I could feel the hairs on my arms standing up, a chill slithering down my spine, and my hands tightened on the hilt of the sword.

“You saw this,” I said, my voice thick with tears. “I don't know if you even remember it anymore, but that first day we met Blythe, you sat in my car and told me you used to have bad dreams about me.”

David didn't move, didn't give any sign of even hearing me. His eyes were nothing but glowing circles, and his whole body was lined in light. Still, I made myself keep going.

“You said we were fighting, but we weren't angry. We were sad.”

Dropping one hand from the sword, I dashed at the tears on my face. “And you were right. I'm not angry. Not about any of it.”

“Then why are you holding a sword?”

David's voice was still doing that echo thing, like there was more than one voice coming out of his mouth. I'd heard that before, of course. Whenever he had a vision, he tended to sound like that. But now, I wasn't sure if it was the acoustics in the cave,
or the power he'd developed, but it was like a chorus of voices now.

Still, that question . . . it hadn't sounded like the Oracle. For all those voices making all that noise, there was a little edge, just the tiniest hint of snark, which sounded like David.

I tried not to let that make me too hopeful. So he sounded like himself. So there was still a part of him in there. I'd known that, right? It's why he'd come here to hide himself, trying to stop this from happening. But I hadn't been able to let that happen. I'd had to find him and see for myself, and now I was going to pay the price for that.

Both my hands were wrapped tight around the hilt of the sword again, but I made myself sound as light as I could as I called back, “Oh, you know me. Always have to make sure I have the right accessory. A sword just felt appropriate for visiting my magical ex-boyfriend in a cave. Although now I'm wondering if it isn't a bit much.”

There was no hint of anything in David's eyes—he didn't really have eyes now—but I thought there was the slightest hint of a smile.

It wasn't much, but it was something.

“Did you ever read
A Wrinkle in Time
?” I called out to him now. “You probably did because like every smart kid loves that book, and you were the smartest kid I knew. Do you remember at the end, when Meg saves her little brother by reminding him who he is? Telling him she loves him?”

Still no reaction, but I moved closer, letting the sword drop to my side.

“I don't know if I believe that can actually work. I'd like to, obviously. And I do love you.”

The glow in David's eyes didn't really dim, it couldn't have, but I could have sworn something flickered across his face.

I kept going. “And Saylor loved you. Not the Oracle you, although it probably started there. But she loved you the
person.
Even Alexander—” I broke off, wondering if I should mention what we'd discovered, that Alexander was David's father, but I wasn't sure it would do any good right now. Instead, I just said, “He tried to save you from this, too. Me, Bee, Ryan . . . we all looked for a way to save
you,
not because you were an Oracle, but because you're
you.
”

By now, I had come close enough that I could almost reach out and touch him, and to my surprise, David rose to his feet, facing me almost uncertainly.

“Just try,” I said, my voice cracking. “Try to remember who you were before all of this. We've looked through spell books, and we've tried rituals, and none of it has worked. But maybe that's because we can't fix this after all. Maybe only you can do that.”

He still didn't move, but I was sure the light in his eyes was dimmer now, and hope surged in my chest, so sharp it ached.

“David,” I said, reaching out with one hand. It was trembling, but I kept it out there anyway, waiting. Hoping.

Slowly, he raised his own hand. Like the rest of him, it glowed faintly, fingers outlined in light, but when his fingers touched mine, they were warm and solid and . . . normal.

My throat ached, and I moved closer. He was in there, I knew he was. We could
fix
this, somehow, if we just—

“Harper!”

I turned, startled, to see Blythe behind me, her yellow dress bright in the gloom, Bee right on her heels.

“Blythe?” I asked, confused. How had she gotten here, and why?

David's hand fell away from mine, and his features twisted into a snarl, eyes glowing so brightly I winced and threw one hand up against the glare.

I could feel magic building, and David lifted his hand again, the one that had just been touching mine. Light lined his fingers as they moved, pointing toward Blythe.

And Bee.

I didn't think.

I raised the sword and lunged forward.