“No,” I say, my voice trembling. “I won’t let you go.”
As soon as I say it, a nighthawk takes flight from a nearby tree, its brown-and-white feathers catching the starlight. It lands on Ivy’s windowsill and watches us.
My stomach stirs as I remember the grimoire in Galen’s office. The nighthawk is giving me a gift.
Before I can talk myself out of it, before I even know what I’m doing, I move to the windowsill and extend my arm. The bird steps onto my wrist, and I bring it into the room.
My magic knows what I’m doing, and it awakens inside me, strong and forceful and ready for whatever I ask of it.
I don’t remember everything I read in the grimoire, but I whisper the words that I do, focusing on my connection to the bird. I can hear its heartbeat racing. I focus on the noise, on my magic, on that solid line of life I so desperately need.
“A life for a life, from one to the next, a heart for a heart, restore her breath.”
Magic pours from me and encircles the bird, its heart beating slower and slower until finally it stops.
Tears fall from my eyes as I set the bird gently on the windowsill. “Thank you,” I whisper, holding its life in my hands, an ivory glow shining all around it.
I rush to the bed and sit beside Ivy. I don’t know what I’m doing, but my magic takes over, guiding my words.
I feel it when Ivy’s weakened life latches on to my magic, when her body senses the spell and opens itself up to it. I whisper the words frantically, and the bird’s heartbeat glows brighter and brighter in my hand.
My voice gets louder, and Ivy’s muscles tense as I release the life into her. I watch as it takes hold, as she comes back to life with each second that passes, her body cooling and her welts healing. She jolts upright in bed, her eyes wild, her hands latching on to me, squeezing too tight.
“What did you do?” Her voice isn’t her own. It’s monstrous. Her eyes frantically search the room, landing on the nighthawk on the sill.
She turns back to me, her eyes so wide they could fall from her skull.
“What did you do?” she says again, and I’m so scared that for a moment, all I can do is violently shake my head.
“I…” I begin, not sure what to say. Terror grabs me as the full weight of my actions comes crashing down on me. “I couldn’t let you die,” I finally get out.
“That wasn’t your choice to make!” Ivy yells, shoving me off the bed.
I land on the floor, knocking into the dresser behind me.
“It was the only choice,” I plead, begging her to understand.
“You’ve ruined me,” she says, crying out for her mother.
The door flies open, and Ivy’s parents and mine rush into the room.
“Ivy!” Mrs. Eldon shouts, hurrying to the bed.
Ivy sobs, burying her face in her mother’s chest. “I shouldn’t be here,” she cries, her uncontrollable sobs shaking the whole room.
The nighthawk lies peacefully on the windowsill, and one by one, everyone in the room turns to look at me as they realize what I did.
“You didn’t,” my mother says, her hand covering her mouth.
“I… I didn’t know what I was doing. I just acted. It was like my body took over. I’m sorry.” The words are all disjointed, a jumbled mess as they fight their way through my tears.
“Get her out of here!” Ivy shouts, clutching her mother.
I scramble to my feet and try to find the words to explain, but Ivy looks at me as if I’m evil incarnate, the most vile thing she’s ever seen in her life. “Now!” she shouts.
My dad helps me out of the room, and Ivy’s father slams the door behind us, but it isn’t enough to block out the sound of Ivy’s screams.
They take hold of me until I’m certain I will never stop hearing them, not for a single second, for the rest of my life.
twenty-five
My dad has to drag me home. I claw and yell, desperate to get back to Ivy, desperate to heal what I broke. But once I’m on the couch staring into the fire, I realize I will never be able to fix it. The way she looked at me told me all I need to know.
My mother has stayed behind, presumably to figure out how to get Ivy’s parents to keep my secret. If our coven learns that I used dark magic to save Ivy’s life, it will create chaos. Witches will demand punishment. My parents will be held accountable for my sins. And our relationship with the mainland will crumble.
All of our progress, erased in the span of a single breath.
But this is Ivy. Ivy. My best friend, my soul mate, the love of my life. And even as I sit here with tears in my eyes, I know I would make the same decision again. It’s selfish—I know that it is—but I have to learn to be okay with that. I have to learn to accept labels I’ve lived in fear of my entire life.