“The moment I find rest, the magic leaves and the light goes, and it’s just me in the dark.”
Her heart might break, imagining the ghost fighting for a moment’s rest in a hundred years of this. Her thoughts were interrupted by the roar of her stomach.
“What will happen to my magic, when I go?” She hoped the light would stay and it would shield him.
“It fades when you wink out. Everything goes back to black.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
The ghost smirked and plucked one of the fruits she had created—a pear with silver skin. She caught it and bit the tender flesh. The inside was red and dark as blood. Cold juice washed down her fingers. The ghost held a golden apple in his hands. He watched her, even as she ate through the core.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Selene wiped her mouth with one of the velvety leaves, feeling suddenly bashful.
“I don’t need it. I am in some sort of stasis. My heart beats, but I don’t change.”
“Is that why I can’t touch you?”
The ghost wet his lips. “Do you want to touch me?”
Selene inhaled sharply, heat flooding to her cheeks. He was beautiful like the fading light of a winter day. Of course she wanted to touch him. “I don’t like being told no.”
“Relentless. I remember that.”
“You’re mocking me.”
“I would never.” His smile was sweeter than the fruit she’d dreamed up. A flash of light, and then gone. His brows furrowed with the effort of remembering. “I don’t know why I can’t be touched. I just know it’s important.”
Selene worried her bottom lip. She let the silence lengthen between them. With each passing moment, her head grew heavier. If only she could fall into his arms for a bit of rest and the magic of sleep. It was not hard to imagine the weight of him, the rush of his skin. She leaned against one of the giant leaves she’d created from blood and misery, a poor substitute. If she closed her eyes for a while, she’d be ready for more magic. She didn’t have to go back to a world where all her dreams were waiting to be crushed.
“Why can’t you bleed yourself free?”
“You ask so many questions.”
“You give so few answers.”
His laugh was deep and resonant. She could trace the left-handed melody. God, he was beautiful.
“If I have tried it, I left with only the shadow of certainty that it won’t work.” The ghost shifted, his hands tracking the scars on his forearms. He looked at her with an intensity even she couldn’t match. “Before you return, find a piece of sky. Bring it to me.”
“That’s not a question.”
There was something binding in his words. The air shivered around her, heavier and heavier, like a violent wind. Pushing her out, out until she could fulfill what he asked of her. She dug her heels into the ground, bracing herself as if standing in the way of a storm.
“You did not swear to answer questions.” The ghost’s blue eyes were fire bright. “You cannot return until it is done.”
“What does that mean?”
“Quickly.” He shook his head. “The other way out is one you would not like.”
Her feet slipped on the shadowy floor as the darkness ripped her from the ghost’s light. Like the pull of a tide, threatening to suck her into the darkest part of the ocean. This was not like her magic. This was gravitational, so much bigger than music could ever be. Like a candle to a moon, he said. She wished she knew more.
She didn’t want to be forced out of the mirror by the tendrils of shadow that swirled around her. She bit down hard on the pad of her thumb. This time, she pulled the magic from the terrible reality that waited for her outside. Her things could be packed up and she could be out on the streets. And what she wanted, what she wanted was to stay. But she trusted the ghost’s warning. She needed him to be true.
Let me out, she thought.
And then she was crouched against the cold stone in front of the beveled mirror. The bite she’d made in the mirror still bled. The rest of her cuts had healed, like she’d made them years before.
