Мэгги Стивотер - Ballad

"Grow a set," I suggested, and he laughed weakly. "Help me up."

He hauled on my arms, but my legs just gave out again. Nobody seemed to notice us; they were all dazzled and glamored by the faeries dancing in their midst. That was okay. I couldn't afford to get pulled out of the fire by some well-meaning bystander.

"You'll really need those balls," I said, "because I think you're going to have to carry me."

I watched his throat move as he swallowed wordlessly and awkwardly picked me up, arms under my knees and looped around my back and armpit. I held on and resisted the temptation to bury my face into his sweater. It would've been nice to take his smell, pipes and leather and soap, with me, but he only stank of Cernunnos right now anyway. I was going to have to go it alone.

James silently carried me around the back of the bonfire. It was huge now, shooting forty or fifty feet into the air with toxiclooking flames from whatever upholstery was currently fueling it. On this side, the farthest away from the buildings, we were alone. Just us and the yawning darkness of the hills beyond the firelight.

Even twenty feet away from the fire, the heat of it seared my face. James didn't so much kneel as crumple to the ground with me, and suddenly he hugged me, hard.

"Nuala," he said. "I have the most awful feeling about this."

My chest was bursting with the effort of keeping my heart beating. "There's no other way," I whispered. "Help me stand."

"You can't stand."

It was desperately important that I walk into the fire under my own power. I didn't know if it was a real reason, or just one of principle, but I just felt like I had to do it myself. "Get me close, then help me up."

He carried me a few steps closer to the fire and halted.

"Now say my name back to me," I whispered. "So I know you won't screw it up and I won't forget you."

James said it into my ear. Perfectly. Then he lowered me to my feet, and I stood.

There was no time for anything else. No time to stretch my hand up to the white flames to get used to the idea. No time to worry about whether or not he would stay here with me or leave to find Dee. No time to wonder if saying my name would really work. No time to think that if it didn't, it really would be like I was dying. Because the girl that got a new body from the flames wouldn't be me. Not anymore.

I should've told James I loved him before I went. But there wasn't time for that either.

I stumbled into the fire.

This was hell. Hell was waiting for her to scream. Hell was watching her fists ball, her hair singe, her mouth make the shape of tears even though the heat stole the drops before they could run down her face.

She fell to her knees.

I couldn't move. I just stood there, my hands clenched at my sides, the fire searing my cheeks. I couldn't stop shaking.

Hell was seeing that it was going to take a long time to burn Nuala to nothing.

Human.

Please, please, human.

It took me too long to find my voice, and for a horrible second I thought I'd forgotten how to say her name, even though I'd just said it to her. However long ago that was. Seconds? Minutes?

Hours?

"Amhrán-Liath-na-Méine," I said. Softly. In case anyone was listening. Nuala screamed. Shit.

The scream trailed off, thin and wet-sounding, but I couldn't stop hearing it. Worse, I couldn't stop seeing the shape of her face when she did it. My brain just kept playing it over and over again, imposing it over her dark form in the flames, twisting and shaking.

I folded my arms over my chest, my fists white-knuckled against my body, and I said, "Amhrán-Liath-na-Méine."

She screamed again.

Goose bumps burst along my skin. Maybe Eleanor could lie.

Maybe she could bend the truth. I didn't know what my words were doing to Nuala, but I was scared shitless to say her name a third time.

"Piper!"

I jerked at the sound of the voice. At first I couldn't tell where it was coming from, and then I realized it was coming from behind me. How far behind, I couldn't tell. Somewhere out in that hungry darkness.

"Piper! James Morgan!"

I squinted into the blackness, relieved for the second's rest from watching Nuala burn.

"Piper, if you love the cloverhand, you will come here."

My stomach flipped over, unpleasantly, as I turned and saw a faerie crouched in the darkness, about forty feet from the bonfire. His skin was tinged greenish, making him look like a corpse in the moving firelight. "What do you want?"

"Didn't the leanan sidhe tell you? To watch the cloverhand tonight?" The faerie stood up, a long, elegant gesture that somehow seemed inhuman. "They're going to kill her, and make a new king of the dead from her heart, piper. He'll control us and the dead, with the cloverhand's powers. For us, it will be ignoble. For you and every other human, it will be hell."

I looked over my shoulder at the bonfire. I could still see Nuala, a dark form in the voracious flames, and on the other side, the figures of dancing students.

"Why should I trust you?" I asked him, but really, what I wanted to know was why I should leave Nuala in those flames by herself when I promised her I would watch her and say her name. And now I had to start all over again --seven times uninterrupted, Eleanor had said, and watch her burn from beginning to end.

The faerie smiled a thin smile, white teeth in the darkness. "We saved your life once, don't you remember, piper? When she asked us, we saved your life. She traded Luke Dillon's life for yours."

My heart stopped beating. I couldn't breathe.

"I don't think you understand, human. They're taking her cloverhand powers. They'll be able to go anywhere, do anything. And they're killing her for it. I thought you loved her."

Now I heard another scream, this time from beyond where the faerie stood, and I knew that voice too. It was too like her singing voice to be anyone else's. The faerie didn't flinch.

"Piper, I would not be here talking to you if you were not what was needed."

"I need--I need a second," I demanded. I turned back to the bonfire. Nuala was on her knees, hands covering her face, her hair and fingertips black, her shoulders shaking. It wasn't fair.

Wasn't she supposed to pass out--get some sort of mercy?

"Amhrán-Liath-na-Méine," I said. Nuala shuddered, hard enough for me to see it. "Amhrán-Liath-na-Méine." She balled up her broken fingers against her face. "Amhrán-Liath-naMéine." I whispered her name four more times, and each time, Nuala wailed, agonized and awful.

If only I could do both. How could it take so long for her to burn?

And behind me, another scream sounded, and this one echoed

Nuala's, full of pain. Dee's voice. I had to decide.

In my head, I knew I had to try to save Dee. She was the more important. Even if she hadn't been Dee, she was powerful and she could make the fey powerful. There wasn't any question-this was why Eleanor had told me how to keep Nuala's memories. Because she was betting that I would stay by Nuala's side to watch her burn from beginning to end instead of interfering with whatever they were doing.

And she was right. I wanted Nuala. God, I wanted Nuala. It made my stupid crush on Dee so inane in comparison. But to have Nuala, I had to stay until the last bit of Nuala was gone.

And by then it would be too late for Dee.

Save Nuala or save the world?

If only I'd just been screwing myself over, instead of me and

Nuala.

The worst part was that the last thing I saw Nuala do was take her hands down from her face. Just in time to see me leave her behind.

In the movies, they have a plan. They know the odds are terrible, but they also know where they're going, they have large guns with lots of bullets, and they have an insane plan that involves martial arts and a pulley system. In real life, you have a sick feeling in your stomach, a pile of adrenalin, and a general idea of where shit is going down. And the universe is laughing and saying well, go to it, bucko. Life sucked.