Fungus of the Heart (6 page)

She shakes her head. “I like my cooking.”

“You like starving yourself with portions unfit for a squirrel, because you can’t stand the thought of nourishing yourself while there are those who can’t.”

Milena stands. “I hate to cut the pep talk short, but I need to start dinner.”

“At least let me help.”

“No.”

“Tomorrow?”

“You don’t give up, do you?”

“No.”

And as she laughs, I’m that much closer to breaking her.

*

Milena sleeps with one eye open. But still, I’m making progress.

With each passing day, she talks more, eats more. Even smiles more.

Today, she says, “When I was sixteen, I revealed my nature to my parents. I told them I needed to find another Protector to teach me about my power. So I left, and found a Protector willing to help me. After a few weeks of training, he tried to rape me. I’m sure he thought he could overpower me, since I still didn’t know how to control my abilities very well. But I killed him. I didn’t mean to. I don’t think I meant to. Anyway, I had no intention of returning here. I hated my parents, and everyone in my community. So after I killed Daniel, I wandered around from village to village, searching for a new home. But none of them would grant me citizenship.”

“I don’t see how that’s possible,” I say. “Everyone wants a Protector.”

“I wanted to find a group who liked me for who I am, not what I am. So I told them I wouldn’t use my power under any circumstances. They begged and pleaded for me to change my mind, of course, but I wouldn’t waver in my determination. Eventually, they grew bitter, and banished me. This happened over and over. No one wanted me, so I returned here.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well. At least my naiveté didn’t get me killed. I’m lucky.”

“You shouldn’t minimalize the pain of your past.”

“You’d rather I wallow in self-pity?”

“I’m merely suggesting that you practice self-empathy. Because if you’re not a friend to yourself, then you’re an enemy. And that’s no way to live.”

Then, out of nowhere I can imagine, Milena kisses me.

But don’t worry. The tentacles of warmth extending from my stomach don’t mean a thing. Her lips simply remind me of yours.

“I belong to Cailin,” I say.

“I know,” Milena says. “I’m sorry.”

“If that’s true, then why are you smiling?”

“Sometimes I smile when I’m embarrassed.”

“Just don’t let it happen again.”

Milena nods, and escapes into the kitchen with the dishes.

Soon, I’m asleep in my bedroom as my dreamself vomits blood into a scrying bucket on the table.

The water boils, rises. Transforms into the Imposter.

I try to walk away, but my feet root into the floor. “You don’t give up, do you?”

“No,” she says. “I need to talk to you.”

“I’ve never fallen for your trickery before. What makes you think you’ll succeed this time?”

“Just hear me out. Please?”

“I don’t actually have choice in the matter, do I?”

“I suppose not.”

“Then let’s get this over with.”

The Imposter plays with a long ashen braid. “I just…I want you to know I won’t mind if you give yourself to Milena. I know how you feel about her.”

“You don’t know anything. I belong only to Cailin, and I wish you’d stop trying to interfere with our relationship.”

“For the last time, Night. I am Cailin.”

I shake my head. “You’re nothing but a shadow who preys on people’s hearts.”

The Imposter sighs. “If you won’t let yourself love Milena, at least promise me you won’t go through with your mission.”

“I’ll promise you nothing, nightfiend.”

And before the soulsucker can respond, a hand reaches out from the scrying bucket. My hand. Only stronger. Bigger. More grotesque.

The monster I’m destined to become pulls the Imposter down into the blood.

She reaches out to me with your familiar hand.

And I feel like saving her. Everything about her reminds me of you.

But I let the monster consume her.

Of course I do.

For you, I’d devour anyone.

*

Just as Milena climbs into bed, a young girl peeks into the bedroom. For all I know, she’s one of those child warriors from the west, so I enter a battle stance.

“Come in, Hada,” Milena says, smiling.

And I return to a relaxed position.

“I made you this,” Hada says, and hands over a soap carving of a dog, perhaps.

“Thank you so much,” Milena says.

“She’s an elephant.”

“I’ll cherish her always.”

“What about when you burn her all up?

“I’ll still cherish her.”

“Do you know my cousin Abran?”

“Yeah.”

“Abran says that lion candles are better than elephant candles, but I don’t think so.”

“I don’t think so either.”

Hada grins. “I gotta go now, because I told my mom I’d help her with the corn.”

“Alright.”

She bows. “Thank you for your protection.”

“Thank you for your cuteness.”

Hada giggles and rushes away.

“I know she’s only a child,” I say. “But even she should know better than to enter someone’s dwelling without knocking.”

“Don’t patronize her, please.” Milena sets the elephant on her nightstand. “Hada’s an intelligent girl, and she was following my orders. I’ve told all the children in the village they can enter my home at any time. No permission necessary.”

“And you didn’t think to inform me of this?”

“I didn’t think you’d mistake a child for a threat.”

“Now who’s patronizing children? They can be just as dangerous as adults, under certain circumstances.”

Milena sighs. “Fine. I should’ve told you. Happy?”

“I’ll be happy when you start sleeping soundly through the day.”

“You’re one to talk, with all the nightmares. You talk in your sleep. Scream, sometimes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“I’ll sleep outside from now on.”

“That’s ridiculous, Nightingale.”

“It’s my job to relieve you of stress. And listening to someone yelling isn’t exactly relaxing.”

“I like knowing someone’s in the house with me. It’s…comforting.”

“OK. But the offer’s still open, if you change your mind.”

“I won’t.” Milena lies back in her bed, and usually she turns away from me at once. But this time, she watches me as I stand vigil at her beside. “I’ve never seen a Sentinel in action. Would you show me some moves?”

“OK.”

So I perform for her, invoking the spirits of stone and wood, fighting invisible enemies throughout the room.

Afterward, Milena claps. “It’s almost like dancing.”

“Almost,” I say.

Then she rolls away.

Hours later, a nude man in a necktie crawls into the cottage. A smirk on his face and a briefcase balanced on his back.

I still haven’t tested Milena tonight, so I remain hidden behind the door.

The nude man lies on his stomach beside the bed. Grabs the suitcase. Stands.

And as he raises the suitcase above his head, Milena’s eyes open.

Of course, that’s my cue to tackle him.

“Why did you let him get so close?” she says.

I begin hogtying the man. “I didn’t want to immobilize him until I knew his intent.”

“You could’ve stopped him first and asked questions later.”

“People lie. Actions don’t.”

“Everything lies,” the man says.

“This suitcase is filled with rocks,” Milena says, lifting the weapon. “He could’ve killed me.”

“Life is death,” the man says.

I touch Milena’s arm. “You weren’t in any danger. I’d never let anyone hurt you.”

She kneels beside the man. “I know what you’ve heard about Protectors, but I’m willing to give your band food in exchange for an armistice. If I let you go, will you relay my offer?”

The man giggles.

“What’s so funny?” Milena says.

“You offer us food,” he says. “But my people never go hungry with so many sinners around.”

“He’s not a raider,” I say. “He’s of the Void.”

“I’m not familiar with that clan,” Milena says.

“If there’s more of them around, they’ll torture and kill your villagers without hesitation.”

“And we’ll gobble them all up,” the man says. “Though sometimes we have to throw up some people so we can keep eating the rest. But I think that still counts, right?”

Milena sprints all the way to the village core, and I barely keep up.

“These Void,” Milena says. “How many are there?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “It’s more of a movement than an actual group. They often travel alone, but sometimes—”

And the horde of Void skipping out of the forest finishes my sentence for me. They’re all nude. Neckties. Briefcases.

The nearby villagers stand and stare. Some of them laugh.

I enter a battle stance, but I don’t attack.

Because Milena’s already projecting her power.

Thousands of teal threads of energy erupt from her body and squirm in the air. After Milena screams, the strands burst into flame. Then the glowing strings whip forward and point at the horde.

But the Void keep coming.

“Why aren’t they scared?” Milena says.

“I’m sure they are,” I say. “They just don’t care.”

“What do I do?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to touch them.”

“OK. I’ll handle them.”

“You can’t fight all of them. Can you?”

“I don’t know.”

But I try. I inhale the spirits in the air, and let them guide me. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see you fighting alongside me. Protecting me. But no, you’re in the Fortress, because when you really needed me, I couldn’t protect you.

And I can’t protect this village either.

There’s too many Void, and I can’t incapacitate them fast enough.

“No!” Milena says.

I turn my head in time to see one of her threads brush a nude man’s face. He shrieks. Falls. Trembles with her energy, though of course he’s already dead.

Milena collapses, and her power recedes into her body.

The boy she saved touches her foot.

And I return to the battle.

Minutes later, I approach Milena. She’s crying, alone.

I sit in front of her. “Are you OK?”

She shakes her head. “I killed someone. I’ve never killed anyone before. Except for Daniel, but that was an accident.”

“You did what you had to do. That man would’ve killed the boy if you hadn’t stopped him.”

“Have you ever had to kill anyone?”

“Yes.”

“Does it get easier?”

“The act is easier. But it’s never easier to cope with afterward.”

She weeps again, and I take her hands in mine.

Then a young woman dressed like a fairy approaches the corpse of the man Milena killed. The girl opens a pink bag. Pulls out a crayon. Kneels beside the body.

“What are you doing?” Milena says.

“Death is so ugly,” the girl says. “I have to fix him.”

“Don’t touch him.”

But the Beautifier only smiles and draws a light blue flower on the corpse’s forehead. Milena turns away, and weeps again.

“Let’s go home,” I say. “I’ll cook you breakfast.”

She nods, squeezes my hands. Smiles.

Her heart is mine.

*

“Cailin,” I say, because you’re the first thought that comes to mind, but Milena doesn’t awaken. Doesn’t even stir.

She finally trusts me enough to let her guard down.

So now’s the time to complete Phase Six.

Of course, the phantoms try to stop me. They freeze my flesh and scream in my skull. But ultimately, they lack any real power over me, because they’re not Protectors. Not anymore.

I try not to look her in the face. Instead, I keep my gaze focused on her chest. And somehow, by limiting my perception, I can almost convince myself she’s not a human being. She’s just a bundle of flesh, no greater than the sum of her parts.

But the illusion won’t give me the strength to proceed.

I need to hear your voice. I need to know you’ll still want me, even after I accomplish my mission.

And then, finally, you say, through my lips, “I’ll always love you.”

And my conviction prevails, overshadowing my mercy once more.

“I’m sorry,” I say, to Milena, to you. To myself.

Then my eyes dart about, out of control, and I’m no longer holding the sacred blade I picked up. This one’s long, thin. Military issue. The same kind the soldiers wielded when they stormed our hut and took you away. And I see your head on Milena’s body.

But right now, I don’t care.

Sometimes I need to do the right thing for love and be a villain.

So I kill Milena. Find the mushroom in her heart. Swallow.

I expect bitterness, because of her past, but her power tastes sweet.

Kind.

Usually, after I devour a soul, the phantoms sob along with me. But I can’t hear them as I mourn all the way to the Fortress.

And at the base of the mountain, I shudder, equally terrified and euphoric.

Very soon, I’ll have the body to save you.

And we’ll be together again, forever.

My courage peaks, and I summon the six mushrooms. And I wait, kneeling on the ground, eyes closed, lips trembling with your name. I feel my body tingling. And in few moments, I’ll become much more of a monster than I already am.

Stronger. Bigger. More grotesque.

I hope you’ll learn to love this nightmare. But even if you don’t, I’ll never let you go.

A heartbeat later, the spirits of the mushrooms rupture, and the energy thrashes my organs from within, and I squeal with the power and the pain.

Then, nothing.

The torture stops, and I don’t change.

I feel like a prisoner taking that first step out of prison.

And maybe I misinterpreted Billy’s messages. Maybe the dragon he showed me symbolizes my delusion. I see a dragon in the stone, the way I see a monster in my mind. Neither of them real. And maybe I’m the monkey in the spider’s web, helpless, unable to conquer the Fortress. And maybe the broken key represents my inability to reach you. Not because you’re trapped in the Fortress, but because you’re dead.

And maybe it wasn’t a coincidence that my mission required six mushrooms and the last stew I cooked for you also required six mushrooms.