Page 31 of Torn

“That wasus. I’m not looking for a savior, I’m looking for a partner.”

He raises his head, mesmerized. Merry scoots closer, the cotton balls of her knees sliding with the rocks of his. At the contact, her joints vibrate, and she hears a sonic boom in her head.

They’d battled together, escaped together. She can’t be prouder, nor more frightened. There’s so much to review, so much to speculate, so much to panic over.

Two members of the illustrious Fate Court had ambushed them. Why? Did they get wind of the legend? From whom? She’s told none of her kindreds.

Only one other soul knows: the one who’d revealed the legend to Merry in the first place. However, Merry trusts that person.

There’s a multitude to figure out. Soon, very soon.

For now, she and her companion need something easier.

“Hey.” She gathers his hands and whispers, “I promised you my real name. It used to be Love.” Her voice waters, but she covers it with a cheery smile. “That’s who I was. That’s what I was supposed to wield.”

Anger makes no reply. He stares at the weave of their fingers, her knuckles folding over his. Is it an illusion, or is his thumb skimming her wrist?

At last, he meets her gaze. “I’m sorry they were blind, Merry.”

Merry gulps, tears prickling the ledges of her eyes. “I’m sorry for you, too.”

She hasn’t told him much, yet he knows. He knows the Court, and he knows what it’s like to be shunned, so he knows enough. The details aren’t necessary, because Anger understands. That’s what his thumb says as it agitates her skin in a profound way.

Abruptly, he pulls away. The violent movement teeters the cable car, as though struck by lightning. They swing, and Anger’s face curdles, astonished by the extremity of the episode.

Merry can’t fathom why. It’s in his nature to move like a typhoon.

Watching his throat convulse, she recalls bits of their talk in her sanctuary, connecting the dots of that moment to this one. That’s when she realizes something else. The first successful Goddess of Love had been in Anger’s class, which means they’d grown up together, trained together, and served the mortal world as comrades. Anger had betrayed the Fate Court in order to protect Love, so say the rumors. He’d gotten banished for her, and not merely because she’d been a friend.

Yet she’d fallen for a mortal instead.

“Love’s the one who hurt you, isn’t she?” Merry asks. “She’s the one who stole your heart?”

When Anger remains hushed, she seeks to bolster him. With a curt nod, she throws back her shoulders. “Well, that ninny doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

“She certainly doesn’t,” Anger mutters after a prolonged pause. “She can’t remember me at all. She lost her memory when she became human. All she knows…all she knows is that she loves a mortal boy, and he loves her in return, but the recollection of how they met has been stripped, replaced by alternate memories.”

Merry’s hand flies to her chest. “So that part of the infamous story is true.”

“Whatever you do right now, do not get sappy.”

“There’s no need to snap at me like that.”

“I’m Anger,” he points out, snapping some more.

“Nice to meet you, Anger,” she taunts. “You know, when you get like this, your eyes remind me of darts.”

“And yours remind me of sparklers.”

Merry crosses her arms, then leans in and gives him a reproachful look. “Sparklers can toast a person, especially if mishandled.”

“I guess that would be a problem, if we were susceptible to temperature.”

“If I light one in your face, you won’t suffer the burn, but you’ll certainly suffer the blistering that comes afterward.”

“Yeah, our skin doesn’t react to heat that way.”

“I’ll make it a reality, then.”

---