Page 183 of Famine

I don’t bother looking at the crop in question.

“I can’t bring people back from the dead,” he continues. “Not without Death’s help—or God’s.” He reaches out a hand to touch the green stalks near him. “However, Icancontrol the flow of life and death in all things, like this sugarcane.”

I move towards him, picking my way through the shrubs that brush my ankles.

“Did you … do something to me?” I ask.

I don’t know how I know, but I feel like maybe he did. The wound is too healed, and then there was that older man’s reaction back at the house; he looked at me as though I should’ve been dead.

I come right up to Famine, gazing at his face, trying to read his features. At first, he won’t meet my eyes, but when he eventually does, I go still.

He’s looking at me like I’m his one weakness.

“Did you?” I ask again. “Heal me?”

He takes a deep, audible breath as he stares down at me, like he’s drawing the life back into himself. He lets go of his scythe, letting it fall to the earth.

Famine cups my face, searching my gaze. “Yes,” he says simply.

In the next instant, his lips are on mine. The kiss is fierce, almost desperate in its intensity. I kiss him back, even as I let his words sink in.

Famine healed me.

Famine, the horseman who hates humans. Famine, who loves killing and suffering.Heis responsible for me being alive right now.

He places a hand against my cheek, bringing my forehead to his.

“I love you,” he says.

I stare at him for a long moment, my point forgotten.

I love you.

Those words are ringing in my ears. I’m sure I’ve misheard him.

Famine looks just as wide-eyed as I know I must look.

“What?” I breathe.

“I love you, you foolish little flower.”

My heart begins to hammer against my ribcage.

“It’s rather an unfortunate realization,” he says, his breath fanning across my cheeks, “but despite every one of my convictions, I do.”

He loves me.

Helovesme.Me.

Only now is it really starting to sink in.

Famine’s green eyes, which I once found so unnerving, now stare intensely at me.

“I love you,” he repeats. No longer does he seem shocked by those words. That driving certainty that rules him is back.

He leans in to kiss me again.

At the last moment I bring my fingers to his lips. “Wait.”

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