Page 26 of Better in Black
A true warrior, I thought, would have roamed the woods in search of prey, crouched, narrow-eyed, ready to take down anyvampire or wild fey that crossed his path. But I stayed where I was, and I waited for death to emerge from the dark.
A shadow took form. Broad back, bristling with angry fur. A vicious jaw, and eyes like diamonds, shining in the dark. Sharp teeth.
Wolf.
I thought my heart would stop. I fumbled for my dagger, gripped it as the wolf paced into the clearing. I imagined myself lunging forward, stabbing out with the blade, but something held me in place. I was frozen. I could do nothing but clutch my useless weapon as the wolf padded toward me.Ave atque vale,we were taught to say at a warrior’s death. But I was only a child, and no one would say it for me.
I could hear it closing in. I could feel its breath. The light of my rune-stone fell on it, illuminating the beast’s face, its open jaw, its watchful stare.
I saw hunger in its gaze. I saw a darkness darker than the night. And also…strange as it sounds, Jocelyn, I saw beauty. Iadmiredthe wolf—and a wolf it was, not a lycanthrope, but a powerful beast, an animal of fierce grace and glory. And that, above all things, was what kept me frozen in place. When I should have been a warrior, lashing and lunging, I let my dagger fall to the ground.
I cannot kill you, wild creature, though you are the hunter and I the hunted. But are we not kin?
And the wolf—stopped. It must have seen something in me as well. Because it lifted its great head, howled once, and turned away. Noiselessly, it vanished into the shadows between the trees. Trembling, and more than a little surprised to find myself still breathing, I sank to the muddy ground.
That was when I saw the lamplight flicker between the trees. A faerie, I assumed, scenting my fear. But, Jocelyn, it was no monster.It was you. My sister Amatis had told you what I was doing—perhaps to frighten you, perhaps thinking you’d be impressed.
But you have never been easy to alarm, or to impress. You threw on your coat and raced into the forest after me. Even as a child, you knew no fear. Perhaps especially then, before the world showed us both its terrors.
You came out of the shadows between two trees like a ghost or an angel, holding a lamp. Your hair was down, and looked black in the darkness of the forest, though the lamplight turned its edges to gold.
“Luke,” you breathed, and I realized you’d been standing there for some time. “Was that—a wolf?”
I rose to my feet. “Just the regular kind of wolf,” I said. “Not the were kind.”
You frowned, hurrying over to me. You touched my face, my shoulders and arms, with a brisk, nurse-like professionalism, looking me over for injuries.
“I’mfine,” I snapped, full of bravado.
“I thought we agreed neither of us was going to do this stupid rite of passage thing.” You put your hands on your hips. You were wearing your mother’s coat, and it was comically big on you. “Coming out to Brocelind at night, practically daring vampires to eat you? It’s dumb.”
“You think I can’t handle a vampire?”
“I think we could handle anything if we stick together,” you said.
Which, now that I think about it, was extremely diplomatic. And maybe I would have let you stay if you hadn’t kept going.
“You don’t have to pretend, you know,” you said. “It’s okay to be afraid.”
That was it, Jocelyn. The first time I lied to you. “I’m not afraid,” I said. Then I lied again. “I need to do this by myself.” The voice of my heart, the truth-teller, said:Stay with me, keep me company. There’s no one I like being with as much as I like being with you.But that voice was a silent one. “That’s the tradition. That’s the rule. One night alone in the forest. You can’t stay.”
Your face fell. But you did it. You left me alone, and I survived it. The night passed, with me standing with my back to the tree, a dagger in one hand and a witchlight in the other. My hands went numb with cold, and I heardthingsmoving out there in the dark, among the trees. I started to hallucinate in the night’s late watches: deadly fey-things and the pale faces of vampires, and then the sun returned, and I was alive. It was over.
I limped home, following the trail I’d left for myself the night before. I expected my parents and sister to be waiting for me. But my father had gone into Alicante for the day—he hadn’t even waited to see if I’d survived. And my mother was sitting on the porch, with a packed satchel next to her.
When she saw me, she wept. She caught me in her arms, and I stood motionless, stiff and frozen and unresponsive, because I couldn’t believe what she was saying. “Oh, Lucian. I was up all through the night, and I prayed and prayed to Raziel for your safety. I made a vow to him, to the Angel. I promised my life for yours.”
I still didn’t understand. She explained that she’d promised the Angel that if I lived, she would consecrate her life to the Iron Sisters. She would journey to the Adamant Citadel and become one of them: the Angel’s makers of weapons, those who created our seraph blades and steles, those who breathed life intoadamasand steel. Even as she spoke, I could feel her excitement, that she was glad to go, and something inside me seemed to shrivel and die: TheIron Sisters lived lives of total isolation, in a citadel surrounded by fire. They were forbidden contact with other Shadowhunters, especially men.
I would never see my mother again, I knew. This embrace would be our last. My father had gone to Alicante because he could not bear to watch her leave, and Amatis was in her room, sobbing. Alone, I watched my mother walk away, and I blamed myself. I was the one who had chosen to go into the woods, who had forced my mother to make this sacrifice to ensure my safety. Now I am wiser: I know my mother loathed my father and was fleeing from him, not from me or from my sister. But at the time, as a child, all I knew was abandonment. All I knew was that my mother, who I thought had loved me more than anyone in the world, had found it easy enough to leave me in the end.
And I survived it. But nothing was the same after that night in the woods. My mother gone. My father, without her, untethered from us. A better warrior than he was a husband or a father, and after that night, he had little reason to pretend otherwise. The task of raising me fell to my sister Amatis, forced to sacrifice her freedom to obligation. Did she love me less for being the cause? I thought so.
And you, Jocelyn…not gone, not exactly. But there was a sliver of distance between us now. It had been implicit, our togetherness. That your fights were mine and mine yours. That we’d go through our lives as best friends, that we’d go to the Academy together and face that new world side by side. But after that night, the lie I’d told you in the woods echoed in the emptiness between us.You can’t stay.I could feel it, you giving me what I’d claimed to want. Both of us, after that, were a little more alone.
And I survived it.
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