25. The Magus

Chapter 25

Eva stands watching the Martians die. She reminds me of a pillar of salt–that's a story Eva had made me read in the before times. It is about a woman who defies God by looking back at burning destruction. For that sin, God transmogrified the woman into a pillar of salt. Salt, at the molecular level, is beautiful. Intricate, hard, complex crystalline fractals. Pure. Fragile. Mesmerizing. Without salt, life has no flavor. Without salt, there is no life at all.

"Eva," I whisper. I watch her watching the corpses of the Martians I just killed. And the boy. He's dead too. Everything is still, except for my pulsing electricity and Eva's electric pulse.

Eva blinks up at me as I take her soft, feminine body into my arms. I cradle her while she blinks at me with brown eyes as large as the universe. They reflect blood, the ocean, and stars. I wish they would reflect me. "Eva," I whisper. "Who is she that looketh forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners? It is you."

She opens her mouth to say something and then she wails, loud as a drill in the skull. Her wail wakes me up. I take off running. I need to get her to a safe, protected spot, away from Martians.

She continues to wail as I run with her through the trees, fast as I can without hurting her. Her wail is the loveliest sound in the universe. It lets me know that she's alive, that she's here.

She smells like citrus and brisk nighttime. I feel so alive.

Eventually, she stops wailing. That has me checking that she's breathing every five seconds as I run. I need to be careful not to crush her. I'm a danger to her, but I'll keep her safe.

Iago calls, but I don't answer. Maybe I'll never answer again.

"Theo," I think Eva says, and I run faster.

"Theo," this time, I'm sure she said it, but I don't think I can run any faster than I am.

I need to get her away from this.

"You need to go back and save Theo!" she rasps.

No, I don't. He's dead, and if he were alive, I wouldn't save him anyway. I'd be the one to kill him. He wrote his execution order the moment he set his eyes on you.

I don't say it out loud because Eva wouldn't be able to hear me with the wind in her ears and the crashing of my footfalls beneath us. I also don't say it because I don't want Eva to be mad at me.

"Theo," she continues to say, to scream, to sob.

I would incinerate his corpse if it were convenient.

By the time I lay Eva in her bed, she is quiet but still very much alive. I clench my fists, remembering how I destroyed the bed in my distress when she ran away. Now, all that remains is a pile of feathers and fabric. She curls into the fetal position, resembling a chick in a filthy nest.

She looks up at me, a scowl on her pretty face. I'm tempted to take my thumbs and push her eyebrows into an expression that doesn't advertise her unhappiness.

"I'm sorry about the bed," I mutter. "I'll get you a new one."

She says nothing to that, only continuing to level her scowling brown eyes at me.

I back away from her. Without taking my eyes off her, I shut the door to the bedchamber so that the outside world cannot get in. I sit down, leaning against the door. We're on the second floor. I won't let Eva out of my sight. There's no way in and no way out but through me.

Iago once said to me, "If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you, it's yours. If it doesn't, it never was."

By Iago's logic, Eva didn't come back to me. Eva never comes back to me. I keep bringing her back to me. I'm not able to set her free. This isn't love. And she isn't mine because she never comes back.

But even if she isn't mine, I'll keep her.