The World That We Knew(89)

She sobbed as she buried him. She was not made to mourn and cry. She was clay and water, a creature called into being in a cellar, so how could it be that she appeared to be a woman in tears? Still, she wept, with Lea beside her, their arms entwined. She continued to cry as she marked the heron’s grave with seven black stones. When she was done, she told Lea to shed her bloody clothes. It was bad fortune to wear another’s death. Ava gave her the blue dress, the one with ten thousand miraculous stitches, sewn in Berlin, in the light of a yellow lamp before the darkness fell. It was close to midnight, and Lea and Julien would have to hurry now.

“You shouldn’t have saved me,” she told Lea. “You should already be on your way.”

Lea had come to realize that she’d had a mother not once, but twice. This had been her mother’s gift and her blessing.

“Do one thing for me before we part,” Ava asked.

“Of course. Anything.”

Ava refused to let this girl commit a sin for her. She must honor her mother and their covenant. “You are commanded to put an end to me. It will not be murder.”

Lea took a step back, her face ashen. “It will be!”

Ava’s arms were bare. It was easy enough to erase a single letter. She lay down in the grassy clearing. When she gazed into the trees she saw how alive they were. She felt her eyes burning. She felt a rush of emotions that were impossible for her to have, and yet there they were, tangled inside of her.

“Do as you were told.”

“My mother didn’t understand,” Lea protested.

“It doesn’t matter. You know what I am. My kind are always destroyed.”

“So are mine!”

“But your life is in the hands of fate. My life is in your hands. And you must take it.”

Lea let out a soft sob when she heard this. For all these years she had been unsure of what she would do, but now that the time had come she knew the answer. Her mother hadn’t told her that not only would Ava love her but she would love Ava in return, and that it would be a blessing, until it was a curse.

“You must do as your mother instructed,” Ava told her.

There was darkness pooling all around them. It was still a good hour to cross the border, but light came early in the mountains, and soon enough the sky would crack open.

“It was meant to be,” Ava urged, her voice gentle. “Do what you must.”

Even though she was water and clay, she was between worlds, more than her maker ever imagined she would be. Perhaps love had done this to her; she ached with love and was torn apart by it. She did not know what was logical, only what love made her do.

“Do it because I love you,” she told the girl. “Because I value your life over mine. I cannot let you carry a sin.”

Lea nodded, ignoring the tears running down her face. It was the end of something. She got down on her knees. She would never be a child again. She could not go back in time and put the pieces together of what had been broken. But it was the beginning of something. “You must close your eyes,” Lea whispered. “You can’t see what I do.”

Ava did so, knowing she was to give up this world. She could hear the wind and the sound of the grass growing. She could hear the ants in the earth and the birds above them. Time passed and Lea was already crossing the border at the Wolf’s Plain, walking out of the forest with Julien. When she turned back, Lea saw everything that had happened in the years since she had been sent away, the door closing in Berlin, the train to Paris, the boy in the hallway, the heron in the trees, the village where snow lasted until April, the bees all around her, Ava.

Birds scattered overhead. Ava let go of all that she was and all she had ever been. She was ready, even if there was no World to Come for her, even if she had no soul. She was willing, but after several hours, she was still in the world. She could hear her own heart beating, a thud that shook her to her core, a sound she had never before heard. Perhaps she was not broken, a monster made of clay. Her pulse beat thickly, sounding in her ears. She was more than she should ever be, made by women to be a woman. But that made her less as well, for there is an ending to all mortal life and all life is damage. The bruise left by the soldier bloomed like a dark flower on her now delicate skin. Her breath came hot and fast. She had thought she would never know why humans fought so hard to stay alive, but now she understood. It was love everlasting. It was the thing that could never be erased. She had been made flesh by Lea’s love for her. She ached and bled and felt tired in her bones.

When she opened her eyes, the word emet was still on her arm.

This is what it was to be human, to be at the will of fate. This is what it felt like to lose a child you loved who had loved you in return. She was awake and brought to life. Being human came to her unbidden, it took hold of her, and changed her. She was helpless against time, the owner of a fragile heart. She felt her pulse and the human blood in her veins. This is what love did. It was a miracle and a sacrifice.

She went to the heron’s grave and lay down beside him. This is what grief was, she understood that now. It was never-ending and you carried it with you. You could not stop it or regret it, you could only keep it close to your heart. She could no longer speak the langauge of birds, or hear the fish in the streams, or speak to the angels, but she could heal the sick and she could find her way even though she was alone. The world was no longer a map, it was the place she walked through. She had no idea whether or not she would still see the angel when she tended to the sick and the broken. Perhaps he would look through the window or walk through the door, or perhaps she would not see him again until she took comfort in his arms. Either way, it was morning and she knew where she was going.