Page 117 of Heart of the Desert

“I love you,” he promised me through broken sobs. “I love you, and I’m sorry that loving me cost you everything.”

Through the blood bubbling up in my mouth, I managed to gasp final words. “You were worth it.”

Then darkness took me, and I died safe in Erix’s arms.

The soft humming of a lullaby filled my mind. It was familiar, like something from a dream. I opened my eyes to find myself lying in open desert. Rocking my head to the side, I found the humming came from a woman sitting next to me.

She was familiar, but not. I knew instantly who she was.

The desert’s goddess.

I sat up quickly, expecting my head to spin, but it didn’t. In fact, I did not seem to have much physical feeling at all. I looked down at my chest, finding no wound there. I was not wearing the leather vest and bloodied clothes I had fought in. Just a simple tan tunic and loose red pants. The goddess was dressed similarly. Nothing ostentatious or decorative—just soft, undyed linen.

“Am I dead?” I asked.

“Almost,” the desert answered.

Here, her voice was not the overwhelming scream of a thousand angry voices. Instead, it was light and pleasant. It sounded like my mother, although it had none of my mother’s raspiness to it. I frowned at the strange thought.

“Almost dead?” I asked.

“The same way Alyx was between life and death for so long, but now she is free. You will pass into death soon, with nothing stopping you the way Kelvar did with Alyx,” she said, looking at me and smiling.

Her face didn’t shift in and out of focus like it had when I’d seen her in the mist. I hadn’t known who she was then, but now I was sure. It was still hard to describe—otherworldly in its beauty—but I was somehow sure that if she scowled, the expression would be enough to make my blood run cold. Her eyes, though, struck me.

One was silver and the other gold.

“It’s easier to talk to you like this, on the edges of life, when you are not so bound in the physical world, for I do not exist on the same plane you do. And I’ve been eager to speak with you, a true daughter of the desert.”

“Alyx is free now?” There were so many questions I wanted to ask, but I needed to know it had worked. If I had left Erix behind for nothing, I would fight her, goddess or not. “The Heart is healed?”

“Alyx will move on. And my Heart is whole. The gemstone you brought with you? That is still broken, but it was never my true Heart.” She shook her head. The action made her dark hair flow in silky ripples around her head, moving as if she were underwater.

If I had physical sensations, my stomach may have dropped, but instead I just remained with the odd sensation of floating. “Not your Heart?”

“No. You are my Heart. You and Erix—together. Just like Kelvar and Alyx before, and through generations and generations of Champions, all the way to the first lovers to ever cross the desert. The myth of the Desert’s Champion you tell is only half correct—there is always meant to be two, not one.” She sighed and crossed her legs in a gesture that was shockingly human. “The stone that you thought was my Heart? It was a piece of blood glass, made by the first couple to cross the desert, forged from the blood that dripped onto the sand when they married each other at the sea. It was a symbol, but the love they shared was my true Heart.”

I frowned. “Then why did it make you so angry when it broke?”

The desert held out her hands. “My nature is love, but it is also one of duality. The harshness of the desert that provides life to so many creatures also brings death. It’s beautiful, but it’s harsh. And for love to be true, it requires loss. It is to care for something outside yourself so much that you give it the power to break you when it is lost. But it is worth it.”

I thought about how the desert’s wildness was also what brought me peace, and I thought I understood. “Kelvar could not let Alyx go.”

The desert smiled sadly. “Death is part of life, and loss is part of love. To deny those dualities is to deny my very nature. The power Kelvar wielded broke the blood glass, but I lost half of myself when he refused to let go.” The desert rocked forward on her knees and reached out, cupping my face in her hands.

Now, I could feel, and the warm gentleness of her hands was enough to bring tears to my eyes. All the pain and all the sacrifice somehow melted away with her touch. It was the love of a parent—something I had not had in far too long. So long, I hadn’t even desired it anymore until she gave it to me so readily and willingly.

The desert may have been harsh enough to demand my death, but her love was pure and bright.

Dark and light, packed into one. Balanced in a way that made each half stronger.

“And you have done so well, my daughter. You and Erix became the pair of Champions I always dreamed of, and you loved each other fiercely enough to be willing to be shattered by the loss. You have healed me.” She looked into my eyes emphatically. This close, I could see that her silver eye looked just like Erix’s—molten and metallic and bright as the stars. The gold one carried the light of the sun.

“But now you only have half a Heart again,” I said shakily, covering her hands with my own, still reveling in the way they held my face softly, even as sadness coursed through me. “I am soon to pass into death, and Erix will be left behind.”

The desert shook her head and smiled, a healthy dose of mischief working its way into her expression. It was the sly smile of a hyena and the coltish prance of a horse about to bolt. Suddenly, I understood why she was the youngest daughter, maybe not the sagest and wisest, but full of feral passion and recklessness.

It seemed I had inherited a healthy dose of my tendencies from her.