There was no hint of anything in David’s eyes—he didn’t really have eyes now—but I thought there was the slightest hint of a smile.

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

“Did you ever read A Wrinkle in Time?” I called out to him now. “You probably did because like every smart kid loves that book, and you were the smartest kid I knew. Do you remember at the end, when Meg saves her little brother by reminding him who he is? Telling him she loves him?”

Still no reaction, but I moved closer, letting the sword drop to my side.

“I don’t know if I believe that can actually work. I’d like to, obviously. And I do love you.”

The glow in David’s eyes didn’t really dim, it couldn’t have, but I could have sworn something flickered across his face.

I kept going. “And Saylor loved you. Not the Oracle you, although it probably started there. But she loved you the person. Even Alexander—” I broke off, wondering if I should mention what we’d discovered, that Alexander was David’s father, but I wasn’t sure it would do any good right now. Instead, I just said, “He tried to save you from this, too. Me, Bee, Ryan . . . we all looked for a way to save you, not because you were an Oracle, but because you’re you.”

By now, I had come close enough that I could almost reach out and touch him, and to my surprise, David rose to his feet, facing me almost uncertainly.

“Just try,” I said, my voice cracking. “Try to remember who you were before all of this. We’ve looked through spell books, and we’ve tried rituals, and none of it has worked. But maybe that’s because we can’t fix this after all. Maybe only you can do that.”

He still didn’t move, but I was sure the light in his eyes was dimmer now, and hope surged in my chest, so sharp it ached.

“David,” I said, reaching out with one hand. It was trembling, but I kept it out there anyway, waiting. Hoping.

Slowly, he raised his own hand. Like the rest of him, it glowed faintly, fingers outlined in light, but when his fingers touched mine, they were warm and solid and . . . normal.

My throat ached, and I moved closer. He was in there, I knew he was. We could fix this, somehow, if we just—

“Harper!”

I turned, startled, to see Blythe behind me, her yellow dress bright in the gloom, Bee right on her heels.

“Blythe?” I asked, confused. How had she gotten here, and why?

David’s hand fell away from mine, and his features twisted into a snarl, eyes glowing so brightly I winced and threw one hand up against the glare.

I could feel magic building, and David lifted his hand again, the one that had just been touching mine. Light lined his fingers as they moved, pointing toward Blythe.

And Bee.

I didn’t think.

I raised the sword and lunged forward.

Chapter 35

SAYLOR HAD trained me in sword fighting, but that had been back when I actually had my powers, and then, I’d been swinging a sword at practice dummies, not someone I loved.

Not David.

But I swung now for all I was worth, even as every muscle in my arms screamed.

I hadn’t been quite fast enough—the bolt of magic still flew from David’s palm, and I heard Blythe cry out from behind me—but I didn’t think he’d hurt her all that badly. He’d barely had any time before I was on him, and then all his concentration was on me, flinging more glowing bolts from his hands, the magic hitting the metal of my sword and throwing up sparks.

“David, please,” I heard myself say in a voice that didn’t sound anything like mine. It was desperate and choked and raspy, and the words seemed to come up from somewhere deep inside me. “Please.”

David’s hands were working almost as fast as my arms, the two of us stalking each other around the cave. “You’ll kill me,” he said, and this time there was less of the echo—less of the Oracle—in his voice, more of just David. “I saw it. I’ve always seen it.”

He threw a particularly strong bolt that had me wincing even as I deflected it, and I was pretty sure I felt something give in my shoulders. I was strong, but not strong enough, not without my powers.

Still, I held my ground. “Not everything you see comes true,” I said to him, sweat and tears stinging my eyes. “David, you know that. You said it yourself, that you see”—I broke off as another jolt reverberated off the sword—“what could happen. This—” Taking a deep breath, I ignored all the pain in my body and said, “It doesn’t have to happen.”

He paused. Not for long, just the space of a heartbeat, and I held my breath, praying.

Blythe was behind me, and while I couldn’t see her, I could sense her presence and could tell when David suddenly remembered she was there, too. But then something in his face changed, and I glanced back to see that Bee had joined Blythe there, both of them staring at me with wide eyes, Blythe’s hands out like she was pleading. “Do it!” she yelled out. “Harper, you have to!”

David lifted his own hand, and there was nothing in his face of the boy I’d loved now. Not one part of him that wasn’t Oracle.

I could feel pressure—magic—building, my ears popping with the force of it, and then David looked right at me with those glowing eyes and said one word: “Choose.”

It was like everything suddenly slowed down. I felt the weight of the sword in my hand, saw the golden light crackling between David’s fingers, and knew that whatever magic he had there, whatever spell he was about to throw at Bee and Blythe, it was strong enough to kill.

So I chose.

It’s harder to drive a sword through someone than you could ever think, and even harder when you love that person. Too hard, almost unbearable, and I felt my own heart shatter as I shoved the blade through his chest.

There was a distant roaring in my ears, and the light faded from David’s eyes, his hands dropping limply to his sides as he hit his knees. When he lifted his head, there was still a lot of golden light in his eyes, but not so much that I couldn’t see some of the blue beneath it. “Harper,” he murmured, and then he slumped to the cave floor, eyes sliding closed.

Everything was still for a moment, and then I felt Bee’s hands on my shoulders, holding me close as Blythe stepped forward, falling to her knees beside David.

Blythe knelt on the rock next to David, his blood staining her yellow dress. The sword in my hands felt like it weighed about a million pounds, and I let it drop with a clatter that echoed through the cave. Tears and sweat were running down my face, and I had never been so tired in all my life. Sinking down, I crouched next to Blythe, and my voice was hoarse when I said, “It’s over. Is that why you came after us? To make sure I’d do it?”

Blythe’s fingers fluttered over David’s wound, and she was shaking her head. “No,” she said, “I mean. Yes. I came to make sure you’d go through with it, that you’d see it was the only way we could . . .”

Trailing off, she looked at David, her own face nearly as pale as his. “This doesn’t feel like we fixed it,” she said at last, and all I could do was nod, biting my lip to keep from sobbing.

“I thought it would,” she said, and her hand finally touched David’s chest, his blood bright against her fingers. “I honestly thought this was the best way.”