Aurora Soleil's Arc

Chapter 4 of 4

Aurora found the stone at last, buried in a tangle of dark roses on Vivienne's land. She pried it loose from the thorns and held it to the light. It matched the torn page exactly. The charm would be whole now. She could complete the spell, heal her skin, and touch Vivienne without burning her. But she did not set the stone. She stood among the eerie blooms and remembered what Arthur had not said. The charm mended by changing what you were. She was made of sunlight. What if the healing burned that away? She walked to the mansion with the stone closed in her fist. The tall gabled house rose dark against the noon sky, its windows dim. She stopped at the edge of the shadow, where the light ended and Vivienne's world began. "You found it," Vivienne said from inside. She did not step out. She never did. "I found it." Aurora opened her hand. The stone caught the sun. "I can finish the charm. Then I can touch you." "Then do it." Aurora's throat tightened. "The spell changes my skin. I don't know what else it takes. My light might go with it." She looked at her glowing hands. "I don't know if I'd still be me." Vivienne was quiet. In the dark doorway her red eyes held still. "You think I want the light." "Everyone wants the light." "No." The word was flat and certain. "I want you to stay. Burning or not." Aurora stared into the shadow. She had offered real warmth to people before and watched them take only the glow. She had stayed too long with someone who wanted the shine and not the woman. "If the magic leaves," she said, "you'd have a plain woman in a dark house. No sunlight." "I have lived sixty years in the dark," Vivienne said. "I don't need more of it. I need you." Aurora breathed out. The fear did not vanish, but it loosened its grip. She lifted the charm. The jewel inside shifted pink and green, waiting for its last piece. She set the stone into the empty socket. It locked with a small click. Warmth ran up her arm. The charm flared bright, then steadied. She spoke the words Arthur had taught her. The glow around her fingers dimmed, softened, cooled. She pressed her palm to the stone doorframe. It did not scorch. She felt the rough stone, cool and solid, for the first time. But her skin still shone faint pink. Her sunlight had not gone. Only the burn had. She laughed, half in relief. Then she saw her hand. Where the glow had cooled, thin cracks spread across her skin, like a vessel too long emptied. The charm had healed the burn. It had not told her the price. "Aurora," Vivienne said sharply. "Your hands."