The Book of Love (14 page)

Lucy stopped. She felt a chill run through her. “What are you talking about?”

“Liza’s mom is more messed up than I’ve told you,” Gil said. “More messed up than Liza will admit. Liza’s mom tried to kill herself a couple months ago.” Gil’s voice wavered. “And it wasn’t the first time either. She tries all the time. But it’s like I told you, she’s a Glass Heart. Of course,
Glass Heart
isn’t something any doctor is ever going to understand. No matter how many therapists she sees or pills she takes, it won’t help. The Diamonding Powder is the only thing I’ve ever heard of that could help her. It’s pretty much her only chance.”

Lucy’s head was spinning. She had no idea what to think, what to believe. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“Because you already feel responsible for Tristan. That’s enough.”

“But why are you the one doing this? Why isn’t Liza? Why isn’t Olivia helping?”

“Olivia’s parents are already dead. I can’t even talk to her about this. And Liza?” Gil shook her head. “She’s in complete denial about it. You’ve seen how she gets. But I can’t just sit by and watch my friend’s mother die. Could you? What if it was Tristan’s mom? If she was still alive and he couldn’t face the truth. Wouldn’t you do anything at all to spare him the pain of losing her?” She paused. “We are so, so lucky to get to be who we are. But that doesn’t mean we can just sit by and watch other people suffer. . . .” Gil stopped then. She took a breath. “But that’s only part of why I did what I did.”

“Go on.” Lucy held her breath.

“Lucy, you weren’t the only girl we could have chosen to become one of us. It would have been easy to find someone else. I picked you because I knew you were special from the moment I met you, even before we ever spoke. I picked you because you seemed so kind and sweet, and I hated to imagine you having to suffer heartbreak at all, let alone more than once. I saw you with Alex, the way you looked at him with your soft breakable heart, and I thought, I have to help this girl. She deserves the freedom that I have. She deserves to believe in magic and have that belief proved true.” Gil stopped then and looked Lucy straight in the eye. “And I am so sorry for what I did. But only for the lying
part. Not for the rest of it. And if you can forgive me, I swear I will never, ever lie to you again.”

Gil still held Lucy’s gaze. And Lucy felt her insides softening, the anger draining out of her. Everything Gil said made sense. She couldn’t quite feel it in her heart, but in her ears and in her mind, the truth of it was clear.

“Please, Lucy,” Gil said. She held out her hand.

This was Gil, her friend. Her sister. She’d done a good thing in a less-than-honest way. But in the end, Gil had given Lucy an amazing gift. And she wanted to give an amazing gift to others.

“Okay,” Lucy said quietly. “Okay.” She reached out and took it.

Back inside, the hallway smelled different—like forest and rushing water. And the air felt strange and heavy like it does right before a storm. Before Lucy could process what was going on, Gil was running toward the stairs, cupping her hands around her mouth. “OLIVIA! LIZA! COME DOWN! WE WON!!” she shouted.

And then Lucy saw it—in the center of the room was a trunk made of blue stained glass in every shade from sky to midnight. On the side of the chest was a broken heart in deep bloodred.

Her breath caught in her throat. They’d actually done it. They’d won
.
And because of that, Tristan had won too. And his prize would be a brand-new heart. The suffering she’d caused him would be over so soon now. Lucy felt a prickling behind her eyelids and pressed her hand to her chest.

“Wait!” Olivia came racing down the stairs, eyes wild, hair streaming. She ran to the front door. The rest of them followed.

“Wait!!” she shouted again. She flung the door open and stared out into the night. But all that was there was the moon glowing dully behind clouds, the trees, and the road, which was empty. Olivia stood there, breathing heavily. Then she walked back inside.

“They were here,” Olivia said, her voice quiet. “But they’re gone now.”

Liza was standing in the living room, staring down at the box. “So
what
?” she said. “They left the prizes.” Her lips spread into a satisfied smile, as though somehow she alone was responsible for all of this.

“No, you’re right.” Olivia turned away, then said so quietly Lucy could barely hear her, “I just wanted to ask them something, I guess.” Olivia bent down and ran her hand along the top of the glass chest. There was a gold heart inlaid into each corner.

“Well,” Olivia said. “Let’s open it up, then, shall we?”

She placed one palm over one of the hearts, and the other over her tattoo. Liza followed, and so did Gil.

“Lucy?” Gil said. “We need you for this. . . .” There was a hint of nervousness in her voice, like she wasn’t quite sure what Lucy would do.

Lucy knelt down, then put one hand on the box and the other over her heart. She waited; she breathed in. For a moment she was paralyzed. She felt a jolt of electricity go through her. And then the lock on the box popped open.

A curl of smoke escaped and twisted itself into words:
Careful, now. . . .

Olivia lifted the lid. There in the center of the chest was a book bound in cracked brown leather, the cover embossed with intricate gold swirls.

“
The Book of Love
,” Olivia whispered.

Olivia lifted it out of the box. It was enormous, a foot wide and a foot and a half long and eight or nine inches thick. Her arms shook from the sheer weight of it. She placed it on the table in front of them.

Liza reached out and ran her hand over the cover. “That is so beautiful,” she said.

But while Olivia and Liza were staring at the book, Gil was staring at something else. Right there in a pocket at the side of the box was a small gold vial, shaped like the head of an Egyptian goddess. In place of one eye was a tiny glittering diamond.

“Wow,” Gil said. “That’s just incredible. . . .” She leaned over the book, and all the while she was sliding her hand into the box and curling her fingers around the goddess. She slipped it into her palm, and no one saw but Lucy. Lucy’s heart let out a thud.

Gil looked up and locked eyes with Lucy. She let the side of her mouth curve into a smirk, and then she held one finger up to her lips.
Ssh.

“I wonder what else is in here,” Gil said. She gazed down into the chest as though for the very first time and started pulling out the potions one by one.

There was a small crystal jar filled with brightly colored petals marked
Forget-Me Flowers
; black powder inside a glittery stone box labeled
Destiny Dust
; a little perfume atomizer with a ruby stopper and a tag reading
Déjà View
. And that was just the beginning. By the time the chest was
empty, there were dozens of powders, potions, and elixirs laid out on the floor.

But Olivia was still staring at the book. “Okay,” she whispered. “Here we go.” She lifted the cover and turned to the first page. The paper was thick and rough and slightly yellowed around the edges.
The Book of Love
was written in gold ink. She flipped to the next page, where there was a short paragraph written in black:

We the elite Heartbreakers who have been granted access to this book, the pages of which have been sprinkled with tears and drenched in wisdom, vow to keep what we read here locked within the fortresses of our locked-up hearts.

And below that were dozens of names arranged into columns.

“Hey,” Gil said. “Your granny is on here.” She pointed to
Eleanor de Lune
written out in beautiful swooping script.

Olivia pressed her lips together, then shrugged. She flipped to a page in the middle of the book, and they all leaned over her shoulder and read.

On Breaking the Heart of a Prince

Jane Caldwell, 1882

As Prince Philippe made his way into the ballroom, all the ladies of the court turned to stare, and a dozen cheeks burned with the first blooms of sudden fierce desire. His height, his broad chest, that lavish silver brocade waistcoat, his jet-black hair swept back from his high forehead, he was a rare sight to behold and he knew it. He smiled that day, courteously, modestly even. But I knew his modesty was as much a lie as any of the thousands of others that would soon spill from his marble-carved lips. When our eyes met, his revealed him to be the owner of a cruel and callous heart, a heart that had never been humbled. Well, I thought to myself, we’ll soon fix that. . . .

The entry went on for four more pages, chronicling the Heartbreaker’s courtship with the prince, the tactics she used to woo him and break him, and what she did with his tears when she was done.

Olivia flipped to the next entry—a courtesan’s account of breaking the heart of a wealthy merchant. And then the next—a muse’s account of breaking the famous artist who sculpted her. And so on and so on. The pages were packed with wisdom, spelled out in curling script or scratchy print, in black, gray, and shimmering gold ink. There were scented pages, and pages containing tiny drawings the Heartbreakers had done of their conquests; there were entries that explained the truth behind historical fictions accepted as facts, and the truth behind facts believed to be fiction, as well as recipes for hundreds of potions, powders, elixirs, and charms.

Gil was holding the book now, flipping from page to page, reading the names of some of the entries out loud. “‘Getting Straight to the Heart of Archduke Ferdinand. I Was the One Who Left Charlie Chaplin Speechless. On Bringing an Astronaut Back Down to Earth. Charm for Erasing Yourself from a Memory. Charm for Inserting Yourself into a Memory. How to Cheat a Cheater. On the Eve of . . .’” Gil looked up. “Hey, wait a second. Olivia. This one is by your grandmother. . . .”

“And what did Eleanor have to say for herself?” Olivia said quietly. Her eyelid twitched. The rest of her face remained expressionless.

Gil began to read. “‘I have never regretted my choice, and today of all days, I am especially grateful for my solid unbreakable heart. Earlier this evening I got a call from the hospital telling me that . . .’” Gil stopped and looked up. “Oh,” she said. She pressed her lips together.

“Go on,” said Olivia.

Gil took a breath. “‘I got a call from the hospital telling me that my daughter and son-in-law were killed in an accident. They were driving home from a party, and their car was hit head-on. They died painlessly, instantly, or so I’ve been told. I was never able to protect my daughter—she never wanted me to, even in the ways that I could have. But today our magic protects my heart, now when I need it more than ever. Tomorrow their daughter, Olivia, who will soon be thirteen . . .”

“Okay,” Olivia said. She cleared her throat. “Enough.” She reached out and took the book from Gil’s lap. Then she closed it up, sealing the past inside. “We’re tired and it’s late,” she said. “No more of this now.”

Olivia picked up the book and carried it to the stairs. But before Olivia started to climb, Lucy caught a glimpse of her face twisted into an expression that Lucy had never seen her make before, and could not even begin to understand.

Twenty-One

L
ucy woke up alone. It felt like the middle of the night, but the sun streaming through the sheer curtains told her it was morning, and the clock by the bed read 9:15. She stared across the room at a queen bed, identical to the one she was in. It was empty, perfectly made, as though Gil had never been there at all.

Just a few hours before, they’d finally made their way up to the guest room they usually shared when they both stayed over Olivia’s house. Lucy had assumed she and Gil would have a final chat about everything that had happened, about Shay and the amazing book, and about the
Diamonding Powder and their plans for it. Lucy herself was so confused and so tired she didn’t even know where to begin. But when she got back from brushing her teeth, Gil was already asleep with a tiny diamond peeking out from her clenched fist.

Now Lucy lay in bed going over the events of the past couple of days on her own—the makeover, the trip to SoundWave, seeing Tristan with Phee, meeting Beacon, performing at the festival, finding out Gil had lied and then finding out why. She couldn’t begin to wrap her head around any of it.

Least of all, this: Today was the day she was going to fix Tristan’s heart. She finally could. And she could fix it forever. All the longing and pain and need he’d ever felt would be just a memory. He would be like her, free and unbreakable for the rest of his life.

Lucy sat up, pulled back the curtains, and looked out onto a beautiful fall day. Tristan probably wouldn’t be back from the festival until sometime in the afternoon, and Olivia and Liza wouldn’t be up for hours. And who even knew where Gil was. That was okay. There was no rush now.

Lucy yawned and stretched and padded down the hallway into the grand marble bathroom. She turned the gold faucets and stepped into the marble shower. She heard the door open and through the fogged-up glass saw a figure walk into the bathroom. It was around the size and shape of Gil.