Of Beast and Beauty (44 page)

“I don’t know what I would have done without you.” Tears rise in my

eyes again as I pull her into my arms and hold her tightly. But they’re different tears. Grateful tears I don’t try to hide as I hug her even closer, burying my face in the soft curve of her neck, smelling her Isra smell, reveling in the way her wild hair tickles my cheek.

“Are you …” She pulls away, her new hands cupping my face. Their shape is different, but the way her touch makes me feel is exactly the same—alive and hopeful and happier than I could ever be without her.

“You’re … different. And tears …” Her lips part as she brushes a tear from my cheek with her thumb. “How?”

“The magic of the planet. The desert is alive again, and I’ve changed.

We’ve
changed,” I add in a careful voice, uncertain how Isra will take her transformation.

She only recently became accustomed to seeing her old self. How will she adjust to this body? Will she be able to see the beauty that I see? Or will she be troubled by her scales and new size and feet no longer white and thin but wide and light brown with orange and yellow scales freckling their tops?

“I can feel it.” Isra lifts a hand to her face. Her fingers feather over her forehead and down her cheeks to her throat, farther down, past the strap of her overalls to feel her bare shoulder, gingerly exploring the scales that will shield her skin from the harsh light of the sun, hold in heat during the cold nights, and protect her from other natural dangers of this world.

“I’m like you.”

“No. You’re like you, with a little of me.” I watch her discover her new legs and feet, grateful she doesn’t seem disturbed by what she sees.

“And I’m me, with a little of you,” I say, holding out my hand, letting her see that the chambers that once sheathed my claws have vanished. “We’re something … new.”

She points her feet and flexes them, giving her toes an experimental wiggle. “My shoes would never fit now.”

“You hate shoes anyway,” I say, heart breaking when she looks up at me and laughs her throaty laugh. It’s terrifying to think how close I was to living without that laugh, that smile, all of my sweet, brave, maddening, perfect Isra. I swallow, fighting another wave of emotion as she wraps her arms around my neck.

“I do hate shoes,” she whispers, leaning into me until her forehead touches mine and her heat warms my lips. “Why are you so sad, love?”

“You almost died,” I say, voice breaking. “Maybe you did die. I don’t know. I was so scared. I was …”

“It’s okay.” She presses soft kisses to my cheekbones, the tip of my nose, the skin between my eyes. “That’s part of what makes it real.”

“Makes what real?” I ask, breath coming faster as she kisses the corner of my mouth, making it twitch.

“Love, of course. You’re not stupid, Gem. Don’t pretend to be,” she says, mimicking her queen voice from our time working in the garden so perfectly that I can’t help but smile.

“Yes, I am stupid,” I say, holding her more tightly. “I should have come sooner.”

“You came when you could, and everything is as it should be. The planet is whole again.” She moves closer, angling her head to fit her lips to mine. “That’s all that matters.”

“No, it’s not.” My hands mold to her ribs, holding her away from me.

I need to tell her the truth. I need her to know everything before I can be sure the worst is behind us. “I could have come months ago, but I … Terrible things happened, and …” I moisten my dry lips, and force myself to speak the miserable truth. “My son is dead. And my father. And many of my people. I was too late. At first I hated myself for it, then I hated you, and then I hated the planet and the ancestors and … everything and everyone.

“I started walking into the desert,” I continue, getting the words out as quickly as I can. “I walked until I stopped feeling anything, and then finally … something. I still loved you. Love was there, hidden beneath the suffering. I started back to Yuan, and finally started to hope again, because I was doing what I should have done before. I was coming back to you.”

She smiles a smaller, sadder smile that fades quickly. “I’m sorry about your family,” she says, eyes shining. “So sorry. You were right to hate me.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were,” she says, bowing her head. “I could have done so many things differently, better. And if I had, maybe—”

“So could I. So could most of the people on this planet and all of our ancestors. You did the best you could.”

“Isn’t that what I just said to you?” She lifts her chin, sticking her nose into the air in that way that drives me mad and makes me love her even more because it is so
her
. So Isra. “You should listen to yourself, if you won’t listen to me.”

“I will listen. I will always listen.”

“Me too.” Her forehead wrinkles. “I have so many things to tell you, things I should have told you the night you left, and things that have happened since then that—”

“Do I need to know those things right now?”

She arches a brow as my hands travel up her back, pulling her chest tight to mine. “No.… They can wait,” she says, relaxing into me, fingers teasing at my braid as she looks up. “Assuming you’re going to kiss me.”

“I’m going to kiss you,” I whisper, and then I do. I kiss her and taste a world where miracles can and do happen. I kiss her, and for a moment there is only Isra, my Isra, and she is the loveliest person in the world, no matter what skin she wears.

“We should find Needle.” She pulls away, her breath rushing hot against my lips. “She’ll be scared to death until she knows that we’re all right.”

“That
you’re
all right.”

“
We’re
all right,” Isra corrects. “She likes you. Maybe more than she likes me. She’s been frustrated with me lately.”

“You’re a very frustrating person.”

“You’re one to talk.” She smiles and kisses me on the cheek before jumping to her feet and reaching a hand down to me. I take it and hold tightly as I lead the way back to the gathering stones.

To our right, an imposing mound of rubble and a cloud of lingering dust is all that remains of the city of Yuan. I wonder, for a moment, if the sight makes Isra sad, but when I glance at her, she’s staring out at the newly living desert, a peaceful look on her face. Where the land was once cracked and barren, grass waves in a light breeze, birds sing in trees lush with rain-damp leaves, and night flowers lift pale faces to the darkening sky.

Soon, the stars will come out and Isra and I will sleep beneath them, our first night together in the new world. I will hold her tightly and tell her I love her, last thing before she closes her eyes, and first thing when she wakes in the morning. I will tell her every day for the rest of our lives, and more important, I will show her.

I will show her that loving her is my greatest truth, and the most beautiful thing I have ever known.

IN the beginning was the new world and hope brighter than the stars.

The broken were made whole, the Banished were welcomed home,

and all people—Smooth Skin and Monstrous—were transformed by the planet that loved them.

There were, of course, those who feared the sudden changes in their world, who cursed their new skins and their old enemies, but there were far more who celebrated, who were grateful and eager to live in peace.

In this particular beginning, there were also a girl and a boy whose love had saved the world, and who refused to let the world slip back into darkness. Together they became the king and queen of a new nation, and led their people as wisely as they could. Sometimes that meant leading them into hiding. Sometimes it meant leading them into battle, and when it did, the boy and the girl fought their enemies fiercely. But when the battle was won, they remembered to be merciful, to begin again with love for their enemies as well as their friends.

Love was the gift they gave their world. Love made them happy for many, many years, until it was time for yet another beginning.

On the night their souls slipped away—within moments of each other, surrounded by children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren and the first great-great-grandchild with green eyes like the queen’s—the Summer Star split down the middle, leaving two stars in its place.

One was white and as pale as Queen Isra’s skin when she was a girl, the other a luminous orange like King Gem’s scales when he sat before the fire. They were celebrated and named Beauty and Beast, but none of the king or queen’s people would ever say which star was which. They would only look kindly on the stranger who’d asked and say, “Beauty is wherever you find it, and Beast is there when you need to defend it.”

Centuries passed and cities rose and fell, wars were fought and lives were lost, but every summer, when Beauty and Beast appeared in the night sky, somehow the people remembered to love a little harder, and never again did their planet fall into darkness.

Many heartfelt thanks to everyone who helped in the birthing of this book. To my agent, Ginger Clark; my editors, Michelle Poploff and Rebecca Short; and to the entire team at Delacorte Press, who are amazing at all they do. Thanks to Julie Linker and her daughter, Annabelle, my awesome friends and beta readers. Thanks to my family for their unfailing support and encouragement, and to my husband for bearing with me through my typical drafting angst (you have my fret cycle down to a science now, my love, and always help me through it). Last, but not least, thank you to my readers. Every email and letter means so much. I am honored to have the chance to tell you stories.

STACEY JAY is the author of
Juliet Immortal
and
Romeo Redeemed
and many other books for young adults. She lives in a gently haunted house in California wine country with her husband, their two sons, and her beloved Janome sewing machine. Learn more at staceyjay.com.

IN the beginning was the new world and hope brighter than the stars.

The broken were made whole, the Banished were welcomed home,

and all people—Smooth Skin and Monstrous—were transformed by the planet that loved them.

There were, of course, those who feared the sudden changes in their world, who cursed their new skins and their old enemies, but there were far more who celebrated, who were grateful and eager to live in peace.

In this particular beginning, there were also a girl and a boy whose love had saved the world, and who refused to let the world slip back into darkness. Together they became the king and queen of a new nation, and led their people as wisely as they could. Sometimes that meant leading them into hiding. Sometimes it meant leading them into battle, and when it did, the boy and the girl fought their enemies fiercely. But when the battle was won, they remembered to be merciful, to begin again with love for their enemies as well as their friends.

Love was the gift they gave their world. Love made them happy for many, many years, until it was time for yet another beginning.

On the night their souls slipped away—within moments of each other, surrounded by children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren and the first great-great-grandchild with green eyes like the queen’s—the Summer Star split down the middle, leaving two stars in its place.

One was white and as pale as Queen Isra’s skin when she was a girl, the other a luminous orange like King Gem’s scales when he sat before the fire. They were celebrated and named Beauty and Beast, but none of the king or queen’s people would ever say which star was which. They would only look kindly on the stranger who’d asked and say, “Beauty is wherever you find it, and Beast is there when you need to defend it.”

Centuries passed and cities rose and fell, wars were fought and lives were lost, but every summer, when Beauty and Beast appeared in the night sky, somehow the people remembered to love a little harder, and never again did their planet fall into darkness.

Many heartfelt thanks to everyone who helped in the birthing of this book. To my agent, Ginger Clark; my editors, Michelle Poploff and Rebecca Short; and to the entire team at Delacorte Press, who are amazing at all they do. Thanks to Julie Linker and her daughter, Annabelle, my awesome friends and beta readers. Thanks to my family for their unfailing support and encouragement, and to my husband for bearing with me through my typical drafting angst (you have my fret cycle down to a science now, my love, and always help me through it). Last, but not least, thank you to my readers. Every email and letter means so much. I am honored to have the chance to tell you stories.

STACEY JAY is the author of
Juliet Immortal
and
Romeo Redeemed
and many other books for young adults. She lives in a gently haunted house in California wine country with her husband, their two sons, and her beloved Janome sewing machine. Learn more at staceyjay.com.