He’s always liked cities, so it’s no surprise to find him here, among the glittering stone and steel forest that is New Ketterdam, the sleek, gleaming jewel of Novi Zem; no surprise either that her wandering feet have led her here, something in her lifeline humming in harmony with his, the gold cord of memory linking them, the two ancients alone in the modern world.
“It’ll never really end, will it,” she asks, watching bars of shadow and light pass over his face as they move between skyscrapers, those great shadows rearing up into the sky, dotted with endless points of light to replace the stars, “you and I, the way you take up every bit of space in me until there’s nothing else to want.”
The curve of his mouth flicks in something that might have been a smile, once, three hundred years ago; she watches him shake his head and wants to laugh, wants to cry; he must sense it, because all he says is, “Come home with me, Alina,” and for the first time in a century, she does.
I’ll Say Goodnight But It’s Never Goodbye (S&B, Darklina)
“It’ll never really end, will it,” she asks, watching bars of shadow and light pass over his face as they move between skyscrapers, those great shadows rearing up into the sky, dotted with endless points of light to replace the stars, “you and I, the way you take up every bit of space in me until there’s nothing else to want.”
The curve of his mouth flicks in something that might have been a smile, once, three hundred years ago; she watches him shake his head and wants to laugh, wants to cry; he must sense it, because all he says is, “Come home with me, Alina,” and for the first time in a century, she does.