The Heartless Boy - Working Title
an excerpt

Kiraviya reclined the driver’s seat and settled back, closing his eyes. Once again his thoughts turned towards Alyoshin. He remembered their meeting inside the castle, but although the memory of killing the teenagers almost made him smile, the memory of Alyoshin’s fear made the smile fade. He hadn’t felt anything but a sort of curiosity then; he had been about to sacrifice the boy in the hopes of drawing out his mother, but the reaction of the water had made him pause.

It might have been the instinct that was even now helping him to track Alyoshin down, a feeling that keeping Alyoshin alive might prove beneficial. The youth was essentially useless, but he was company, and even Kiraviya had to admit that sometimes weak company was better than none at all. Still, Alyoshin might have gone too far this time; he was still undecided on the matter of Alyoshin’s life.

Caught up in these thoughts, he drifted into sleep and dreams.

In his dream he was back in the castle he had been born in, though when he looked around it seemed as though there were two castles; the ruins and the castle as it had been originally. Alyoshin was there, shirtless and sitting with his back to one of the walls, his head hanging so his dark hair obscured his face. His hands lay limp in his lap, the strange glow that suffused the ruins glinting off the bracelet around one wrist. It was a gold chain studded with some sort of black gem, but although Kiraviya studied it for a long moment, he couldn’t figure out what it was.

Opposite Alyoshin sat the Avim kid, in almost the same position, though there was nothing around his wrist. Instead a black pearl on a slim silver chain hung against his bare chest, barely visible under his chin and the fall of his hair. Neither of them moved, or even seemed to be breathing.

He started towards Alyoshin first, then hesitated. The Avim kid was right there, seemingly helpless and under some sort of spell. He changed his mind and headed for the Avim kid, reaching for the black pearl necklace.

“Kira.” The voice was slow and slurred, but recognizably Alyoshin’s. Kiraviya looked back, but Alyoshin hadn’t moved, his face still hidden. “Kira, please. Don’t hurt him.”

“He has my heart,” Kiraviya said, startled to hear the pleading tone in his own voice.

“No, he doesn’t.” Alyoshin’s voice took on the same quality it did when he cried, something Kiraviya was all too familiar with. “Oh, please, Kira, he doesn’t have it.”

“Aly, he does.” Kiraviya took a few steps towards Alyoshin, as though being nearer would lend his words strength and truth. “He’s the last one, the last descendant, he has the necklace.”

“Oh, Kira.” Alyoshin’s voice broke with a sob. “It’s not right, it won’t work. You know, you just won’t admit it.”

“Know what?” Kiraviya asked, feeling bewildered.

“You know who really has your heart.”

“He does,” Kiraviya snapped, gesturing to the Avim kid.

“No.” Alyoshin raised his hands, the bracelet around his wrist glimmering as he pressed his hands to his own chest. Blood began to seep out around his fingers. “I’ll give you mine, Kira.”

“I don’t want yours,” Kiraviya said, suddenly afraid. “Keep it, don’t take it out.”

“It hurts.” Alyoshin’s voice cracked again. “But I’ll do it for you. It’s always for you.”

Kiraviya lunged forward, meaning to grab Alyoshin’s hands and take them away from his bloody chest, but no matter how many steps he took, Alyoshin always remained the same distance away. Blood dripped down the youth’s bare chest, running in rivulets over his belly, where the stitches still stood out in stark relief. His fingers had almost disappeared into his flesh, and he cried out suddenly, a noise of such pain that Kiraviya covered his ears with both hands.

“For you,” Alyoshin whispered, and wrenched at his chest. His hands came away dripping blood and in his palms he cradled his own heart. He held it out to Kiraviya, and suddenly Kiraviya found himself standing just in front of the youth.

“I don’t want it, put it back,” he said, trying to back away. This time he found he couldn’t move, and an inexorable pressure forced him to his knees.

“It’s yours,” Alyoshin said. “I want you to have it. I want it to make you happy. It’s the only way I can.”

“Aly, no!” He reached out, fighting against the pressure, and grabbed Alyoshin’s shoulders, pulling him forward and shaking him.

Alyoshin’s head fell back, revealing the tears streaking his face and the agony in his green eyes. Still he held out his bloody cupped hands and the heart within them, beating weakly. “Take it, please,” he said softly.

Kiraviya shook his head hard, but his hands dropped from Alyoshin’s shoulders and closed over the youth’s hands involuntarily. He felt the warmth of Alyoshin’s heart and blood quickly stained his skin. Alyoshin’s body jerked as Kiraviya touched him, his eyes opening wide. He gasped, such a soft sound that Kiraviya barely heard it, and slumped back, his eyes slipping closed as his head fell to one side.

“Aly? Alyoshin?” Kiraviya barely recognized the lost sound in his own voice.

There was no response, even when he reached out with one hand, leaving a bloody mark on Alyoshin’s pale cheek. He found the heart in his other hand, and it gave one last beat before lapsing as silent as its owner.

“I don’t want it!” Kiraviya yelled at him, but Alyoshin only stayed slumped against the wall, silent and still. Kiraviya yelled at him again, hardly aware of what he was saying, while blood ran down his arms and Alyoshin didn’t move.

He bolted upright in the car, all the muscles so tight across his shoulders that for a moment he thought he’d strained something. Bright morning sunlight streamed through the windows, but when he closed his eyes again, all he could see was Alyoshin offering his heart.

“I don’t want it,” Kiraviya muttered, his voice thick and distorted with the remains of sleep, and slammed a hand into the dashboard. It left an impression but the pain woke him up completely.

He got out of the car and leaned against it, cold despite the warm sunshine. He held up a hand, expecting to see blood, but his hand was clean, if trembling slightly. In a way that was worse; he’d had many bad dreams, but none that had affected him so badly. He swallowed hard, and after a moment got back into the car. It had only been a nightmare; he still had to find Alyoshin.