Page 163

Story: Pestilence

“Um, a human name.”

I instantly regret mentioning the wordhuman—it’s one of his triggers. But Pestilence doesn’t look repulsed by the idea.

In fact, he seems … intrigued.

He mulls it over for only a second or two before he says, “Alright.”

“Alright?” I echo.

Seriously, it was that easy?

He laughs a little at my surprised expression. “I confess, I have thought on this since we parted ways.”

Last we spoke, he hadn’t believed in personal names. He was Pestilence and Pestilence was who he was. He was his purpose, and that was all anyone needed to know. Sometime during all of those days and weeks we were separated, he changed his mind.

“What would you like to be called?” I ask.

His thumb twists the gold band round and round my finger.

“Victor,” he says, a shadow of a smile creeping along his face.

I raise my eyebrows. I don’t know what I was expecting. It’s not like Victor is any less appropriate that Bill or Joe. It’s just that Victor is really … normal. I wasn’t expecting normal.

Just be happy he didn’t decide on Elmer or Wolfgang.

“Victor,” I repeat, beginning to grin as I stare at him. I like it. A lot. “It’s perfect.”

His smile reaches his eyes.

“What made you choose it?” I ask.

He climbs into bed and takes me into his arms once more. I melt into the delicious heat of him.

This still feels like a dream. Will it ever not? Will I ever wake up one day and not be amazed at the force of nature I fell in love with?

“Victoris not so very different fromconqueror, is it?” he says, ponderously.

I tense at that.

Laughter rumbles deep in his chest.

“Worry naught, dear Sara,” he says. “I am not clinging to my former ways.” He takes my hand and presses it to his heart. The steady beat of it thumps against my palm.

“Rather, I amyourvictor. You see, I came to conquer this land and its people,” he explained, “but instead, one of its people conquered me.”

I know my eyes have gone soft. It’s a good reason—no, agreatreason—one that makes my toes curl.

Pulling his head down to me, I kiss him, my lips making long, languorous work of the task.

Once the kiss ends, I ask, “What happens now?”

“We go away—or we stay and hope the world learns as I have learned. Either way, we do it together—for all the minutes we have left.”

Epilogue

Year 10 of the Horseman

The sun issetting when it happens.