A Phoenix First Must Burn by Patrice Caldwell

Author:Patrice Caldwell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2020-03-09T16:00:00+00:00

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“How much will regrowing a heart cost?” Etta asked.

“Everything you have, child.” Madame Peaks led Etta to the chaise in her living room. Etta laid across it. Madame Peaks lit incense. Clouds of smoke drifted up and around her head. Flies paused on the windowsill, brown moths froze flat against the windowpane, cinder and smoke rose through the old floorboards like wisps of steam, candle flames stretched into long bars of light.

Mirrors fogged. Liquid boiled in the jars. The walls erupted in flames. Madame Peaks took deep breaths over Etta. “Ashes cannot be remade into flesh.”

“But won’t I die?”

“Your old heart will, but your soul will wait for the new one to bloom.”

“How?”

“The roots always provide.”

Etta was too weak to protest or be afraid.

“But you must promise me something, child.”

“Yes,” Etta replied.

“Never give your heart to another.”

Etta thought of Ms. Mildred. “So I can never fall in love again?”

“No. You can, but hearts are your own to keep. They’re to keep you alive. Give your affection. Give your love. Give your time, but nothing so vital to your own survival. Be careful with giving away parts of yourself before you understand them fully. You’re free of the stars now, so choose wisely in the future. After you know yourself. Love is not supposed to poison your own well.”

Etta nodded.

Madame Peaks hunched over Etta, her breathing turned into a hissing wind. Papers scattered everywhere, glass jars crashed onto the ground, the red globes in the window wobbled, threatening to drop.

Red dust poured out of Etta’s nose and mouth and swirled. Madame Peaks opened the tiny perfume bottle and its contents joined the rest.

The ash hovered above her like a thunderous cloud ready to expel lightning.

Her chest felt empty and hollow.

“Open your mouth, child, quick.”

Etta let her neck drop back and opened her lips like a baby bird ready to receive whatever the woman had. She placed a blue-petaled chicory flower on Etta’s tongue.

“Swallow it whole,” Madame Peaks directed.

A warmth burst through Etta’s chest, and the tiny pulse of a heart drummed.

“You rest now. The new heart will take a day to grow. I’ll watch over you.”

Etta’s eyelids closed at Madame Peaks’s command, and she muttered a promise to her—and to herself: “I’ll never give my heart away again.”

“Rest, child. The cycle of light and dark will begin. You will remember your favorite moment with your beloved and your worst moment. The only way to the light is through the dark.”

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