Deathless

by Catherynne M. Valente

Once it grips you by the ear, the real world gets quieter and quieter, until you can hardly hear it at all.

After that, Marya Morevna understood that she belonged to her secret and it belonged to her. They had struck a bloody bargain between them. Keep me and obey me, the secret said to her, for I am your husband and I can destroy you.

But if you must insist on being clever, then be clever. Be brave. Sleep with fists closed and shoot straight.”

“For a while,” said Marya Morevna, “I thought I might like to be a writer. I walked to school in the mornings and read poetry and wondered if I could be like the men and women in the reserved tea shops. If there was a story in me, somewhere deep, sleeping, waiting to wake up.”