The Host (The Host, #1)

by Stephenie Meyer

“See?” I pointed at the laughing mother. “See how she loves her human child?” At that moment, the woman snatched her son from the swing and squeezed him in a tight embrace, covering his face with kisses. He cooed and flailed — just a baby. Not the miniature adult he would have been if he carried one of my kind. Jared gasped. “The baby is human? How? Why? For how long?”

We were all eager to get back to our dark, crowded haven. Even Jared got careless.

“Wes is dead! He’s dead! The Seeker killed him!”

Even Mel, sneakier than I was, had never dreamed that they’d held me captive just a few paces from the exit.

I was surprised to see the conditions she was kept in. She was not stuffed into the tiny cramped hole, but comparatively free, stomping to and fro across the short width of the tunnel. On the floor, against the flat end of the tunnel, were a mat and a pillow. A plastic tray was tilted at an angle against the wall at about the midpoint of the cave; a few jicama roots lay scattered near it with a soup bowl.

I stared at this relatively humane setup and felt an odd pain in my stomach. Who did we kill? Melanie muttered sullenly. This stung her, too.

No, Wanda, no! Don’t be stupid, Mel. You of all people should see the potential of this choice. Isn’t this what you want? But even as I tried to look at the happy ending, I couldn’t escape the horror of this choice. This was the secret I should die to protect. The information I’d been desperate to keep safe no matter what hideous torture I was put through.

The actual lie had been given to Jared. I’d told him, just seconds later, that I didn’t know how to make myself not exist. In the context of our discussion, it was true. I didn’t know how to fade away, here inside Melanie. But I was surprised I hadn’t heard the obvious lie right then, hadn’t seen in that moment what I was seeing now. Of course I knew how to make myself not exist.

I hadn’t realized that we loved each other. Even if Jared had never asked me for this, even if Jared did not exist . . . Once this path had occurred to me, I would have had to proceed down it. I loved her that much.

The irony made me laugh, and I concentrated on the feel of the air that popped in little bubbles from my chest and up through my throat. Laughter was like a fresh breeze — it cleaned its way through the body, making everything feel good. Did other species have such a simple healer? I couldn’t remember one.

Sharon and Maggie were barely a presence in the caves anymore. They looked past everyone now, the way they used to look past only me.

Doc blinked, processing something. “What do you mean, while you are still here? Are you leaving?” I stared at him, waiting for the realization to hit. He stared back, uncomprehending. “Don’t you realize what I’m giving you?” I whispered. Finally, comprehension slammed home in his expression.

Don’t tell them if you think they won’t allow it. Lie if you have to. But I’d like to be buried by Walt and Wes. Can you do that for me? I won’t take up much space.” I smiled weakly again. No! Melanie was howling. No, no, no, no . . . “No, Wanda,” Doc objected, too, with a shocked expression. “Please, Doc,” I whispered, wincing against the protest in my head, which was getting louder.

Funny that I should quote Kyle of all people twice in one night. “What about Jared and Jamie?” Doc asked in a choked voice. “They’ll have Melanie. They’ll be fine.” “Ian?” Through my teeth. “Better off without me.” Doc shook his head, wiping at his eyes.

My gaze dropped to the floor. “Could be worse,” I mumbled. The strangely jealous hurt I’d been feeling leaked, uninvited, into my voice. “That’s true,” he agreed, his voice subdued. “Why are they so kind to her?” I whispered. “She killed Wes.” “Well, that’s your fault.” I stared up at him, surprised to see the slight curve of his mouth; he was teasing me.

His small smile wavered. “They didn’t want to feel like monsters. Not again. They’re trying to make up for before, only a little too late — and with the wrong soul. I didn’t realize that would . . . hurt your feelings. I would have thought you’d like it better that way.” “I do.” I didn’t want them to hurt anyone. “It’s always better to be kind. I just . . .” I took a deep breath. “I’m glad I know why.”

Jared pulled me to my feet and handed me a hiker’s meal bar — this was the kind of rations they kept with the jeep. We ate, and drank the rest of our water, in silence. Jared’s face was serious and focused.

“I hesitated. I should have started running, but . . . my friend was dying there on the ice. Because of that hesitation, I would have died, too, if the claw beast hadn’t been distracted. I found out later that our guide — I wish I could remember his name! — had attacked the claw beast’s tail, hoping to give us a chance to run. The claw beast’s attack had stirred up enough snow that it was like a blizzard. The lack of visibility would help us escape. He didn’t know it was already too late for Harness Light to run.

Now I looked at Jared for the first time. He was gaping at me, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. It really was one of my best stories. I’d have to get Mel to promise that she’d tell it to Jamie when I was . . .

“Yes, let’s finish this, Wanderer, Lives in the Stars, Rides the Beast. Stealing a few unguarded crates won’t present much of a challenge for you, will it?”

She tried to keep me out, to put the wall in place, but it was too weak from disuse. I saw her plan. I tried to keep my mental tone even.

I knew what this meant. It meant talking to Ian. Others, too, of course, but Ian would have to be one of them. My heart seemed to slump lower in my chest, to curl limply in on itself. I’d done many things I had not wanted to do since joining the humans, but I couldn’t remember any this sharply and pointedly painful.

Telling Ian goodbye was a razor-sharp piercing; it made the greater vision hard to see. I wished there was some way, any way, to save him from the same pain.

Like naming a pit bull Fluffy.

Fuck off

wasn’t the only thing Lacey objected to. “Do you have anywhere better to live than these caves? It’s so dirty here. Isn’t there a house somewhere, maybe? What do you mean we have to share rooms? Chore schedule? I don’t understand. I have to work? I don’t think you understand . . .”

Jeb had been excited, planning to join us on this landmark raid, his first since I’d come to live here. He was particularly keen to see the shuttle field up close. But now, with Kyle putting us all in danger, he felt he had to stay behind just in case. Not getting his way put Jeb in a foul mood.

Hope and despair. I had given them one, Kyle the other. Would he betray them all before they could even make use of the hope? Jared and Jeb wanted to put off the raid until we knew if Kyle was successful — it would take him three days under the best circumstances, if his Jodi still lived in Oregon.

“Look out!” Jeb suddenly shouted. The gun came up in his hands, pointed past us. We whirled toward the danger, and Jared’s tank fell to the floor as he jumped toward the male Healer, who was on his knees on the cot, staring at us in shock. Ian had the presence of mind to hold on to his tank. “Chloroform,” Jared shouted as he tackled the Healer, pinning him back down to the cot. But it was too late. The Healer stared straight at me, his face childlike in his bewilderment. I knew why his eyes were on me — the lantern’s rays danced off both his eyes and mine, making diamond patterns on the wall.

Two trails of blood flowed from his nostrils. “No!” I screamed, lurching to his inert form, knowing it was far too late. “No!”

“I have to go, Sunny, just like you. I have to give my body back, too.” And then, flat and hard from right behind us, Ian’s voice broke the quiet like the crack of a whip. “What?”

“Do you know what she’s planning?” Ian roared. Jared stared at Ian, his face suddenly closed off. He didn’t answer. That was answer enough for Ian. Ian’s fist struck Jared so fast that I missed the blow — I just felt the lurch in his body and saw Jared reel back into the dark hall.

I cringed back, and, abruptly, Ian crumpled forward, falling to his knees, falling into me. He buried his head in my stomach, and his arms locked around my waist. He was shaking, shaking hard, and loud, desperate sobs were breaking out of his chest.

But this long, unbroken kiss finished it, searing and sharp edged — it shoved this new creation, all hissing, into the cold water that made it hard and final. Unbreakable. And I started to cry again, realizing that it must be changing him, too, this man who was kind enough to be a soul but strong as only a human could be.

“I, the soul called Wanderer, love you, human Ian. And that will never change, no matter what I might become.” I worded it carefully, so that there would be no lie in my voice. “If I were a Dolphin or a Bear or a Flower, it wouldn’t matter. I would always love you, always remember you. You will be my only partner.”

“We have to look at the greater good, Jeb. Wanda’s already brought us more health and security than we’ve ever had. She’s vital to the survival of our community — of the entire human race. One person can’t stand in the way of that.” He’s right. Nobody asked you. Jared spoke up. “Wanda, what does Mel say?” Ha, Mel said.

Ian was watching Jared — he didn’t see our silent exchange. “Jeb,” Jared protested. “There’s only one decision here. You know that.” “Is there, kid? Seems to me there’s a whole barrel of ’em.” “That’s Melanie’s body!” “And Wanda’s, too.” Jared choked on his response and had to start over. “You can’t leave Mel trapped in there — it’s like murder, Jeb.”

Jared spoke through his teeth. “So we get her another body. Obviously.” Doc’s crumpled face lifted. Jeb’s white caterpillar eyebrows touched his hairline. Ian’s eyes widened and his lips pursed.

The first part was the pure and unadorned truth, but I was lying wildly through the second. I hoped they wouldn’t hear that. It would help that the words were barely coherent, my tears turned to sobs. I would never hurt them. What had happened to me here was permanent, a part of the very atoms that made up my small body. But maybe, if I gave them a reason to fear me, they would more easily accept what had to be.

Ian flinched around me at the harsh word. And I flinched also, because Jeb was too insightful, as always. They waited for my answer, all but Doc, who knew what the real answer was. The one I wouldn’t give. I tried to say only true things.

Jeb stared at me through narrowed eyes, and I looked away. I tried not to look at Doc, but I couldn’t help one brief glance, to make sure he understood. His eyes locked on mine, clearly miserable, and I knew that he did. As I quickly lowered my gaze, I caught Jared staring at Doc.

“Mandy,” Doc corrected. “She says it’s not exactly right, but it’s close.” “Mandy,” I repeated. Not that I would need to remember. “Where is she?” “With Trudy — that was a good call there. Trudy’s exactly the right person. I think she’s gotten her to sleep.”

“Sorry!” Jared’s arm went around my shoulders, comforting. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” “What are you doing here?” I demanded, still breathless. “Following you. I’ve been following you all night.”

“Stay here, Wanda. With us. With me. I don’t want you to go. Please. I can’t imagine having you gone. I can’t see that. I don’t know how to . . . how to . . .” His voice broke. He was a very good liar. And he must have been very, very sure of me to say those things. I rested against him for a moment, but I could feel the time pulling me away.

No one had ever lied better than Jared lied with his body in my last minutes, and for that I was grateful. I couldn’t take it with me, because I wasn’t going anywhere, but it eased some of the pain of leaving.

Life and love would go on. Even though it would happen without me, the idea brought me joy.

As I took another breath, I saw the three stars again. They were not calling to me; they were letting me go, leaving me to the black universe I had wandered for so many lifetimes. I drifted into the black, and it got brighter and brighter. It wasn’t black at all — it was blue. Warm, vibrant, brilliant blue . . . I floated into it with no fear at all.

So I lied, giving myself an extra year. “I’ll be eighteen.” From the corner of my eye, I saw Melanie and Ian stiffen in surprise. This body looked much younger than her true age, hovering on the edge of seventeen. It was this little deception, this preemptive claiming of my partner, that made me realize I was staying here.

Jamie squeezed my hand. Melanie put hers on top of his, then smiled when Jared added his to the pile. Trudy patted my foot. Geoffrey, Heath, Heidi, Andy, Paige, Brandt, and even Lily were beaming at me. Kyle had shuffled closer, a grin spreading across his face. Sunny’s smile was the smile of a coconspirator. How much No Pain had Doc given me? Everything was glowing.

“Then you will stay.” He kissed me, right in front of everyone, but I forgot the audience quickly. This was easy and right, no division, no confusion, no objection, just Ian and me, the molten rock moving through this new body, melding it into the pact. “I will stay,” I agreed. And my tenth life began.

Perhaps there could be no joy on this planet without an equal weight of pain to balance it out on some unknown scale.