“Well, that’s what happens when your only source of food and water gets dumped on you inside a pitch black hole. Or squished on the floor like Finley likes to do.” I didn’t care that I was coming off rude and sarcastic. He’d been an absolute jerk to me for a couple of days and then pretended I didn’t exist for the rest.
“I guess I deserve that.”
My eyes pinch harder, as if doing so will allow me to see magic flowing off him and prove I was hallucinating this conversation or something. “Again. Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?”
He digs the toe of his shoe into the ground, which is probably tearing the soft material apart. “What they did to you…with your wings…that ain’t right. No one deserves that, no matter what you did. You’re not a flight risk. Not with that metal on your back weighing you down.”
“Jack, is it?” He nods. “Your faerie buddies stole me from my Hollow. Shot a dart right into my neck. I woke up in this hole with broken wings and a number inked on my skin.” I pause to show him the sixty-eight on my wrist. “I was abandoned and starved for four days, dumped into a pit and forced into slavery at the brink of death. Then, ‘cause I had the audacity to run and fight for my freedom, I was tossed into this pit under the care of a jerk that likes to throw what little rations I get at me. What part of any of that seems right to you?”
“What did you do?”
I scowl. “What do you mean, what did I do?” As if this is all my fault or something!
“I mean, what did you do to get thrown into this prison?”
Flabbergasted, I spit, “I didn’t do anything! I was taken!”
“Yeah, all right. I get that. But you all broke the law in some way or another, so what did you do to get yourself imprisoned?”
I’m not sure how long I stare at him, trying to wrap my head around what he just said. I have a feeling my expression is conveying my thoughts because he’s quick to ask, “What?”
“Are you…under the impression that the pixies imprisoned here have done something wrong?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“None of the pixies I met broke any laws. I haven’t broken any laws. We were stolen for no reason other than slave labor! So excuse me if I don’t want to go along with it!”
He’s looking at me funny. “That…doesn’t make sense. We’re all aware this prison exists and what you do here, but we’ve always been told you were criminals. That you were guilty of a crime towards a faerie, and that’s why you’re being punished here and not back in your Hollow.”
I shake my head in disbelief. You’ve got to be flippin’ kidding me! “No, Jack. Do I look like the kind of pixie you’d expect to see in a prison?”
His lips press firmly together and his gaze falls elsewhere. He whispers, “I wonder if my father knows.”
“What?” I snap.
I guess he didn’t mean for me to hear that because he seems to disregard my question. His head bends back to look topside, though for what I can’t figure. “Look, it’s pretty much the end of my shift. You took a long time to wake up from…that…what they did to you.
“Eat that,” he adds, motioning to the soup and bread on the floor before me. I had forgotten. “I don’t think anyone will come to check on you tonight, but if they catch you with the canteen, just tell them I chucked it at you.”
I huff. Sadly, they’ll believe that. They’ll probably even commend him for it.
He picks up the lantern and says, “Sorry, but I’ve got to take the light with me. I wouldn’t want them catching you with it while I’m gone.” I nod slowly, my insides groaning, not looking forward to being in darkness again. “Do you need the light for anything before I go?” I mash my lips together and drop my head, shaking it. I’m suddenly overcome with sadness and I don’t know why.
“Rosalie?” he asks softly, and I slowly lift my head to meet his green gaze, my eyes wide with surprise that he used my name. He steps closer to me, looking like he wants to ask me something important, but falls back on his heels and comes to an abrupt halt. “Goodnight, Rosalie.”
And just like that he ascends, and with him the light I so desperately want.
I sit in darkness for a moment, waiting for my eyes to adjust. You wouldn’t think they’d need to focus when all you see is black, but they do, making you dizzy until they do. First thing I do is unscrew the lid to the canteen. I really should have inspected the soup while I had light, just in case something’s fishy with it. Even though Jack is playing the nice faerie, I just can’t bring myself to trust him. I sniff the soup but can’t really make out the ingredients. The moist heat warms my nostrils, and I realize this is the first warm food I’ve had since I was stolen. I take a small sip but don’t taste anything. It’s thin like water, but I can tell there’s some kind of flavoring in it, it’s just too weak for me to decipher. I take a gulp of what I assume must be some type of broth and set it aside, giving my stomach time to decide if it’s okay with the ingredients.
I grab the bread next and take a deep sniff. Mmm…it’s been so long since I’ve had bread. A smile curls my lips because even my barely-there senses can catch the strong whiff of yeast. I pull a piece free and lay it upon my tongue, allowing my salivary enzymes to break it down as I gently gum it, savoring what little flavor I can taste.
Within minutes I devour the broth and bread. I hate to eat the rest of my seeds, thinking it best to hold off on eating them until later, but you never know who or when someone will show up. I fear they’ll take the cup away if they see it, so I spend the next hour nibbling as I think of my life back home. I wonder if Tin or Mustard decided to court Poppy. I know she’ll jump and squeal with joy the moment one of them decides she’s the one for him. I think it’ll be Mustard. He seems to dote on her more than Tin.
I can’t help but wonder if anyone would have asked me if I were still there. Tracker might have been considering it. He did go out of his way to chase me down and check up on me. I can almost imagine what a life with him would be like, and that it would have been better than spending life alone. My last day in the Hollow was the first time he ever tried to talk to me alone. Did he like me? Is he curious at all about where I went, or does he really think I’m flighty enough to just take off and take the world on all by myself? Though I’m glad he sees me as someone strong and brave enough to do that, my independence all these years may be why no one’s bothered to think twice about my disappearance.
And that saddens me. Did I not open up to anyone enough to make them realize the difference? Not even Poppy? All those years we spent together as close friends and roommates…does she not know me at all?
I’m not sure what time it is when I awake, but I don’t see anything topside to make me believe Jack has come yet. As I rise to sit up, a blood-curdling scream comes roaring out of me.
Oh-my-Mother-Nature! MY WINGS!
Every part of my wings, the cartilage, the veins, the nerves that connect to my spine…I’ve never felt such excruciating pain! Tears rush out and I’m screaming, moaning, and heaving uncontrollably. Anything more than a small breath increases the spinal pain tenfold, so I’m forced to take short, quick breaths, but they’re so jerky it amplifies my pain anyway.
I can’t take it…I can’t take it!
I throw my stomach back on the ground, scraping skin along the jagged pieces of earth, and probably bruising the bones that no longer have any protective padding. My eyes are pinched tight, but I see my eyelids change from black to pink, and hear Jack saying my name as he lands beside me.
“Please,” I beg between gasps, choking on tears, “Please knock me out.”
I don’t wait for his help. Unbearable pain driving my actions, I lift my head off the ground as high as it will go and slam it back on the rock without hesitation. Intense pain radiates from my temple and spreads throughout my head, and all I can do is weakly moan, too exhausted to move anything more.
Frantic, Jack yells, “What are you doing? Stop!”
Drool seeps from the corner of my mouth and all I can think is how much I want to slam my head again. “Please,” I plea with a weak puff of air.
“I’ve got it, I’ve got it.” I hear metal scraping. When his fingers stroke my back I let out a scream I didn’t know I had the lung capacity to give. The adrenaline causes my back to recoil, lifting my head, shoulders, and bent legs off the ground so my body fomrs an awkward U-shape. When it collapses, my head slams hard into the ground again. There’s an intense shot of pain, then my world goes dark.
There’s a warm glow on the other side of my pale red eyelids, bathing my eyes with a soft, rosy pink. My eyes flutter as I awake, shaking loose some of the crust encapsulating them. I groan as the grogginess in my head intensifies, the strain behind my eyes the main source of my discomfort. Surprisingly, Jack sits across the way, leaning back against the wall. His arms are crossed and his head hangs low, so I think he’s nodded off.
My back aches a little, but the extreme shots of pain bursting through my nerves have ceased. I grumble as I lift myself up on my arms. I never want to feel that way again. I like to think I’m tough enough to handle anything Finley’s willing to throw my way, but that…breaking my wings to the point…I just hope my nightmare of no longer having wings doesn’t come true.
I slowly sit myself up to the butterfly position, careful not to nudge my wings against even the slightest of touches. A rush of dizziness hits me as I rise but levels out a moment later. Beside me lay a gray cotton shirt smudged with blood that was protecting my poor head from the rocky floor. I reach up to examine my head and hiss when I find the sensitive cut on my right temple.
Across from me, Jack stirs and bobs his head a few times before waking. It dawns on me that he’s bare-chested, and that the shirt used to protect my injury came straight off his back. I’ll admit the guy is pleasingly fit. His body resembles a few of the pixies back home, who like to work bare-chested under the sun. Jack is just like them, just a little larger all over.
“Sorry,” I say, genuinely meaning it. “I don’t think you’ll be able to clean this.” I toss his shirt towards him.
He crumples it up into a ball and tosses it aside. “That’s alright. Maybe if I walk pass Finley in it it’ll convince him I spent the day beating you.” He gives me a weak smile. “How’s your back now?”
I look left, then right. My wings are too damaged to open, and the clamp denies me that ability anyways, so I can only see the lower tips. It’s enough to make me cringe. The cartilage that lines my wings is broken in multiple places, as are a lot of the veins and crossveins, and the transparent material that holds the veins together is ragged and parched of nutrients. No shimmer anywhere. No magic. My eyes tear at the thought of never taking flight again. How can they possibly recover from this?
My tears cause Jack to jump to his feet and rush over, his eyes strained with concern. “What? Do they still hurt?”
I shake my head and sweep the tears away. “No, it’s not that. It’s just…I don’t see how they can come back from this.”
Jack squats back on his legs and releases a deep breath of air. “I wish I could tell you, Rosalie, but I don’t know either. I’ve never seen a fae with this much damage.
“But do they hurt?” he asks.
I shake my head again. “What did you do to them?” I know he did something while I was passed out.
He pulls a metal container from the satchel and unscrews it, showing me a firm, creamy substance with a hint of medicinal herbs strong enough to burn my nose when I inhale. “It’s a numbing salve that my mother makes. It’s got some stuff in it to help fight inflammation too.” He screws the lid shut again. “Sorry I didn’t get it on you in time. Usually you get twenty-four hours of relief, but I should have known with this much damage you wouldn’t make it.”
“You’ve put that on me before?”
“Yeah. Both days. Finley made me leave the day they broke your wings, but I came back the next morning and put it on you. And again yesterday. I guess it probably wore off at some point in between, but you must have been asleep when it did and didn’t notice. Had I gotten it on you first thing this morning, you probably would have woken up okay.”
My jaw slack, I just stare at him for a moment. Feeding me decent rations and not throwing my food and water at me was one thing, but giving me pain-relief medicine? Finley would kill him if he knew. And I didn’t really know what to say to that. Why’s he risking his neck for me? He doesn’t even know me. And he’s a faerie…they look down on pixies.
“Which reminds me… Be right back.” He takes off and disappears over the ledge but returns a moment later with the same canteen he gave me before. Handing it to me, he says, “Something a little hardier today. Cream of vegetable soup.” I wish my hand wouldn’t snatch it so greedily. “My sister made it.” With a wicked smile, he playfully adds, “She’s as annoying as a little sister can be, but her cooking makes it worth putting up with her.”
Yet another society with a strong family dynamic. What the heck was wrong with my Hollow? What happened to make them raise us the way they do today?
“I’d say tell her thank you, but I’m guessing you’ll keep this to yourself.” Jack makes his way back to the opposite side and gets as comfy as this rock structure will allow. “Wait. This isn’t your lunch you’re giving me every day, is it?” I motion to hand the canteen back, my stomach screaming at my arm for doing so.