Brightly (Flicker #2) (53 page)

The next few days were a blur.

Nasser slept as much as he could. Sleeping was better. At least, it was easier. When he was awake, he was in pain. In his dreams, he could walk.

For the first time, the house’s memories did not invade his sleep. In Nasser’s dreams, he was winding down the levels of a castle made of crystal, a maze with no center and no exit, just endless passages spiraling down into the dark. He heard voices shouting for him—Jason and Lee, Alice and Filo—but no matter how many corners he turned, no matter how fast he ran, he could never find them. Sometimes, he heard his mother calling his name, always far away, too far to reach, and he felt as if his insides were bleeding. When he was awake, he could never quite recall the sound of her voice.

Usually, he woke because the painkillers had worn off and the agony in his leg had pierced straight through his dreams to jolt him awake. The pain hit him like waves pounding a rock: relentless, eroding.

He could still feel his right leg. The sensation came and went. When it happened, he knew exactly how his leg was positioned, exactly where it was—or, where it was supposed to be. Sometimes, it itched. He kept wanting to bend his knee, to rotate his ankle, but he had no way to satisfy the urge.

Other times, Nasser felt something sharp stabbing into his right foot, like he’d stepped on a nail, or painful cramping in the leg that he no longer had. Sometimes, he felt like his leg was burning. The sensation was so real that it scared him.

It’s not there,
he told himself, again and again.
It’s not there. It’s not there.

But even when he touched the bandaged stump, assuring himself that his leg was really gone and couldn’t possibly hurt anymore, the pain didn’t stop. It came and went on its own terms. He knew it was all in his head, but he had no control over it. He felt like he was losing his mind.

When Nasser’s willpower broke down and he confessed to Amelia that he was feeling pain in a body part that wasn’t there, she adjusted the medication, to no avail. The new mix of pills didn’t help. Nothing did.

“Phantom pain is difficult to treat,” she told him. “It’s different for everyone. What works for one person might have no effect on another. I wish I could do more. The pain should decrease on its own over time.”

That was her way of saying he just had to tough it out.

People wandered in and out: Lee, Jason, Filo, Amelia. Nobody else—at least, not while Nasser was awake. He was on enough painkillers that he could mostly just listen and nod during visits without anyone expecting him to do much else. Sometimes, when he heard footsteps in the hallway, he pretended to be asleep. It wasn’t hard, since he was tired all the time anyway. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He didn’t know what to say.

Amelia was concerned about maintaining the range of motion in his hip. That was how she phrased it. She popped by every two or three hours to make him change position. She made him place a rolled-up towel next to his stump to keep it straight. Sometimes, she made him lie face-down for fifteen or twenty minutes at a time, or crutch slowly across the room, or tap the end of his stump to desensitize it.

Everything seemed pointless to him, not worth the effort. He was consumed by other problems. When they returned to Bridgestone, business would suffer. Jason could feasibly run deliveries alone and Nasser could still brew potions and package spells, but that was only part of their work. So many jobs required two people. So many tasks required two legs. With only one of them able to work normally, how were they going to live?

Still, he did what Amelia asked. The first time he refused, Lee came upstairs and looked at him with such despondency that he found himself promising to work harder. That was easier said than done. Everything was work now.

Because Nasser wasn’t strong enough to manage the stairs yet, Lee brought food to him. She brought her own food, too, and sat beside the bed while he forced himself to eat. She spent a lot of time sitting with him, trying to talk enough for both of them, trying to smile.

It was hard for her. He could see how hard it was. But he couldn’t make it easier, not for her and not for himself.

He wasn’t supposed to be out of bed without another person nearby, so Filo or Jason helped him to the bathroom, per Amelia’s instructions. That was what burned the most.

Today, he really didn’t feel like waiting for someone to show up and help him hobble down the hall. The bedroom door was ajar. The crutches leaned against the wall.

Nasser scooted to the edge of the bed and reached for the crutches. The moment he stood, he felt lightheaded. By the time he reached the door, he was winded. The infection had left him nothing.

The upstairs hallway was empty, and he was deeply grateful for that. Walking down the hall and getting into the bathroom took five minutes.

Leaning the crutches against the wall, Nasser pivoted toward the sink. He gripped the counter with both hands and leaned against it to take some of the weight off his leg while he tried to catch his breath. Without thinking, he looked up and flinched at his reflection.

He was ashen. The only spots of color on his face were the purplish, bruise-like rings around his eyes and the garnet scab on his forehead. His lips were cracked and his jaw was rough with stubble. He didn’t look like himself. He didn’t feel like himself, either.

Nasser moved to shut the door. When he turned, releasing the counter, he wobbled and his good leg gave out. He hit the floor with a gasp of pain.

He lay stunned for a minute, gathering his bearings. At last, he pushed himself upright and slumped against the wall.

He couldn’t stand. He knew he couldn’t. Just sitting up was exhausting. But he had to figure out a way to haul himself upright, because he was not going to piss himself on the bathroom floor. He wasn’t.

Several minutes later, the door swung open the rest of the way, almost hitting him, and there she was.

Nasser hadn’t seen Alice since the day they left for Otherworld. For a moment, he was so glad to see her, so relieved that she was perfectly healthy with no traces of the curse, that he couldn’t breathe.

Alice’s eyes widened. She rushed to him. “What happened?”

“I lost my balance,” he admitted, trying to push himself up straighter.

“Should I get—?”

“No!” he said, too loudly. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

She stiffened at his tone, but she didn’t turn away. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. You don’t need to get anyone else.” He was pleading now, his heart hammering.
I don’t want anyone else to see me like this.
He hoped fervently that she understood, that she wouldn’t make him say it.

“Are you even supposed to be out of bed?”

“If they didn’t want me walking around, they shouldn’t have left the crutches where I could reach them.”

The ghost of a smile touched her mouth, but a moment later, it faltered. “I came upstairs to see you,” she said. “I know I’m awful. I should’ve seen you sooner. The first time I came, you were asleep, and after that…. I just thought you’d be tired, and there were probably people you wanted to see more than me, so I waited, and—”

Nasser frowned. “Why would you think that? I always want to see you. I was so worried about you.”

This time, she smiled for real, though her eyes were shiny. She sat on the floor beside him. “Did you hurt yourself when you fell?”

“No.” He hadn’t landed on his stump, at least. “Just my pride.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

“You could’ve called for someone to give you a hand,” she said. “Nobody minds.”

“I know. I just—” Nasser couldn’t meet her eyes. “I wanted to do one thing myself. Just one thing. You can see how well that turned out.”

She pressed her lips together. “You expect too much of yourself. You always do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You almost
died
. It’s only been a few days. You’re not going be one hundred percent yet.”

“I’m not going to be one hundred percent
ever
.”

The dull edge in his voice made her flinch, and he regretted it instantly. His words were true, though, and he thought they both knew. Nothing would be the same anymore.

“You don’t have to push yourself like this when you’re not ready,” Alice said.

“I’m only—”

Shushing him, Alice laid her hand on his arm. “You took care of us, Nasser, for years. You looked after us when nobody else did. It never should have been up to you, but you did it anyway.” She squeezed his arm gently. “Now you need to let us take care of you.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight:

“Is he coming?” Lee asked quietly, when Jason came downstairs alone. Everyone else was already gathered in the kitchen, but she’d wanted to wait for him.

Jason shook his head grimly. “I didn’t even ask. He’s in a lot of pain.”

“He took his pills, didn’t he?”

“It’s not that kind of pain.”

“Oh.” Lee grimaced. They hadn’t discussed it at length, but she knew that the painkillers didn’t help Nasser’s phantom pain. When it hit, there was nothing he could do but wait for it to recede, and nothing the rest of them could do but leave him alone. It was easier for him that way.

“Whatever Amelia has to say,” Jason said, “we can tell him later.”

Lee nodded and walked with him into the kitchen.

Amelia stood at the head of the table, her hands clasped in front of her. The others were sitting around the table, watching her with varying degrees of nervousness and concern. Lee didn’t blame them. When Amelia herded them all into the kitchen a few minutes ago, saying she had something to discuss with them, nobody knew quite what to make of it.

When Lee and Jason were seated, Amelia took a breath and said, “I’m going to leave in a few days. As soon as I’m certain there’s nothing more I can do here, I’ll return to Seattle and file my official report with the Guild. But before I go, I want you all to understand a few things. In response to recent events, the Guild is making changes. The Summer Court crowned a new king last year, and his ascension has had a ripple effect.”

“What kind of effect?” Davis asked.

“Surely you’ve noticed the extreme weather,” Amelia said. “Both the Summer and Winter Courts are showing off their power. When the monarchs amplify their influence, their subjects tend to become more active. Since last fall, there’s been a major spike in faerie activity requiring Guild attention.”

“Are the fey getting more dangerous?” Henry asked.

“Bolder, more like. The strength of the monarch is the strength of the subject. The power trickles down. Really, though, the changes in the Courts have just been the kick in the pants that the Guild needed to do something they should’ve done years ago.”

“Which is?” Alice asked.

“Increase its presence. We’ve got Guildhalls in Seattle, Portland and Boise, as well as stations in a few other places, but whole swatches of the Northwest are virtually unsupervised, including several large cities. For years, we’ve dispatched Guild members to handle issues as they cropped up. Most of them come out of Seattle, travelling back and forth. It’s impractical. But the Guild has plans to remedy that.”

“How?” Jason scoffed. “By building more Guildhalls in the middle of nowhere?”

“Stations are more likely, at least in the beginning. That means a team assigned to a city, living and working there, establishing a Guild presence. And,” she added, “I wouldn’t call it the middle of nowhere. The Guild’s considering Spokane, Bridgestone, Coeur d’Alene, Billings—”

Filo looked up sharply. “Why those locations?”

“They’re considered problem areas, because of both faerie activity and illegal magic trade. Except for Bridgestone. It’s surrounded by hotspots, but it’s quiet for a city of its size. We hardly hear any reports coming out of Bridgestone. The Guild elders are curious to find out why.” She tilted her head slightly, eyeing Filo. “Where did you say you were from?”

He met her gaze. “I didn’t.”

Amelia just nodded, and then turned to look at the rest of them. “When I report back to the Guild, I’ll be truthful about what I observed here. I have to be. That means there will be an investigation.”

Davis frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Someone from the Guild will be dispatched to Siren Island to study your operation and determine what laws you’ve broken, if any. It might be more than one person. They’ll comb the island. I’m sure they’ll search the house.” Amelia paused, then said, almost delicately, “They will probably take you into custody first, and have you transported to the Seattle Guildhall for questioning.”

“And then what’ll happen?” Henry asked.

“I don’t know.”

“You have to have
some
idea,” Clementine said. “Typically, what happens to people suspected of being illegal practitioners?”

“I have no real experience in that area. I can’t say—”