Dust (Of Dust and Darkness) (20 page)

I really hate waking up on this floor. There’s an obvious difference between sleeping and passing out. With sleeping
,
I’m able to move around enough to keep my body from staying in one position too long. With passing out, I’m stuck in that position the entire time and it doesn’t feel good when I awake. I ache all the way to the core of my bones. Surprisingly, my wings, which I expect to be giving off the most excruciating pain ever, are numb of all things. The cartilage that protects the edge of my wings, the veins, a
nd even my spine are oddly pain
free. There’s a little tingling going on, but mostly, my entire wing structure is hardly bothering me.

             
Can shock do this? Am I so far gone my body doesn’t acknowledge pain anymore?

             
I gently apply some pressure to the three areas, and sure enough, I feel very little. With sixty-eight breaks, I should be crying and screaming right now.

             
That’s when I realize there’s something different. It takes me a minute to arrange the thoughts in my head into something cohesive.

             
I just examined my wings…with my eyes!

             
There’s light…from a lantern on the floor….just sitting there…by itself. I look to the top and see no one, hear nothing. But what surprises me even more than the presence of light and a full bucket of water
,
is a large cup filled with food.

             
I lean over and grab the thin wooden container. My eyes bulge when I see that it’s filled to the rim with all sorts of seeds and nuts: wildflower seeds, pumpkin seeds, peanuts, apple seeds, and my all-time favorite, sunflower seeds. This is the most food I’ve received in one sitting since I got here and by far the most variety, so I’m immediately suspicious given my current circumstances. I handle a few pieces but nothing feels weird. Nor do they smell like they’ve been sprayed or coated with anything.

             
I’m at a loss, unsure of what to make of this. My stomach, however, urges me to eat them regardless of a possible negative outcome. Fearfully, I lift a trembling hand and pop a sunflower seed into my mouth. Hey, I figure if I’m going to die of poison, then I’m going to at least savor my favorite flavor before I do. The seed is everything I expect – crunchy and nutty tasting – and nothing I don’t. I figure they’re safe to eat.

             
Part of me – the hungry, growling stomach part – wants me to devour the meal in a single bite. The other part of me wants to savor what could very well be the last meal of my life (
be
cause I’m still suspicious of this generous, abundant meal). I decide to placate both parts, first by shoveling a few handfuls into my mouth, then savoring the rest of the cup slowly. I’m still working my way through the bottom half when I spot Jack coming down.

             
I knew it was too good to be true.

             
I half expect him to tell me he’s glamoured my meal and I’ve been savoring a cup of dried excrement, but I doubt Jack could ever be that cruel – only Finley seems the type so far. For a moment he stands there awkwardly, like he doesn’t know what to do, and his body language leaves me puzzled. I cock my head and squint my eyes, waiting for him to do something other than stare.

             
“You’re awake.” I think he says it more for himself than expect an actual answer from me. Wordlessly, he pulls a soup canteen from the satchel slung across his body from his shoulder to his waist, and holds it out before him. “I didn’t think you’d wake before I left tonight, so I left you the seeds just in case. But I really think you should drink this before the nuts. It’ll be easier on your system.”

             
He passes me the canteen and my hand reaches out to automatically accept.

             
“Are you okay?” he asks. His tone surprises me. It almost seems heartfelt.

             
Despite my suspicion and utter disdain for the faerie species at the moment, I keep my reply civil. “I’ll live. It wasn’t the first time they’ve broken my wings. I doubt it’ll be the last.”

             
He winces and rocks back and forth on his heels, his head falling as it shakes. It’s impossible to make eye contact with his loose waves sweeping the air before his eyes, and I can’t help but wonder what his game is. He clears his throat, grabs a roll out of his satchel and passes it between his hands. My stomach obviously gets the message and growls in protest.
Lovely. Tease me more please
, I think, rolling my eyes. Surprisingly, Jack extends the bread and offers it to me.

             
“Here. You need this more than
I do
.”

             
I mindlessly accept again, watching his facial expressions for a hint of betrayal, but I see nothing. Either he’s very good at deception or he’s actually sincere…which confuses me. Jack went from absolute hatred to completely aloof to shy and compassionate. Something smells and it’s not the corner of the cave where I relieve myself. Not being able to stand it anymore, I ask in an accusatory tone, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

             
“You seem…really thin and malnourished.” His eyes fixate on my bare torso, so I assume he’s focusing in on my ribs. I see for the first time what they look like in the light and what I see breaks my heart. There’s no muscle left between the skin and bones, and just like I felt when I examined myself, the areas between the ribs dip. Self-conscious, I set the bread and canteen down and wrap my arms around my waist.

             
“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. Sad
ly, 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
b
arely-
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.