Dust (Of Dust and Darkness) (22 page)

             
“I haven’t been down here that long, right? I know I was skinny coming in, but how…how could it be this bad already?”

             
“You’ll turn around, Rosalie. We’ll fatten you back up. I’m just tr
ying to start you slow so your
body can handle processing food again.” With a firm voice, he tells me, “Drink the soup.”

             
Liquid wells behind my eyes, but I fight the release while I remove the bucket from my lap. I don’t hesitate to pick up the canteen and remove the lid, but I do pause to smell the soup. Perhaps too long, because Jack is quick to
tease
, “Still afraid I’m trying to poison you?” He chuckles quietly at that.

             
I snap to attention, deciphering any hidden meaning behind those words. I had thought that initially, having no reason to trust a faerie that kept me hidden and locked away, just to be tortured. I bumble over a few incoherent sounds before finally managing to ask, “How’d you know that?
”

             
His smile spreads across his face. “Because that’s what I’d be thinking if our roles were reversed. But in all seriousness, you’ve been drinking the vegetable broth for two days and you’re still here. I promise I’m not waiting to tease you with the cream of vegetable to do you in.”

             
“Two days? I only had it yesterday, right?”

             
“No,” he answers, crossing his legs and arms. “That first day you were completely out of it, even with the medicine on your back. Maybe you were in shock. I don’t really know. But
I got
you
to take
a few spoonfuls in the end.”

             
“Oh,” I say bluntly, my eyes shamefully turning away. Was this really the same faerie I hated a week ago? Throwing food and buckets and lanterns recklessly down my hole? If what he’s saying is true, he’s been incredibly kind these past several days. I wish he could have stopped the breakage, but I can tell he’s completely outranked by Finley. Soon enough Finley will realize Jack’s not trying to break me…then
Finley
might just break
him
.

             
“I don’t want you to take this as a complaint or anything,” I say cautiously, watching his eyes lift at my words, “but after you spent the first couple of days throwing crap at me…” I pause, watching him cringe with guilt I wasn’t trying to embed, “you hid out up there without making contact. Just kept to yourself and brought my rations when you knew I was asleep.” I shrug and sway my head. “What changed? You’re feeding me and giving me medicine.  Not that I’m complaining, but you’re doing the complete opposite of what Finley wants.”

             
“Well, Finley’s a jerk. He can punish me and make me stay here to watch over you, but nothing he says or threatens is going to get me to hit a
female
. And a tiny one at that. No offense.”

             
“None taken. In my defense, I was a decent-sized pixie before I came to this hell-hole.”

             
“You mean…” He bounces his arms out wide from his body. “Plump?”

             
Laughing, I answer, “No, not plump. Let’s just say…curvy.”

             
The smile fades from my lips and I feel a daze in my head try to pull me under its spell.

             
“What?” Jack
questions
.

             
“It’s just…I think that was the first time I’ve laughed since I was taken.”

             
The light-heartedness fades from his features as well, my words bringing us back to the reality of our situation. He slowly stands and the inside of my head moans. I ruined it. For the first time in a long time, I was beginning to enjoy myself. I got to converse with someone actually willing to converse back. And I blew it.

             
My heart aches as
his wings shake and prepare
for flight. “Drink, Rosalie. I’ve got part of a banana up top I want to get for you. It was the most fattening fruit I could find in our home. We’ve got a long way to go to get your
curves
back.” He smiles, lifting his eyebrows, but it all seems a little forced this time.

“Oh, finally!” I’d been awake for awhile, unable to fall back asleep.
Flippin’ rock floor.
I have no sense of time down here, especially when Jack’s not around. My body swells with sweet relief watching him descend towards me, bathed in glorious light. I rock my body a few times to build momentum, then climb my way up the wall and
on
my feet.
             

             
Jack lands fast, thumping his feet harshly against the rocky floor. “What are you doing?”

             
“I can’t take it anymore. My muscles constantly ache
,” I whine. “I
have to use them before they completely waste away.”

             
“Stop. At least let me check your feet first.”

             
“What?” I’m at a complete loss when he picks up my right foot to examine my sole. The weight of my body shifts to my left and I can’t support myself. I tumble
forward
onto Jack and my weakened leg shakes wildly. “Jack!”

             
He rubs the padding of my feet before he allows it to drop. “Let me see the other.”

             
“Jack,” I whine, but obey his request the moment I feel he’s reaching for my left foot regardless. Both my forearms rest over his hunched back. The sparkly glimmer coursing through the veins of his wings hypnotizes me with envy. His magic glitters the softest blue. How I long to see the shimmer of yellow that shines off mine. I pray I’ll get to see it again.

             
His hand scrapes against the rough, dead skin on my heel and I moan
from
embarrassment. My poor body is absolutely disgusting right now, parched of the necessary nutrients to quench my body’s thirst, and the thought of someone examining even a small part of it is humiliating.

             
“Alright.” He lets go of my foot. My hands slide down his back, over the curvature of his bicep and latch onto his arm as he stands.  “Looks like the salve’s gotten your cuts to close over. They’re still
pink though,
so you may feel it pinch if you walk on it. Do you want me to numb your feet first?”

             
“You’ve been putting the salve on my feet?”

             
“And your forehead. Don’t you remember slamming your head against the ground?”

             
“No.” I cock my eyebrows when I add, “But I remember the broken glass from the lantern cutting up my body while I searched for scraps in the darkness.”

             
His cheeks flush and his lips press tightly into a thin line.

             
Speaking of…I don’t recall cutting myself these past few days. I search the ground with my eyes but nothing on the ground catches and reflects the light.

             
“I picked everything up a few days ago,” he glumly explains. His soft mossy eyes look down to me. “Sorry about that. I feel really bad.”

             
I sigh,
closing my eyes and shaking my head,
completely annoyed with myself for saying that. I know it’s true. He knows it’s true. But he’s more than made up for it these past few days. “No, I’m sorry. I guess I’m still harboring a little resentment.”

             
He nods in agreement. “Rightfully so. Do you want me to help you walk around?”

             
“Nah. It’s not like I can go that far. I’m surrounded by rock in every direction.”

             
“And it’s been
ever
so thoughtful to catch you multiple times before,” he adds snarkily, blowing a puff of air at the cut on my forehead. I huff, and feel the slightest tickle in my abdomen.

             
I release his arm and transfer my balance to the wall of my prison. I won’t lie; just standing there is close to killing me. I grimace with the first step, a wave of stings
snaking up and
attacking the muscle in my leg. Jack looks ready to attack me, the way his body jerks when I scowl with each advancing step. The first trip around the cell is incredibly painful, but the second is better, my muscles adjusting to the weight and beginning to lengthen. Jack simply stands in the center, rotating to follow my every move, ready to jump like a nervous tick.

             
“Don’t you think that’s far enough for your first attempt?”

             
Huffing, I throw him a questionable glare. “
Attempt
means failure and
that’s
not in my vocabulary.”

             
“So I’m beginning to see,” he mutters, crossing his arms, returning the playful glare.

             
“Jack,” I say, unsure of whether or not I should proceed with the question that’s been in my head all night…and probably the source of my insomnia.

             
“Yeah?”

             
I turn myself in the opposite direction. I think I’m trying to avoid his gaze, but with him holding steady in the center, I’m hard bent to avoid it. My heart beats a little faster when I finally find the courage to ask, “Do you ever see the other pixies when you’re here?”

             
I see him shift out of the corner of my eye. “No.” I moan my heartache in silence. “Since you told me that none of you were charged with a crime, I’ve actually taken various routes through the prison out of curiosity, but I’ve never seen anyone.”

             
“We work sunrise to sunset, so they’d be in the cave during that time.”

             
“I’m here before sunrise.”

             
My surprise actually stops me in my tracks. “Really? Finley requires you work
that early
?”

             
“No.” He must take my lack of movement as exhaustion because he takes a few steps towards me and leans his back against the wall, arms still crossed, blocking any advancement I could make. “But these days I find it hard to sleep well.”

             
“Me too.” I decide to sit and give my legs the break they deserve, suddenly feeling very tired.  “If you’re flying over, you won’t see them. The pit we’re kept in is glamoured.”

             
“A glamour within a glamour? That’s weird.” He joins me on the floor, keeping his eyes forward like me.

             
“Not if you don’t realize your prison is a glamour to begin with. For the longest time I thought the desolate wasteland was real. Like a fire had taken it at one time and the forest never recovered.”

             
“I suppose that makes sense.” Jack removes a roll of bread from his satchel and hands it to me.
His sister must really love bread to make it fresh every day.
“How’d you figure out it was a glamour?”

             
“The ripples in the barrier,” I say between nibbles. “Once I saw them in the illusion covering our pit, I began to wonder if the edge of our so-called wasteland had one too. It didn’t make sense to see life flourishing across the canyon and nothing where we were. No birds, no plants. Not even the wind broke through. It just didn’t make sense.”

             
“There were ripples? The mushroom powder in the dust should’ve prevented that. I mean, that’s what it’s used for. Illusions.”

             
“Oh, my Mother Nature,” I
mumble
, bending my head and banging my free
palm against my forehead. “No. T
hey didn’t.”