Dust (Of Dust and Darkness)

by Devon Ashley

  “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 th
em, 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.

  Jack shakes his head, his cool green eyes fixed on me the whole time. “Don’t even think about it. I get breakfast, lunch, dinner and any snacks I want in between. You get a fistful of seeds in a single day, if you’re lucky. It won’t kill me to miss a meal. You, however…”

  He stops himself from finishing, focusing in on my ribs for a second before catching himself. Then his eyes dart back to my face with guilt. But I know what he was going to say. That unlike him, missing a meal can very well kill me. Ever since I was thrown down this hole, I’ve been wasting away rather drastically.

  He’s right of course, but I can’t take the sadness in his face. My head falls sideways and I notice the pail of water. I sit the canteen on the floor and slowly reach to pull the bucket my way. I’m too weak to lift it, so the bucket scrapes roughly against the rock, water sloshing out in all directions. It takes both arms to lift it towards my lap, and I can’t move it without grunting because I’m literally that weak from muscle loss.

  “Don’t,” Jack says. Just the solemn way he says it is enough to draw my attention. He’s hard to read, almost void of all emotion, but I sense a little sadness in there somewhere. He shakes his head slowly. “Don’t look, Rosalie.”

  I pinch my lips tight. The bucket is already sitting in the hole my legs make in the butterfly sitting position. All I have to do is bend my head. The lantern is close to enough for me to get a really good glimpse of my reflection. I haven’t seen myself since my last shower in the pit, and even then I was skin and bones, slowly wasting away like the others. I have a pretty good idea of what I look like. I can do this. I can look and be okay, because there’s nothing I’ll see that I haven’t already seen on a fellow pixie in some shape or form.

  I fight his hypnotic gaze, so desperate to keep me looking up, and drop my eyes to the bucket. I gasp, my lower jaw unhinging and dropping open. No, it must be an illusion. This can’t be me.

  “No…” I whisper, still in disbelief. My face has completely caved in. My cheeks: gone. The padding that keeps my eye cavities from looking hollowed out: gone. My hairline: receding a little. I think I can see every bone in my face. And the skin on my face and neck look thin; papery, almost.

  “Don’t cry,” he whispers. Even this faerie who doesn’t know me can tell I’m about to break down.

  “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 trying 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 whe
n 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.