Copperback

by Hamilton, Tarah R.

  “Yes. You do. You can return to the surface and leave, pretend that you never saw us…or you can stay, and we will end your life.” The wrinkled lines of his lips hardened with his last words.

  My heart beat hard against my chest. I had so little time to make my own choice, yet Job was certain that he was making the right one for me. I knew in my heart that if I left, I would pine away each day worse than I did for my mother, knowing he was out there, and I couldn’t have him. Eventually, there would be nothing left but an empty hull; a body without a soul. If he ever did find me, there wouldn’t be anything left to love, and it would have given him a false hope that this had been for the best. I couldn’t live, knowing I had done that to him. I couldn’t be without him in my life.

  “Can I have a moment with Job before I decide, since it’s the last time I’ll get to see him?”

  “Yes, but be quick, or we will make the decision for you.”

  I turned around to look at him, as my hand found the necklace – the small penny with a heart shaped hole. It was supposed to be his way of saying I was his, but it was turning into just another thing to remember him by. Part of me wanted to tear it from my neck and toss it on the ground, as a sign of how I felt at being ripped from him. But I couldn’t give into my anger at him right now. Instead, I undid the clasp and held it in my hand. As warm as it had been against my neck, it felt shockingly cool in my sweaty hand. I had made a choice that he was not going to like, and I didn’t know how to soften the blow.

  As I walked up close, I watched how the light touched his face, making it appear angelic. I was never going to have another chance to tell him how I felt. I had put it off too long. Staring longingly at his eyes, I waited for him to turn his attention to me. The anguish was eating at him. He was building up a front so he could hold back how he really felt.

  “I don’t know why you’re doing this.” My tone was harsh to grab his attention.

  “I already told you to go back.” His torment was still there in the background, masked with anger.

  “You know as well as I do there is never going to be a law passed, as long as the Vesper have a say. You know I will never see you again, and I know you’re lying about forgetting me and moving on. I just need to tell you something.”

  His silence spoke for itself. As much as I needed to say the words, he didn’t want to hear them. The guilt of getting caught in the lie was overwhelming, and even without any special ability to feel his deep down emotion, it was obvious by the look on his face.

  “I love you,” I said, without thinking. The words just sprang from my mouth. I loved him so much, and was finally able to tell him. I had no more doubts or questions looming over my head. I wanted everything about him, perfect or flawed. It would be the first – and the last – time I ever fell in love. He completed me in a way I never knew could be possible.

  “I love you, too,” he said, touching my face with his hand. I could feel it shaking. He remained strong, even though I had broken down his façade and forced him to admit that he was having a hard time with this as well. My eyes welled up with tears, afraid of how he would react to my next sentence. I didn’t want to see his face when I said what I needed to say, yet I couldn’t look away. I pulled his hand into mine and put the necklace in it, wrapping the chain around his fingers. He clenched it tight, looking down and then back at me, curious as to why I would give it up. Why was I giving back the small piece of him that he wanted me to hold onto forever?

  “O happy dagger. This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die,” I whispered to him.

  In a split second, the love burning in his eyes turned to horror. He had never finished the book, yet he knew what I said, what was meant. I couldn’t live without him.

  “No. You can’t. I won’t let you. You have to stop. You have to leave.”

  He came alive, frantic with purpose. He grabbed me roughly, as though to pull me from the room. The guards, alerted into action by Job’s agitation, each seized one of his arms, pulling him back, forcing him to release me. I gave him one last look before turning around. I knew if I stared at him too long, it would be harder to let go, and I would give in to his wish. Facing the men of the council, I could hear Job begging behind me. I stepped away, listening to the struggle he was putting up against the two guards. In his rage, he had forgotten the copper would make it impossible for him to shift away from them, giving them a chance to subdue him before he could do anything to stop me. Without having to look back, I knew they had a solid hold on him – preventing him from running forward. His voice kept changing from English to white noise as he pleaded with me, and them, to stop.

  “I’ll take her,” he said. “Please. Don’t let her do this. She – she doesn’t mean it. You have to make her stop.”

  One of the guards called out loudly, and there was a great deal of noise as others came into the room, with the goal of holding Job down.

  “Emily, don’t do this,” he said. “I’ll leave with you. We can go right now. I won’t stay.”

  As much as I believed him and knew he would do it, I couldn’t let him. I turned around to see that there were now four of them holding onto him. They were grasping his arms, trying to yank him back. Fueled by fear, he nearly dragged them across the stone. Job threw one of them off, to become a splash of sand as he hit the floor. The guard was resilient, though, and reformed immediately, picking himself back up and grabbing Job yet again, making him slide back. As strong as Job was, he was no match for their numbers.

  “You’re right, Job,” I said. “You belong here. They need you. And you’re safe. If you leave with me, we will have to run for the rest of our lives. I can’t let you do that.”

  His eyes started to fill with tears of his own. I couldn’t watch anymore. I didn’t want him to see me being executed. I wanted him to leave. I had no choice but to turn away, before I could give in. For once in my life, I had to be strong on my own.

  The council remained distant and unattached. They ignored Job, putting their attention back on me.

  “I made my decision,” I said. “I’m going to stay.”

  Another scream from Job, telling me to stop – this time in hysterics.

  “You know if you stay, you will die,” the man in flip-flops insisted. “Nothing is going to change that.”

  “I know.” I was scared, but I was doing what felt right to me.

  Job gave the last little bit of energy he had left in him to attempt to break free and stop what I was doing. I could hear him strain against the guards, only to be met with stronger resistance – this time taking him to the ground.

  The councilman turned away and spoke with the remaining three, giving them my answer. They talked between themselves for a bit – dragging this out for far too long, in my opinion. I began to think I might reconsider the options and change my mind, but deep down inside, I knew how I felt. I was going to stand firm and take whatever death they decided on.

  Job was still carrying on in the background, but his voice had become less demanding and was growing weaker. I could hear the sobs in his voice as he gave up the battle. Each word he choked on sounded like he was dying inside.

  “Stop – please. I love you. Don’t – don’t do this. I can’t–”

  I was just as choked up, but I refused to turn around and give him reason to fight on. I couldn’t bear to see him this distraught.

  The flip-flop man nodded to the others and turned back to face me, still ignoring Job’s requests. He said something to the guards and I could hear the scuffling noises on the ground as they dragged Job out of the room. It didn’t sound like he was fighting anymore. He had given up. The flip-flop man gave his full attention to me once he knew Job was gone.

  “Why would you give your life up, when you can go home and forget about us?” he asked. His tone was neither lighthearted nor angry. It had just been a simple question that he wanted an answer for.

  “I’m in love with Job,” I said without faltering. I gave him as much e
ye contact as I could, so he knew I was telling the truth. I tried to read his face, but he was still so neutral that I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

  “How can you love someone you hardly know?” the flip-flop man questioned. “Are you sure you are not just in love with the fact that he might need you again?”

  “I just do. I can’t explain how love works. I’m not sure anyone can. If you had asked me a week ago, I would have told you ‘no,’ but now I’m certain. I don’t want him to need me. I only want him to love me.”

  I wasn’t sure if I was giving the right answer. I had no idea what he was looking for, or why.

  He turned back to the other three still shrouded in the darkness, beginning another conversation I was unable to comprehend. Even though the sounds made no sense to me, I could still pick up on the tones of their voices. The flip-flop man sounded as though he was asking questions as the others replied. It sounded as though the three older members were in some sort of agreement, but after they had finished, the other spoke up in a deep, angry voice, asking more questions.

  Even though I couldn’t make out the detail of his form, it was clear by his crossed arms and standoffish poise that he was not happy about something. Everything the others said was answered with an increasingly gruffer tone, until finally he yelled at them and swiftly walked towards me.

  I could feel the fear of my death increasing as he got closer. I knew this would be the end, but there was nothing else I could do but wait for it to come.

  He stopped short of me, within arm’s reach, ready to reach out and snap my neck at any second. I gasped as I looked up at his previously-hidden features. He didn’t need to explain his hatred of my race – his face told his story. It had been mauled by some unimaginable torture he had endured, twisting his mouth and left eye in a tangle of white scars. The anger and disgust burned in his dark brown eyes, lacking compassion.

  He turned away from me and stormed out of the room without explanation, leaving me to stare at the others, wondering what had just occurred, and why I was still alive. The sandaled man had been waiting for the other to exit before returning his attention to me. His demeanor changed again, softening, feeling warmer than it had been before.

  “If you could stay – live here with us, never leave to see the sky or your family again – would you be willing to sacrifice everything for him?”

  “I would.” I didn’t hesitate, even as the question caught me off guard.

  “Even your freedom? You would never be accepted back into your society. You would be banished, like us. Treated like a slave. Is he worth that?”

  Giving up the world for Job was a trade I could make without regret. The glimmer of hope offered in this third choice was uplifting. It was my chance to be with him.

  “Yes.”

  “And would you be willing to take our mark? The mark of a slave?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow in curiosity, his forehead wrinkling up. “It will be with you for the rest of your life.”

  “When can I?” I asked, almost before he finished.

  The chance to stay and live with Job was all I had wanted, and I was being given the opportunity, in spite of everything. He was going to be able to remain safe, with his people, and I could be at his side for as long as I wished.

  “We can be ready in an hour. You can wait with him outside this room while we prepare.” A small smile appeared, giving me hope that he was happy not to have to kill me today.

  “Thank you,” I said, my heart leaping out of my chest.

  “Don’t make us regret our decision,” he said, before I could run out of the room. “Living here is going to be hard. Very few are going to accept you for a long time, if ever. You will be watched closely, and one wrong step may cost you both your lives, in the end.”

  I nodded, taking his warning to heart. I knew I would have to watch everything I did to keep us from being targets.

  “And another thing.” His speech was never-ending. All I wanted was to tell Job everything was going to be alright.

  “Your mother would be proud, Emily.”

  His last words stopped every thought that was in my head. I was taken aback by the notion that he knew my mother. I knew she had worked hard to save as many as possible, but here, in front of me, was a man who was going to spare my life because my mother had helped save his.

  There were no words that could express what her sacrifice meant to both of us. We stood for a moment in silence before I broke away, remembering I had great news to share with someone. I had to find him.

  I bounded back out into the dining hall, ignoring the stares of the Sayners in the room. I couldn’t help it – I was elated about being able to stay with him. Against the far wall of the large cavern, I found him sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up close, hanging his head, crying softly to himself. His hands were holding the necklace, watching it swing back and forth. He was consumed with grief, lost in his own world.

  “Job…can I sit with you?” I asked calmly. I didn’t want to give it away too quickly.

  He was shocked at hearing my voice, yet still refused to look up at me. I placed my hand on his back, but he jerked away, as though my touch was burning him somehow. He was rejecting my comfort under the belief that I was still going through with my plan.

  “What are you doing here?” he snapped.

  “I have to wait. They said they had to prepare, and I should come out with you.”

  “I don’t want you here.”

  “What happened to my tough guy?” I inquired, smiling, trying to get him to at least face me. I knelt down next to him to be at eye level.

  His angry voice shot back at me as his hand tightened on the necklace. “Tough guy? Do you think this is a joke? You just told them you would die because of me, and you want me to just accept it?”

  “You would do the same for me.”

  “That’s different,” he replied, his voice still gruff from the crying jags.

  “I want you to come back in the room with me when they are ready.”

  “So I can watch them kill you? You actually believe I can do that?”

  He finally looked at me, his eyes still wet with tears. He was upset with me and what I was putting him through.

  “No. I want you to come back with me and make sure I don’t pass out when I get branded. I have a feeling it’s going to really hurt.”

  I watched my words sink in. The grief passed, and he stared happily, hopefully, at me – but only for a second. It soon faded, and he was back to being upset again. The tears were gone, but his face was filled with the disgust I had seen too many times before. Something in him was trying not to enjoy this moment like I was. He turned his head away again, looking at the chain still in his hands.

  “I don’t want you to do it,” he said. “I didn’t have a choice, and you do. It’s not worth it.”

  “You are worth it.” I turned his face to mine to make him look at me. His sad eyes kept trying to look away, but I wasn’t letting him. “I love you, and I would do anything to stay with you. A little scar is not going to make a difference. I’ll still be me, and you can have me – unless you’ve changed your mind.” I smiled at him.

  “No. No – I still want you.”

  He was still looking at me, but without being forced. Before I could react, he had his strong arms around me, holding tight, pressing me into him as though letting go would change the outcome yet again. I tried to return the hug, but could only hang on as he stood, lifting me into the air, my feet floating above the ground. I didn’t fight him, even as his hands brushed against my injured head, cradling me against his shoulder. He suddenly remembered the accident from the night before and gently let go, allowing me to lift my head up to see his handsome face shining radiantly with his loving smile. His lips moved in for a kiss that I longed to share with him. Every bit of passion he put into it, I returned, without worrying that we would have to stop and wait before continuing. I could keep the electricity that flowed between us on for a
s long as he was willing. There were not going to be any more interruptions, or gasps of pain, or jealous suitors. We were safe and hidden away, and we had each other.

  22.

  “So, you really want to do this?” Job asked, putting me back on the ground and releasing his hold, watching to see if I would lose my balance from the long, drawn out embrace.

  “Yeah,” I said, staring into his magnificent eyes, his cheeks still stained by tears. “I do.”

  His happiness was faltering again, and worry was taking its place. He began fidgeting, and his eyes kept shifting back and forth between me and the room, making me nervous. “I don’t think I can watch and not…lose control. I don’t want to see you…hurt.”

  As much as I knew that I wanted this more than anything, I hadn’t stopped to think of how he would react. His temper had gotten the best of him on more than one occasion. He had been self-destructive, and then had nearly killed someone. Every time I got hurt because of him, even unintentionally, he would internalize his anger and fall apart, disgusted with himself. He clearly believed this time would be no different.

  “You will not lose control. You will stay with me. You can talk me through it. I need you to help me.”

  The sound of me needing him perked his interest. For so long he had needed my help. He had watched me take care of him through every painful moment for weeks; this was his chance to pay it back, but he was still concerned about his reaction.

  “But what if I–?”

  “You won’t.”

  “But I might–”

  “It’s not going to happen.”

  “But–”

  “That’s it. I’m telling them to just put me out of my misery. I can’t listen to this.” I turned to walk away, never planning on really doing any such thing.

  Before I had traveled more than a few steps, I could feel his hand catch mine, drawing me back into him. I could feel the smooth leather of his jacket against my skin and arms, as his chest pressed against my back. His warmth radiated from under his shirt as he held me close. He snuggled his head on my shoulder, holding his cheek against mine. His arms crossed around my waist, holding my hands. We waited, the anticipation building.