by Sara Bushway
Honey asked, "You killed him for her?" Dane nodded solemnly. Honey dreaded to ask his next question but couldn't stop himself either. "Are you going to kill me?"
"No," Dane replied. "Never. I would never--will never do it again. And I would never do that to you. I see something in you, something good. You've been good to the boys, good to Ashelynn and me too, even though you don't have to. That goodness is worth saving."
Dane's admission and promise seemed sincere enough to Honey that he found it comforting, but that still begged the question.
"What if Anastasia asks you, either of you, to kill me? What then?"
Ashelynn's eyes met Dane's, and Dane spoke for the both of them. "Then we'll take steps to protect you, whatever it takes."
Honey nodded, wondering what exactly they would do but unsure if he wanted to know. "So," he began, "What now?"
Dane replied, "Now you go back to your room before Anastasia has a reason to ask me to do away with you, and you don't tell anyone what we've talked about tonight, not even the other boys. Ashelynn and I have everything under control."
Again, Honey found himself wondering what that meant but lacked the bravery to ask. He nodded to the two of them and walked past them to the back door.
Back in his room, Honey made his bed, organized his closet, and had started refolding the clothes in his dresser when he heard a voice.
"Hey."
Honey turned and looked around the empty room.
"Hello?"
"Over here," the voice whispered. Honey dropped the shirt he was folding onto the dresser and walked around to the foot of the bed.
"Where?" he asked the disembodied voice.
Several metallic taps drew his attention down to a vent on the wall between the door and the closet. He knelt next to the vent and tapped back a few times.
"Is...is there someone in there?"
"Yeah, doofus. It’s me," Jez whispered through stifled giggles that echoed through the vent. "How are you holding up in there? Got enough socks?"
Honey chuckled and shook his head. He knew that he shared a wall with the twins, but it never occurred to him that they were connected by the vents that circulated the heat from the wood-burning stove throughout the house.
"I’m alright," Honey replied. "Just a little bored, I guess. How’s life on the outside?"
"Normal. Boring," Jez sighed. "I’m sorry that you’re in trouble, but Dane must have told you…"
Honey nodded, forgetting for a moment that Jez couldn’t see his reaction.
"Hello?" Jez asked.
"Oh," Honey said, shaking his head. "Sorry. Yeah, Dane explained it all to me. He also told me about Nixo."
There was a long pause before Jez’s reply.
"Oh. Yeah. Well, you’re nothing like him, you know. He didn’t know how good he had it. You -of all people- understand how bad things can be."
Honey sighed and laid himself down next to the vent, cushioning his head with his arm.
"I…suppose so," he replied. "It’s just…I know that I didn’t have much time or freedom before, but…This isn’t quite what I thought things would be like. I thought Anastasia wanted me to be free."
"And you are," Jez’s voice echoed. "You don’t have to be used and abused all day long. You’re lucky that you only get picked a couple of times a week at best."
Honey stared into the vent. He couldn’t think of a reply that wouldn’t make him sound like an ingrate.
Jez continued, "There’s always good food and clean clothes. We have free reign of the house while she’s not home. That’s got to be nice, right?"
Honey couldn’t take it anymore. His silence felt like a bold-faced lie in his heart.
"Jez," he said, "why doesn’t she want us to read or have hobbies and friends? I mean, Beaumont never bothered with teaching us to read or how to do complex mathem--math--emantics…but he didn’t keep us from it either, as long as we made good money and didn’t give him any lip. He even gave special treatment to the girls who had magic if they used their powers to benefit the House."
"Don’t use magic, Honey," Jez replied. "If you think she doesn’t like you reading, you won’t like how she reacts to you doing magic."
Honey sighed. "Jez, I don’t have magic. I’m not…special. I know that. But I want my freedom. Even Dane seems like a prisoner of this house sometimes. I know that this isn’t as bad as selling flesh, but sometimes it doesn’t feel much better either, you know?" Honey paused for a moment, trying to decide if telling Jez about his fear of being a Nobody was a good idea or not.
"I’m scared. I don’t think I can stay here, Jez. This is a nice house, and I love having nice things. But, when I was out there, I didn’t fear for my life like I do now. I can’t live like this forever."
"Well, you can’t just leave…"
Honey nodded to the vent again. "Yeah, I know. I guess I should let you get to bed. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Honey stood up, closed the drawer he had been organizing, and put himself to bed.
*****
The next morning, Dane knocked on Honey’s door and escorted him to the bathroom, as promised. Honey took his time taking care of his morning ablutions, grateful that he wasn’t still staring at the walls of his room, even if it was only for a short while. When he was finished, Dane was still standing outside the door, calm as ever. Honey both loved and hated that Dane never seemed to complain about anything. It either meant that nothing truly bothered the man or that he felt he could never say anything if it did.
"I’m sorry if I took too long," Honey said. "I really needed a good shower, and—"
"It’s fine," Dane replied. "Take your time. Hygiene is important. Besides, you’ll have plenty of time to admire your room."
Honey nodded and started toward his door. As he approached, he turned and looked up at the older boy. "Will you come inside for a minute? I’d like to talk to you about something."
Dane glanced down the empty hall, then nodded and followed him in. "As long as the door stays closed and we keep the volume of our voices low, we should be fine."
Once inside, Honey turned and looked up at Dane. He couldn’t believe what he was about to say and that he had to say it to someone he had grown to care so deeply about. But it needed to be said. "I want to leave," Honey blurted out. "I mean…I don’t want to, but I feel like I have to."
Dane stared at him for a moment and folded his arms. "You want to leave?"
Honey nodded. "Yes…I mean, no. It’s complicated."
Dane shook his head and sighed. "I’m sorry, Honey, but even if you could leave, you shouldn’t. The world is a harsh place and is especially unkind to people like us. You can have almost anything you want. I even got the papers that you need to become a citizen, but I need more time." His tone softened as he continued, "Don’t make me have to get used to someone else. I like you."
Honey smiled. He couldn’t believe he was arguing against Dane of all people. He looked up to him, idolized him. Dane was the only man Honey had ever known that didn’t see him as an asset. He never asked anything of Honey except to follow the rules, which only made Honey’s heart feel heavier over what he was about to say.
"I like you too, Dane," Honey said, "but I have to follow my heart. And, to my heart, this feels wrong. I am grateful for everything I have, but I want more. I want freedom, and if I can't have that..." He gazed up at Dane pleadingly, tears welling up in his eyes. "I want more, Dane. I want to have a dream, a real dream of really being somebody."
"Honey, you are somebody. You’re the sweetest little guy I know," Dane said. "You don’t need to be any more than that. You survived all of the horrible things you’ve been forced to do—"
Honey shrugged. "Well, some of it wasn’t so forced…"
"And that’s more than commendable. It’s amazing. If you leave, your life will be difficult again, possibly worse than it was under..what’s his face."
"Beaumont," Honey said. "But something being difficul
t shouldn’t stop me from doing things, right? Heroes don't run from tough things. They toughen up."
"Alright," Dane said with a smile. "I'm going to help you because you deserve better than this. Besides, heroes have to come from somewhere, right? And even heroes need help. It's going to take time, and it won't be easy, but I promise you will be free someday."
Honey’s eyes grew wide.
That word…Hero…
*****
Loretta.
Pushing Beaumont and the johns out of his mind hadn’t been too difficult since he had arrived, but Loretta seemed to fade in and out of his thoughts regularly. He realized he couldn’t push her out of his mind, and truthfully, he didn’t want to. It was all he could do to hope she was well and happy enough, as happy as she could be in the House. He wondered if she could feel him thinking about her. Sometimes he thought that she might be thinking about him too when he held her perfume bottle in his hands.
I made a promise to her, and I am going to keep it.
Honey paced his room for a bit before deciding that he could be using his time more wisely. If he wanted to be a hero someday, he needed to be stronger. He couldn't find anything worth lifting, so he did the next best thing. He started doing push-ups on the floor and occasionally stopped to practice some flexibility stretches Loretta had taught him. Even when his muscles began to ache, he kept himself going until there was a knock at the door.
"So, you’re leaving?" Ettie said with a shark-like grin as he stepped into Honey’s room with a dinner tray. "How sad. I like having you around."
Honey swallowed hard and gathered his nerves. "I don’t know what you're talking about."
Ettie chuckled. "Oh, I bet you do," he said, slowly approaching Honey, "but you aren’t...going...anywhere."
Honey swore he heard the tray smack his face before he felt the hit. Dishes flew and scattered across his floor and bedding, sending food flying in every which direction. He grabbed the tray and pulled in an attempt to disarm Ettie, figuring he stood a better chance hand-to-hand against him than against an armed assailant. Ettie pushed and pulled at the tray, laughing maniacally as he tussled with Honey.
"What's the matter, Honey? Never been in a fight before? Well, lesson one: no fight is a fair fight, no matter what!" Ettie swung all of his weight to one side and let go of the tray, sending Honey tumbling to the floor with it in hand. His shoulder hit the corner of the dresser. There was a sharp sting through his back, and then a pain in his hand shocked him again. He lifted his hand and looked at the bleeding cut across the back of it. There on the floor, where his hand had fallen, was the little, green perfume bottle--Loretta's perfume bottle--broken. A chunk of the lip that held the tiny cork in place had broken off and sliced him open.
Honey quickly got to his feet and dropped the tray. There was no time to decide if Ettie was right. If Honey was capable of putting up a fight, Ettie surely deserved it. He lunged at Ettie and pushed him back against the wall. They locked arms, pushing and pulling in different directions as they tried to send the other to the floor. Then, Honey took a calculated risk. He let go of Ettie's arms, cocked his right arm back, and put his weight into what must have been the hardest punch he had ever delivered in his life.
Ettie spun from the force, smacking his bloodied face into the wall behind. He coughed and sputtered, splattering fresh speckles of blood on the wall. Honey was stunned by his own actions. He had never wanted to hurt someone so bad in his life, and even stranger, he did hurt him quite badly. He had only been in minor scrapes with heady johns who got too rough with the girls. That enraged feeling of actually wanting to hurt someone had never crossed his path.
"I—I’m sorry," Honey began, but upon seeing the ferocity in Ettie’s eyes. He knew the fight wasn’t over. Ettie spat a wad of gore into the carpet and came at Honey again. The two tussled for several minutes before Honey mustered the strength to push Ettie back against the door.
"Get out, Ettie," Honey commanded, wiping blood from his lip. "Just get out."
Ettie panted as he leaned back against Honey’s door, desperately trying to catch his breath without choking on his own blood. He spat another stain into Honey’s carpet and grinned at him.
"Come here, you little bitch," he goaded. "I'm going to mess up that pretty face so much. You and Ashelynn will have matching facemasks, you Nobody!"
Honey squared his shoulders and braced himself for another attack, but he never could have prepared himself for what happened next. Ashelynn came barreling past Ettie, knocking him into the dresser and onto the floor to rush Honey. Time seemed to be moving in slow-motion for Honey as Ashelynn came at him, palms out and pushing him back with unexpected strength. In the blink of an eye, Honey was pushed across the room and out the open window.
Chapter Twelve
Honey opened his eyes and looked straight up at the window. The silhouette of Ashelynn against the light of his room was both haunting and comforting. Ashelynn had saved him from whatever horrible fate awaited him but saving him came at a price. This pushed Honey into a journey in which he was ill-prepared. He stood himself up and dusted the loose clippings off of his pants before creeping up to the privacy hedges Dane had planted around the border and slipped through. He made quick work of running through the neighbor's lawns under cover of darkness. Once he passed the last yard, he found himself standing on the sidewalk near a four-way stop. This corner was the first one he would mark when learning how to get to the library on his own. With nowhere to go, he knew that he had to keep moving, and he only had one destination in mind. All of the shops and public buildings were closed. Some were empty and abandoned. Honey considered ducking into one for the night, but he had heard stories about the dangers lurking around the shadows, waiting to attack passers-by and take their money or worse.
It's probably best to play it safe, Honey thought. Even after his bout with Ettie, the idea of fighting anybody else wasn't ideal. Though, he was pretty proud of how he had handled himself. After all of the grief Ettie had put him and the others through, it was nice to see him get his comeuppance.
His mind wandered on about what Ettie had said or done after Ashelynn pushed him out. It didn't take long before his thoughts circled back around to Loretta.
I bet she could have set his pants on fire, he joked. Or, perhaps she could have turned his clothes into the sheep the wool came off of! How silly would that have been!
Truthfully, he wasn't sure about Loretta's magical prowess other than being a skilled healer, but he was positive that she could be as powerful as one of the wizards employed by the state if she wanted to. She was born with the gift, which wasn't common among the laypeople of the land. She never spoke of her family, but Honey often wondered how she got so lucky and how she already knew how to use such powers at such a young age. He could never remember a time when she was unaware of her gift or how to use it. He remembered how much she hated seeing others in pain and detested the feel of bandages against her skin, as though she was offended by wounds that she couldn't heal to completion.
Honey's feet stopped before his mind did, jolting him out of his own thoughts and leaving him feeling a bit hazy. There it was, the library.
"Well, what now..." he thought to himself. The library was closed, as he suspected it would be. He looked around at the buildings nearby, eyeing the few people who were still out. They didn't seem to notice him. He was glad for that because if someone had asked him what he was doing, he honestly didn't know. A sudden streak of fear ran through him as he made eye-contact with a man standing outside of a small bistro sweeping out leaves from between the metal tables outside. He had been seen. If Anastasia came looking for him, she would see him too if he just stood around at the front of the library. He straightened himself and started toward the man. Crossing the street was a nerve-racking experience that Honey felt he would never get used to. Even when there weren't autos on the road, he feared that he would be flattened. It was one of the few things that frightened him about the worl
d outside apart from Beaumont's House. It had gotten easier for him over time as he came and went from the library. He had to cross two streets to get there, and every time he did, he missed Dane's hand wrapped around his like it had been the first time he had brought him. Honey found it strange at the time, but now he wished he had Dane's hand.
He stepped out onto the street and breathed deeply as he crossed the pavement, stepping over the yellow line and breathing a sigh of relief when he stepped up on the curb. The man at the little bistro watched him intermittently as he swept, seemingly with little interest other than that Honey was the only other person around to watch at all. It still amazed Honey that normal people, citizens as Dane called them, paid so little attention to others around them. If he had missed a chance to earn because he didn't notice a john or jane walk in the door, Beaumont would have been furious. Then again, citizens were only beholden to themselves until the government called them to service, and to Honey's understanding, those circumstances were rare.
Honey stopped a few feet short of the man and smiled at him. "I'm sorry to bother you--"
The man stopped sweeping. "It's no bother. What can I do for you?"
Honey paused for a moment. He couldn't explain that he was hiding from someone and that he had nowhere to go, not to someone who could turn him over to the authorities. But he would need a clever ruse to get inside so that he could figure out his next move without being seen.
"I'm waiting for someone," Honey said. "May I wait inside?" He was surprised at how easily that lie had come to him and how comfortable he had become with it in such a short amount of time. Then he realized why; it wasn't a lie. He was either waiting for someone who could help him, or he was waiting to be picked up by Gerig or possibly Dane to be brought back to his lady.