by J. B. North
To get through the crowd, I tucked the plant into the folds of my dress, hoping that they wouldn't see it. Some of the natives gave me suspicious looks, but thankfully, didn't stop me. It was probably common knowledge by now that I was here.
Once I reached the healer's house, I sprung up the steps and inside. The healer was there, sitting next to Roland and reading a book.
He looked up at me when I ran in, his eyebrows raised. “You've been gone for more than an hour. I'd thought you'd run away.”
I shook my head, trying to catch my breath. “I, uh...just thought I'd go for a walk.”
The healer didn't look convinced, and his silence made it obvious that he wasn't. He closed his book with one hand and stood up. “I don't trust your words, but I get the feeling that I can trust your motive. If he happens to wake up, I know you'll want to speak with him in private.”
I wondered if his choice of words was incidental. 'Motive' was the same word that was used before the searing pain in my heart. I nodded gratefully.
The healer brushed past me. Only when I heard the door shut behind me did I go to Roland's side. I could feel the heat radiating off of him. His fever was back.
I shook his shoulder gently. “Roland?” I asked softly.
Relief flooded me when his eyes cracked open.
I smiled, bringing the plant out of the folds of my dress. “I brought you something.”
He tried to sit up. “Don't,” I said, laying my hand lightly on his burning forehead. I knew his strength was limited.
I laid the plant in his palm. He gazed at the flowers in wonder. “It's beautiful,” he said weakly. “I was hoping that I'd be able to see it before I die.”
I knitted my eyebrows. “What do you mean 'before you die'? You aren't going to die anymore. I brought you the plant. The headmaster said that the elixir is in the stem, so all you have to do is chew on it.”
Roland shook his head. “No. I didn't want you to get the plant for me. It is meant for you.”
Anger began to gnaw at my insides. “Roland, you have to take it. The only reason I got it was because of you.”
“I know,” he said, his voice sounding slightly guilty. “That's the only way you can get it.”
My eyesight began to blur as my anger wrung out into sorrow. “Please, Roland. I don't want you to die,” I begged, clutching his hand.
He shook his head once again, set on his decision. “I've seen what is to come in the next life. Do you honestly think that I would want to live in this world forever? Ivy, for those who believe, there is no death. Instead, there is a door to forever. A forever without anguish, without worry, without fear.
“And I am going to live in that forever.”
He took my hand and pressed the plant into it. “Just do me one favor...” he said, a shuddering breath escaping his lips. “Tell my family that same thing.”
I nodded as tears streamed down my cheeks freely. “Of course.”
He smiled as he looked away, his eyes traveling to the ceiling. As I watched, his expression turned into one of wonder. “Do you see him, Ivy?” he whispered, squinting his eyes. “He's so bright...”
I looked up at the ceiling, but only saw wood planks and cob webs.
When I looked back down, Roland's eyes had glassed over, his mouth formed into a permanent smile.
The tears dried on my face. For a long time, I just stared at Roland's still face, his unmoving chest, his unblinking eyes, holding his hand until his fingers were cold against my own.
There was a knock on the door, startling me from my silence. I looked up as Jane walked in. She paused when she saw Roland, and her face twisted in pain.
“I'm so sorry,” she said sadly.
I stood. Tears threatened to spill over onto my cheeks once again, but I held them back.
I opened my hand and looked at the flowers that lay innocently on my palm. Useless flowers.
“Will you stop me if I try to leave?” I asked, my voice stronger than I thought it would be.
She was quiet for a moment. I looked up at her, my eyes narrowing.
Finally, she shook her head with a sigh. “I won't...but the others will.”
I nodded, emotionless, and turned back to look at Roland one last time. I pressed a kiss against his forehead. “I love you,” I whispered, too quietly for Jane to hear. “And I will tell your family your message...once I find them.”
With that, I turned back toward the door. I stepped past Jane, and walked through the hallway, everything going by like a dream. Involuntarily, I shifted into half-form. I was barely conscious of the fact that the other healer was trying to stop me. I felt his touch on my skin, just before he pulled away, clutching his burnt hand to his chest. I knew that I had hurt him, but it was too hard for me to care. I paid no attention to the natives as I shifted into a phoenix right in front of them. I was deaf to their gasps and blind to their panic.
I took off, dodging the darts that were shot at me. Then, I was flying away from the natives, away from that accursed island, the plant clutched carefully in my beak.
The entire reason that Roland was dead was because of them. Them and the headmaster. Only one thought ran through my head, repeating itself over and over as I headed in the direction of the conservatory.
Roland will not die for nothing.
The End
of Book One.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First and foremost, I thank God for helping me through the writing of this book and through my entire life. Without you, Lord, I would be nothing. Literally.
Secondly, I thank Mom and Hannah for being the greatest support team a person could want (not to mention the most patient). Thank you for sharing your opinions and ideas. You guys are brilliant.
I'd like to thank my family and friends for their love and support even though I've been a hermit throughout the writing of this book. Thank you so much, guys, and forgive me for being a social recluse.
Thank you to all my literary instructors for sharpening my writing ability throughout the years. (Yes, that includes you, Aunt Kristy!) I wouldn't even be writing this if it weren't for y'all.
Thank you, READER, for taking the time to read my book! Especially the ones that liked it, but also the ones that hated every word. Without you, I would have no audience...and that would be a sad, sad day.
Thank you, Bennett, for being the sweetest Golden Retriever in the world.
Also, thank you chocolate. Particularly the kind with peanut butter. Your creamy splendor can perform wonders.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
J.B. North has loved words since she was born, but only began writing them at age eleven. She started plotting Spark when she was fourteen years old, and set out writing it at age fifteen in 2011.
North is from Abilene, TX, a city that will live forever in her heart. She now resides on a beautiful farm in Southern Virginia.