Chapter 40 #2
I managed to pry my heavy eyelids open, alarmed at the pain in my brother’s voice.
It took me a second to realize I was in Nemo’s spare room again.
I scanned the room, finally finding Wolf standing by the fireplace with Sable.
He was leaning against the wooden mantle, one hand covering his face.
Sable stepped forward and caught Wolf’s wrist, pulling his hand away from his face.
“Wolf, listen to me,” Sable said, his voice firm but kind. “You’ve made some missteps, but you’re here. She’s here. You have another chance to make things right.”
They studied each other for a long time, and the emotion filling the room made me feel like I was intruding on something private.
“Is that how you feel?” Wolf asked, but the question was gentle.
“I don’t want to make this about me,” Sable said in a low voice.
“Sable,” Wolf’s voice was so soft, “you caring about her, too, doesn’t make this about you.”
“It’s hard… to separate the two now,” Sable confessed. “Sometimes I can’t remember Hattie’s face, and when I try to picture her, I just see Ember.”
“You’ve been lookin’ for her with me for a long time. I’d be more worried if you didn’t care about her.”
“I know. I just would never want Hattie to feel replaced .”
Wolf stepped closer to Sable, and I watched him tenderly brush Sable’s hair back, tucking it back behind his ear. “I know I didn’t get to meet Hattie, but from what you’ve told me, I’d guess she’d only be happy to see you take care of another little sister who needs it.”
I watched them with an ache in my throat.
I’d never seen my brother like this with anyone.
I’d genuinely not paid much attention to the teachings of Carth, but I tried to imagine how it’d been for Wolf, constantly being told that a part of himself he had no control over was something bad, that any love he felt was twisted and wrong.
I’d seen the twisted and wrong kind of love.
That kind of love had been beaten into my body, mind, and soul.
That kind of love was all I knew until Trey.
“Speaking of…” Wolf looked up and met my eyes, grinning. “Mornin’, Emmy.”
I flushed at being caught eavesdropping, but Wolf didn’t seem mad. Sable straightened and strode toward me, scanning me closely.
“Good morning, Ember. How you feelin’?”
I made a face in answer. “What happened?”
“You passed out,” Sable answered, frowning as he took my pulse from my wrist.
“No shit,” I couldn’t help saying, the corner of my mouth lifting.
Sable smirked, glancing at Wolf. “That smartass trait really must be hereditary.”
Wolf snorted, but the smile on his face was soft.
Sable grew solemn again as he turned back to me. “You didn’t get a fever, did you? After you… used your power?”
I didn’t miss the hesitation, but he was right.
I’d been out of it after leaving the Voiceless camp, but not feverish.
I must have expended a lot of power taking out the Voiceless, but no burnout fever followed.
I swallowed hard, trying to keep from picturing the bloody mess.
Was it because I’d… I’d killed them instead of healing?
I realized Sable was still waiting for an answer and shook my head.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but based on your vitals, I would guess you still aren’t feeling great?”
“Might be the… the brand,” I mumbled.
“I suppose,” Sable replied, his tone doubtful.
“What do you mean, the brand?” Wolf asked from where he’d perched on the end of the bed.
“If her powers are working on healing the brand, the constant healing could be draining her.”
“So she might feel better once it’s healed?”
“I would hope so.”
I didn’t miss the look Sable was giving me. He suspected there was something more, but I did not want to dwell on what I’d done to the Voiceless or the possibility that I was sick or, as Talmar put it, corrupted .
“Time to change the bandage?” I asked.
“Yeah, you ready?”
I nodded and slowly sat up, trying to brace myself for the pain. The bandage didn’t cling quite so badly this time, but cleaning it still hurt like a bitch.
“I owe you an apology, Em,” Sable said suddenly, causing Wolf and I to look up at him in surprise.
“For a long time, your brother would hide wounds from me, and I had to push him constantly before he let me help him. It drove me crazy.” He glanced at Wolf with a wry smile, and Wolf’s ears turned red.
“You are like him in so many ways, and I think I instinctively started bein’ pushy with you like I would with him, but that wasn’t fair to you.
You’re not him, you didn’t know me at all, and you have a lot of understandable trauma about being touched.
I should have been more patient, and I’m sorry. ”
I glanced between Sable’s serious, sincere expression and Wolf’s guilty one. “It’s okay,” I whispered, my throat constricting. “I’m… I’m so sorry about Juck—” a sob choked me, “and your s-sister?—”
“Emmy,” Sable took both my hands and squeezed them gently. “What Juck did was not your fault. You were a victim just as much as I was.” He glanced at Wolf. “Wolf told me about the beating you got the time you tried to free the slaves and I wish I’d been there. I wish I could’ve killed him for it.”
“Me too,” Wolf said viciously.
“When I think about all the times you were so fuckin’ close by and knowin’ he was trying to throw us off?—”
“Wait, what?” I choked out.
Sable shot a stricken look at Wolf. “Shit, sorry, I thought you told her about that.”
“S’alright, I was going to.” Wolf sighed and turned to me.
“Juck gave us several bad leads about your location. Claimed he saw you in a bunch of different places, but they always ended up being dead ends.” His voice cracked.
“And the whole time, he had you right there . You were so close, and I didn’t know. He was just fuckin’ toyin’ with us.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. The knowledge that I could’ve been rescued, that he’d been so close more than once, hurt just as bad as the burn on my chest. I hated that all of us had just been pawns in other people’s games.
“I’m so sorry, Em.”
The pain in my brother’s voice made me open my eyes. His face was a map of guilt, and my eyes overflowed as I freed one hand from Sable and took his, squeezing hard. “It wasn’t your fault, Wolf,” I managed to say. “It wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault.”
We sat in silence for a while, all of us grieving what could have been. Eventually, Sable let out a deep breath and released my hand to reach for the bandages so he could re-bandage the burn.
“Wait… I… I want to see it.”
Wolf and Sable exchanged a look, but Wolf got up and fetched a small mirror hanging on the wall.
He handed it to me, and I stared at the reflection of my pale face.
My eyes looked large on my thin face, and a yellow bruise lingered on my cheek.
I took a breath, attempting to steel myself, and angled the mirror down.
My chest was a mess. The skin around the brand was swollen and inflamed, with the brand itself red and blistered.
A familiar ringing filled my ears as I numbly studied the shape.
It resembled an “X,” but with the top and bottom closed, forming two triangles meeting at their points.
A horizontal line slashed through the middle where the points met.
This new mark was larger than the “J” and covered most of it, but the shiny scar tissue of the “J” was still visible inside the triangles, with the tail of the “J” curling out from the bottom.
It was clearly made with a branding iron.
It looked far more legitimate than the crude brand Juck had given me and more like the brand on Sable’s shoulder.
The whole thing was made of sharp, aggressive lines.
It looked like a brand you would find on an animal, which made me feel even worse for some reason. It was horrible and ugly and?—
The door burst open, and I jumped, but Mac stood there, breathing like he’d run up the stairs.
Wolf and Sable were on their feet, snapping questions at him, but Mac ignored them, striding up to where I sat frozen on the bed, still holding the mirror.
He sat on the bed beside me, his eyes on the burn, rage flashing across his face, but then he looked up and met my gaze.
He reached out and cupped my face, thumbs gently brushing away tears I hadn’t realized were leaking down my cheeks.
“Trey said it first, but you really are a godsdamned warrior, Em,” he said in my head.
I sniffled and tried to contain myself, but the memory of Talmar’s words flashed through my head— may this symbol forever serve as a reminder that your mind, body, and soul belong to the God of Death.
“The only thing this mark is a reminder of is how you fought back, and you won,” Mac said, his voice fierce. “I hope whenever the Voiceless see their godsdamned mark, they think about how you beat them.”
I couldn’t hold his gaze. I dropped my eyes only to catch the reflection of my chest in the mirror again.
I pushed the mirror away from me, letting it fall flat on the bed.
It felt so fucking dumb to even think about physical appearance right now, but a part of me hated that the horror I’d gone through was so visible— that they’d disfigured my body in such a prominent and permanent way.
I had secretly hoped the “J” would fade with time, but I doubted this would.
I’d be lucky if it healed flat. I hated that I felt so ugly.