Chapter Forty-Two
I open my door the next morning to find a figure leaning against the wall. When I step forward, something dark catches my eye. Black splotches cover the ground and smear across the walls. Not just any marks—bloodstains.
My bloodstains.
I halt, breath dragging in and out of my chest, the flame dying on my fingertips. The figure approaches—and he is small, with curly hair and big eyes. Benji.
I stare at the skinny child whose face has lost its chubby innocence. I take in his hollow cheeks, his calloused hands, and the debt ringed from fingertips to neck, suddenly looking so much like his brother.
Benji crosses and uncrosses his arms.
“You returned covered in blood,” he says. “Whose blood was it?”
Still, I cannot say. This time, I meet his eye. “When does your shift start?”
“I can do what I want.”
“You can…” I start. “I just don’t want to cause you more trouble.”
“I saw the fire spring from your arms. Remember?”
The day they called me a fae-fucker. “I’m sorry if it scared you.”
“But it didn’t. I just didn’t know you could make fire.”
“Not until recently.”
“Did you do that to the king?”
“What?”
“When you came back covered in blood. Was some of it the king’s?”
I do not speak.
“Remember when…” He looks away. “Remember when I wished for the king to hurt you? I didn’t think the planes would listen—”
“Benji, this is not your fault.”
“I didn’t think the planes would listen after ignoring me every time I begged for Jae-jae back.”
I close my eyes, throat tight. Oh, how he has grieved, how he will keep grieving, and how distraught Jeremee would be to hear how the mind of a child has warped the world’s indiscretions into his own.
“I’m so sorry, Benji, for what you have been through and for the role I have played in it. But you are utterly blameless.”
“I wished for you to be hurt, and then you came back hurt.”
I shake my head. “Those around us can impact our lives more than some unseeable plane.”
“You do not believe in the power of wishing?”
“I believe in our actions.”
“But I saw you in the bed when you wouldn’t wake up. I waited for you to wake up.”
“I’m awake now.”
Quiet, for a moment. “This was you, wasn’t it?” he says, bunching up his pants to reveal two unmarked knobby knees and legs. He is no longer an Unluckie, merely a palace faerie with two arms of dues like the rest of us.
The Illusion debt was forgiven.
“How did you do it?” the boy asks. “I didn’t deposit anything big, but the rings just disappeared when I was eating breakfast.”
Kassandra did. I shake my head—I cannot say.
“I know it was you. Who else—” His lip quivers. “Who else would help me?”
“Glenn,” I say.
“It’s different with him.”
“Has it been okay?”
“It’s not you.”
I grimace. “I’m sorry. I should’ve—”
“Did you kill someone to do this?” Benji gestures to his unmarked legs. “Is that how you released that debt?”
So he can see the monster lurking in me, even when I cannot reckon with it myself. If it weren’t for the oath—if I could deny this—would he even believe me?
He pushes down his pant leg. “Good.”
“What?” My head jerks back.
He looks up with watery brown eyes, and suddenly the stony face of a hardened faerie cracks into that of a child of only ten years. “I said good.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do. They killed my brother. All of them.” He shakes his head, his curls bouncing. “If they all get to be killers, why can’t we?”
“Benji!” I look over my shoulder, but no one is there. “How many times must we remind you who may be listening?”
“Let them listen—I don’t care!” he yells. “You can cut them down. You can conjure flames from your arms and battle the king in magic and live. So let them.” His voice breaks, and his soft brown eyes spill over with tears.
“Oh, honey—”
“Let them come for me,” he shouts louder, face reddening with the passion of a child. “My big sister can protect me. My big sister will protect me. Won’t you?”
Then he is sobbing, and I am rushing forward. Benji holds out his arms, reaching for me, and I hoist him into an embrace. Slender arms cling to me with a shocking strength, tattooed fingers balling up the fabric of my tunic, and I am crying, stroking his hair.
“Of course,” I gasp. “Of course I will. I will always protect you.”
“Even when—” He hiccups. “Even after I—”
“Shh, don’t start with that. There is nothing you can do to stop me from caring for you.”
“Why?” he cries.
Why? The same demand I made of Briar. She has taught me so much.
“Because I love you and that will never change.”
“But why?”
“Because you’re you, and I like that person very much. Because you’re my brother, my family. Because—”
He sobs harder and my legs buckle and we sink to the stones stained in my blood. And although it is dark in the hallway and we cannot see the mess, although we cannot look each other in the eye, we cling together with our remaining strength and do not let go.
I can only hope he can forgive me when I return to the king. I hope one day he understands, that Kassandra and Lila and Briar understand so they will not blame themselves. I know what I must do, not because I loathe myself but because I love them more.
But first, the final pieces must slot into place.