Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
The light in the dark
sapphire
The last male of the evening left my room, and I let myself breathe. I was done for the night. No more pretending. There was no point. Even so, I didn’t have the strength for it.
I opened the sachet of cinderleaf and frowned.
I needed more, and couldn’t wait another day.
I crossed to the dresser and lifted the pitcher, soaking a cloth in the clay bowl.
The water was cold as I ran it over my skin, wiping away as much of the day’s grime as I could.
Once I felt somewhat clean, I dressed, tying the black ribbon I always wore loosely around my throat.
The fabric of my cloak rustled, its hood brushing my cheeks as I draped it over my shoulders.
I gathered the coins from the bed and headed downstairs.
There was still plenty of movement on the floor. Men, women, drinks, smoke, despair cloaked in laughter. I ignored all of it, looking only for Esse. I spotted her across the room leaning against the bar. She flicked her eyes to me as I neared.
I held my hand out. “Here is my payment for the night. I’m off to the apothecary.”
She nodded once, her sharp gaze travelling over me. “Two men were here yesterday looking for you.”
My body stiffened. “So? Men are always looking for me.”
Esse huffed as she reached for the coins. “I suppose. These two seemed intent on finding you.”
I shuddered to think of who they might be. There’d been plenty of times I’d caught the unwanted gaze of someone in the streets. Had I pissed someone off so much that they’d come to put me in my place?
Maybe I shouldn’t go out tonight. My eyes slid to the front door anyway. The thought of not being able to silence the voices in my head, or dull the ache in my chest, had me quickly dismissing that hesitation.
“What did they look like?” I asked Esse, turning back to her.
She shrugged. “Like most Thorns around here. One had dark hair, the other red.”
I caught onto that last word. Red. Like it was meant to mean something to me. Emerald eyes. A kind smile. A soothing voice that I would never hear again. Doesn’t matter anymore I didn’t deserve to see him again.
That constant ache ripped through my chest again. I hated it—hated how it never left me. An unwanted companion that I never asked for. A hole where my heart used to be.
Damn the men. Damn Oscuro.
I clenched my teeth and squared my shoulders. “I suppose if they’re persistent enough they’ll come back.”
I headed towards the front door, not bothering to wait for her reply. Light spilled onto the stone, casting my shadow over the street. Pulling my hood up over my head, I made my way to the apothecary.
It was dark, the sky a heavy blanket of ink splattered with lacklustre stars. Even the joy of looking towards the sky was gone. Thankfully the streets were quieter late in the evenings. I was grateful the store stayed open well into the night.
My boots clicked with pace as I rounded the corner. The apothecary was just up ahead. Relief had barely begun to settle in my chest when I slammed straight into something solid.
A basket tipped.
Rotten fruit spilled across the ground with a wet, sickening splatter.
“Watch where you’re going!” the man snarled.
I stumbled back, my hands lifting instinctively. “I didn’t—”
His grip shot out, fingers wrapping around my arm before I could step away. The smell hit me first—fermented, sour, clinging to him like the fruit now crushed beneath our feet.
The dark folded in on me. My chest caved, my pulse roared, and suddenly I was back in that other night—Rhodes hands dragging me down, cold stone under my spine, the panic that swallowed me whole before death did. The memory slammed into me so hard I couldn’t breathe.
“You think you can just run into me and take what you want?” he snapped, yanking me closer. “I saw that. Thought you’d get away with it, did you?”
My heart lurched. “I didn’t take anything.”
“Liar.” His grip tightened. “Girls like you are always looking for an easy handout.”
“I said I didn’t—”
I tried to twist free, panic beginning to claw its way up my throat. His hold only tightened, dragging me back as I struggled.
“Let go,” I hissed, my voice sharp but thin.
“Not until you give back what you took.”
“I didn’t take anything!” My voice broke this time, the fear spilling through it.
He leaned in, eyes wild, breath rancid. “Then maybe I’ll just take off one of your pretty fingers as payment.”
Something inside me snapped. I shoved him as hard as I could, the heel of my palm crunched into his nose.
The man let out a strangled grunt, his grip loosening just enough for me to wrench back—but not enough.
His hand came across my face in a brutal strike.
The crack rang through my skull, stars bursting across my vision as my head snapped to the side.
“You little—”
I was so tired. So tired of fighting. Of being strong. Of keeping Oscuro’s teeth out of my flesh.
Just as he reached for me again, I used the last of my strength to lift my leg, kneeing him in the cock.
The male groaned, but still held me firmly around my upper arm, his wild eyes locked onto me. “You’re gonna pay for that.”
Another blow was coming; I could feel it.
I braced for the crack, for the blood, for the blackness.
It was quick, but painful. Heat bloomed across my cheek as he backhanded me once again.
My head cracked to the side, and my eyes blurred.
I was too weak. I couldn’t even see properly.
I was going to pass out and there was nothing I could do about it.
I crumpled to the ground, landing on my side. Sharp pain shot through my ribs as rocks dug into my bones, knocking the wind from my lungs. This was it. It was Rhodes all over again, except this time I didn’t think I had the will to get back up.
“Hey!”
A voice cut through the night—female, sharp as steel.
I looked up in time to see the metal blade of a dagger flash, embedding in my attacker’s shoulder with a sickening thunk.
The male howled, releasing his grip on me as he staggered back, clutching at the hilt.
For a moment I thought he might come at me again—but fear won out.
He tore the blade free and bolted into the shadows, his curses trailing behind him.
I sagged against the wall, the world around me tipping sideways as my lungs clawed for air. A shadow stepped closer. The figure was slim, dark cloak and pale hair. I opened my mouth to speak but couldn’t form words.
“Are you alright?” the woman asked.
Her slender hand reached towards me, and then the dark swallowed me whole.
~~~~~
The biting scent of alcohol and the fresh scent of herbs roused me awake. I blinked, the world slowly coming back into focus. My brow pinched as I inhaled through my nose again. The streets of Oscuro never smelled like this, nor did The Painted Lady.
With a sharp breath, I bolted upright, my heart thundering against my ribs. My hands twitched into fists, braced to fight the mad looking male from the fruit stall.
I blinked.
The wash of sage walls stunned me. I’d expected the grime of the streets, the gloom of the sky—yet here I was, staring at artwork pinned haphazardly along the walls instead.
I bit the inside of my cheek, taking in the pictures and succulents perched in clay pots along the wooden shelves.
Beneath the mingled scents of alcohol and herbs came the faint aroma of cooked food. And for once, it didn’t smell like rot.
The bed was small but comfortable, sturdier than most I’d slept in. Four posts rose at each corner with a mustard-coloured canopy stretched overhead. The knitted blanket wrapped around me was thick and warm, probably the softest thing I’d laid against my skin in a long time.
Was I dreaming? There was nothing this nice in Oscuro.
My ribs ached with every breath, a deep, bruised throb that made it hard to move. My head pounded in rhythm with my heartbeat, the memory of the alley still flickering behind my eyes—hands, shouting, then nothing.
Someone had saved me. A woman.
“How are you feeling?”
My head snapped towards the voice. Across the room, a woman leaned against the door frame. She had strawberry blonde hair, and a pretty smile. Large, round red-rimmed glasses complimented the light green colour of her eyes.
“I’m—I’m fine . . . thank you,” I managed to blurt out.
She pushed off the frame, and shoved her hands in her rusty-brown trouser pockets as she slowly walked towards me. Black wings peeked over the top of her head, swaying gently with her gait.
“Would you like some water?” she offered, heading towards a jug and cup sitting on a small table beside the bed. I noted the inked images traced into her skin. Starting at her fingertips, they travelled up her arm and disappeared under the sleeve of her dark green top.
I licked my dry, cracked lips and nodded. “Thank you.”
The sound of water trickling bounced around the room and then my rescuer handed me a cup. I accepted it carefully, never taking my eyes off her hands.
She grinned, taking a step back. “I’m Abby.”
I took a sip of the water. Surprisingly it didn’t taste like bath water. “I’m B—Sapphire.”
“How's your head? You took a blow.”
I reached out and brushed my fingers over my temple. “I’ve had worse.”
Abby winced. “Well if you need some sort of cold compression for the pain, just let me know.”
I sipped the water again, flicking my gaze to Abby every now and then. Why was she being so nice? What did she think I had to offer her in thanks? No one offered kindness without some sort of payment.
“Wh—where am I?” I managed to ask.
Abby moved towards the small kitchen in the corner of the room. “My house. I hope that’s alright. I didn’t know where else to take you.”
“What happened?”
“That piss pot of a man attacked you. So, I stabbed him.”