Dust (Of Dust and Darkness) - By Devon Ashley Page 0,52
know what he was going to say. That unlike him, missing a meal can very well kill me. Ever since I was thrown down this hole, I’ve been wasting away rather drastically.
He’s right of course, but I can’t take the sadness in his face. My head falls sideways and I notice the pail of water. I sit the canteen on the floor and slowly reach to pull the bucket my way. I’m too weak to lift it, so the bucket scrapes roughly against the rock, water sloshing out in all directions. It takes both arms to lift it towards my lap, and I can’t move it without grunting because I’m literally that weak from muscle loss.
“Don’t,” Jack says. Just the solemn way he says it is enough to draw my attention. He’s hard to read, almost void of all emotion, but I sense a little sadness in there somewhere. He shakes his head slowly. “Don’t look, Rosalie.”
I pinch my lips tight. The bucket is already sitting in the hole my legs make in the butterfly sitting position. All I have to do is bend my head. The lantern is close to enough for me to get a really good glimpse of my reflection. I haven’t seen myself since my last shower in the pit, and even then I was skin and bones, slowly wasting away like the others. I have a pretty good idea of what I look like. I can do this. I can look and be okay, because there’s nothing I’ll see that I haven’t already seen on a fellow pixie in some shape or form.
I fight his hypnotic gaze, so desperate to keep me looking up, and drop my eyes to the bucket. I gasp, my lower jaw unhinging and dropping open. No, it must be an illusion. This can’t be me.
“No…” I whisper, still in disbelief. My face has completely caved in. My cheeks: gone. The padding that keeps my eye cavities from looking hollowed out: gone. My hairline: receding a little. I think I can see every bone in my face. And the skin on my face and neck look thin; papery, almost.
“Don’t cry,” he whispers. Even this faerie who doesn’t know me can tell I’m about to break down.
“I haven’t been down here that long, right? I know I was skinny coming in, but how…how could it be this bad already?”
“You’ll turn around, Rosalie. We’ll fatten you back up. I’m just trying to start you slow so your body can handle processing food again.” With a firm voice, he tells me, “Drink the soup.”
Liquid wells behind my eyes, but I fight the release while I remove the bucket from my lap. I don’t hesitate to pick up the canteen and remove the lid, but I do pause to smell the soup. Perhaps too long, because Jack is quick to tease, “Still afraid I’m trying to poison you?” He chuckles quietly at that.
I snap to attention, deciphering any hidden meaning behind those words. I had thought that initially, having no reason to trust a faerie that kept me hidden and locked away, just to be tortured. I bumble over a few incoherent sounds before finally managing to ask, “How’d you know that?”
His smile spreads across his face. “Because that’s what I’d be thinking if our roles were reversed. But in all seriousness, you’ve been drinking the vegetable broth for two days and you’re still here. I promise I’m not waiting to tease you with the cream of vegetable to do you in.”
“Two days? I only had it yesterday, right?”
“No,” he answers, crossing his legs and arms. “That first day you were completely out of it, even with the medicine on your back. Maybe you were in shock. I don’t really know. But I got you to take a few spoonfuls in the end.”
“Oh,” I say bluntly, my eyes shamefully turning away. Was this really the same faerie I hated a week ago? Throwing food and buckets and lanterns recklessly down my hole? If what he’s saying is true, he’s been incredibly kind these past several days. I wish he could have stopped the breakage, but I can tell he’s completely outranked by Finley. Soon enough Finley will realize Jack’s not trying to break me…then Finley might just break him.
“I don’t want you to take this as a complaint or anything,” I say cautiously, watching his eyes lift at my words, “but after you spent the first couple of days throwing crap at me…” I pause,