all. Not the Tiernan, not his scrawny, unsatisfying brother, and not you.”
Here with you.
Elban grabbed Judah’s wrist and, fingers like iron, wrenched it to expose the skin on her inner arm. Her dress had half sleeves and she could see the marks from Gavin’s scratching. “Let’s speed that day along,” he said, and pressed the flat side of the poker against her skin.
The pain was instantaneous and brilliant and the rest of the room shrank to nothing, but her training held and she did not cry out. She heard Elly’s horrified gasp and heard—smelled—the sizzle of her own skin cooking. Her vision refracted in her tear-filled eyes. Countless Elbans. Countless pokers. Countless arms, all of them burning.
“See how easy she is to hurt, heir. See how easy you are to hurt.” All she could see clearly were Elban’s eyes, the irises so pale they were almost white. He lifted the poker—it stuck to Judah’s skin, pulling free with a disgusting tearing sound—and before Judah knew it was happening he held the other arm and the poker came down again and the searing doubled. “See how quietly you sit and watch, what a well-trained little dog you are, already. So much for love.”
“I’ll lock her away.” Gavin’s voice sounded strangled.
“Yes. You will. But we’re not bargaining.” He lifted the poker again and dropped Judah’s arm. She fell to her knees, staring at her branded skin. He had flipped the poker so the two burns were mirror images of each other: the point, the hook, the barb, in wet, mottled gray and red. The smell coated her throat. She very much would have liked to pass out, or throw up, and tried very hard to do neither.
Elban bent over Judah, examining the marks. Sounding once again like the worst of their tutors, he said, “It’s a delicate balance, you know. Leave the brand too long and the nerves are destroyed, so the pain stops. But lift it too soon, and the scars don’t shine the way they should.” Satisfied, he straightened. “I think I’ve gotten these exactly right. Her scars will be pretty, even if nothing else about her is.” He stirred the fire with the poker. Judah stared, fascinated and feverish, at the logs in front of her, as they shifted and glittered. Her arms glittered, too, shining as intensely as the coals. Gavin, far away, was gray with shock and pain and misery, sweat dampening the edges of his hair.
“Keeping in mind, of course,” Elban said, “that all of this is only happening because you love your brother too much to kill him.”
Theron. Judah needed to take care of him. She had sworn it. She focused all of her self into her legs, and stood up.
“Amazing.” Elban’s voice, bright and interested, was growing distant. “A normal woman would have to be carried to bed after burns like that. She’s barely human.”
She was not human. She was pain in the shape of a human. She glittered like fire. She burned.
* * *
In the corridor, Gavin’s arm instantly circled her, trying to hold her up despite his own pain. “Jude, my arms—I can’t carry you—” he said, sounding desperate and scared, but then Elly had her other side. Her feet dragged as her head lolled on Gavin’s shoulder, as his voice in her ear told her he was sorry, sorry.
Then she was lying on Elly’s big soft bed and Elly’s gentle hands were moving around her. “Get the scissors from my sewing basket,” Elly said.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“We need to cut these sleeves off. Maybe the whole dress.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Gavin. Help me.” Elly’s voice was sharp and direct enough to even break through Judah’s haze. Judah could see her hovering overhead, carved into hard white stone with the force of her anger. In a moment Gavin was there, too, equally white but sweaty and sick from his own burns; careful not to move her arm, he took Judah’s hand, then dropped his head to it. Kissed it, lay his cheek against it. The waters inside him were stormy and rough. Judah could not try to soothe them.
Meanwhile, she could hear the low sliding snick of Elly’s sewing scissors, and then water falling into a bowl somewhere, as a cloth was wrung out. More kindly than she’d spoken to Gavin, but with just as much firmness, Elly said, “Judah, I’m going to clean your arms. It’ll hurt, love.”