and lavender, with the laughter pouring from you, and now it’s all blood and darkness, with your throat closed so tight your own breath is choking you.”
The truth of his words wrapped around her, and Grace gasped for air, letting it out in a deep rush as if to release the smoke he spoke of and give her voice freedom.
“That’s right, keep doing it. The in and the out of the air. Your lungs know the job, know it well enough to do it without being told, and likely won’t stop even if you want them to. You’re alive, girl. And it’s been a good long while since I’ve had an interesting person in the darkness with me. And you’ll stay alive, for Falsteed is not about to let those that have the brimstone in them die while he’s near. No, not me.”
There was a scraping noise of wood against rock and something nudged against her foot in the filth. “Grab the end of that, and feel about on the wall in the corner. There’s a bit of rock that sticks out just enough to rest the board against. I’ll put the other end on my knees and take the weight of you on myself, for the night. You’ve got to get out of the muck, your lower parts anyway. There’s dirt and filth ankle-deep everywhere down here. The last fellow that had that cell was none too gracious about using his bucket. That’s not only mud you’re wallowing in.”
Grace felt around for the board poking at her toes and found the ridge in the wall easily. She felt the other end of the board lift along with her as she put it in place, rain trickling over her fingers. Her hands came away with the sweet smell of outdoors, only slightly fouled by the cellar walls. She pressed her hands against her face, the rainwater cooling her swollen eyes.
She sat on her makeshift bench and felt it settle on Falsteed’s end as he adjusted for taking her weight on his knees. Grace curled into the corner of her cold darkness, resting against the wall and feeling the rain seep through the rocks. Her eyelids sank and she felt her jaw fall slack right before sleep brought the darkness from outside into her mind.
As she settled into its comfortable grip she heard Falsteed’s voice once more. “Dear child, do you even know all the rage that is inside you?”
EIGHT
Whether her eyes were open or closed, she could not tell. Sleep and reality melted together until she saw a streak of light in the darkness, a cascade of blond hair that flowed over a white linen pillowcase leading to a pair of bright blue eyes. Grace’s memory provided the details, down to the pattern of broken blood vessels in the whites of her little sister’s eyes, red from crying.
“Alice,” Grace said, the name slipping through the slit between her teeth. “Alice. You can’t be here. You don’t belong in the darkness.”
Her sister smiled, the pearly white of her childish teeth bright against the pinkness of her lips. But it was Falsteed’s baritone that came from her mouth, bringing with it a swirl of black that pulled her to consciousness.
“Wake up, love. Reed’s brought you clean clothing. Heedson fancies that Reed’s our jailer, and though he may collect an asylum paycheck, I’ve given him something more than money in the past. You can trust him.”
A flicker of light caused her to cover her eyes, the anonymity of the dark lost.
“S’all right, then, girl.” A new voice came from behind the lantern. “I’ve not come to look upon ya. Come and take the clothes I’ve snatched up, and you can toss the old once yer decent.”
Grace stretched her legs hesitantly, feet sinking ankle-deep into muck before finding the stone beneath. She heard Falsteed shift in the cell next to hers as her weight came off the board, both knees popping audibly. A hand beckoned to her from behind the lantern, and she approached cautiously, eyes still shaded against the light.
“C’mere then, and back to the shadows with you for the dressing part.”
Grace’s fingers closed over the clothing, the dryness of the fabric drawing a sigh from her as she took it. Back to the darkness of the corner, she let the filthy sheet fall away, wadding it into a pile at her feet. The clean clothes fell over her shoulders, fitting awkwardly around the new laxness of her belly, empty without the life