He unscrews the capsules. There’s compacted powder in each container; one a yellowish hue, the other a dark plum.
Makeup? Really?“Jack, I know I look pretty bad, but I don’t think makeup will help at this point.”
After letting loose a soft chuckle, he responds, “Actually, Rosalie, you’re looking pretty good these days. Too good.” He cocks his
eyebrows and I’m left wondering if that remark has a double meaning. Jittery butterflies pop to life in my abdomen. I sigh…he does
look really cute today, constantly trying to tuck the stray lock of hair that refuses to stay behind his left ear.
I shake my head at the thought. No, no – it doesn’t matter that he’s cute, I tell myself. We’re completely different species. Well,
maybe not that different... Besides our skin hues being off by a few shades, him being peach and me redder, the only other main
difference is the three inches he’s got on me. Those things aside, we’re completely alike. Compatible. No, no! We’re not
compatible. The fae laws prohibit interspecies dating, Rosalie! Jeesh! Get it through your thick head already!
He sits beside me and my heart races, ignoring my internal pleas to cease and desist. “Your face is filling out again and you’re
getting some meat back on your bones.”
I look down at my ribs because I have no bucket of water to check my reflection in. Sure enough, I can tell the gap between my ribs
has lessened a bit. Happiness blooms within and my lips curl upwards. “Yay,” I sing softly, patting my abdomen.
Jack smears his thumb over the purplish powder and raises his hand to my face. Surprisingly, I don’t flinch, completely trusting
whatever he plans to do. Or maybe I just secretly want to feel his touch again. His hand caresses my cheek and a burst of tickles
erupt inside me, but I hold my breath and keep my exterior reactions locked tight. He holds our gaze momentarily, then focuses on
his thumb as it dabs the powder beneath my eyes.
I pull back, and he quickly releases his grasp. “I don’t think that goes there.”“It does when you’re trying to make a certain pixie look
sicker than she really is. Your eye cavities aren’t that hollow any more. I’m trying to darken them so they’ll be less noticeable when
Finley shows up.”“Oh.” I lean forward and Jack resumes coloring my face. His touch doesn’t get the same reaction this time – I’m
too focused on what he said. When Finley shows up. I’m unsure of the days, but Jack’s right. Finley will probably make another
appearance soon. What if he can tell I’m gaining weight and that Jack’s being nice to me? It’ll be horrible if something happens to
Jack because of me. And what if Finley breaks my wings again? Or worse, dismisses Jack permanently? What if I never see him
again after today?
I shudder. My eyes close and my head dips a little.
Jack’s finger lifts my chin. “Hey,” he says softly. I open my eyes, but sorrow has taken control of my emotions. “Try not to think about
it.”
Evading my worries over losing Jack, I express my concerns for the second most horrifying thought bouncing around inside my
head. “But my wings are already so mangled. If he breaks them again, they’ll never heal.”“You don’t know that. And we don’t even
know if Finley will come back here any time soon. Maybe we can come up with something that’ll get him to put you back in the pit.”
I recoil and my forehead furrows, my eyebrows pinching with anger. “You want to put me back in the pit?”“Rosalie! No!” he bursts.
Taking a second to calm himself, he says, “Trust me when I say that not a day goes by when I’m not trying to think of a way to get you
out of here.”“You are?”
He blows a long breath through his nose and glares, like I should have known that from the start. His face slowly softens and he
caresses my face once more to resume dabbing the powder beneath my eyes. “Of course I am. Do you really think I’m just pixie-
sitting you until Finley comes along and tells me to beat it? No. Every night I go home and look through my father’s law books to see
if I can’t find something that’ll get you released. You’re here unlawfully and it’s not right. So, no. I don’t want you to go back to the pit.
But I also don’t want you stuck in this hole to be Finley’s punching bag either.”
Jack wipes his thumb on a hand towel, dabs his other thumb in the plum powder, then begins working beneath my other eye.“Does
your father know what you’re doing?”
A puff of air rushing past his lips, he answers, “No. He wouldn’t understand.”“Doesn’t he want you to follow in his footsteps though?
Wouldn’t studying his books every night please him?”“If the circumstances were any different, probably.”“And I’m the awkward
circumstance,” I state meekly.
He doesn’t answer until he’s satisfied with the amount of darkness under my eye. He sighs as he wipes his thumb clean. “Forgive
me. But I never told you something.”“What?” I ask fearfully. My mind races with endless possibilities. Was he really spying for Finley?
Have I been scheduled to die? Is he faerie elite and never told me? Whatever it is, I don’t like the way he can’t look me in the eye.“I
told my father about you and the other pixies, and how you’re all here without formal charges.”“Oh,” I say with complete surprise.
His mossy green eyes look up to mine, but they don’t shine the way they normally do. “He already knew, Rosalie.”“What? Why would
he know that? How could anyone know that and be okay with it?”“Because a lot of the upper officials think our species is better than
the rest of the fae. In their eyes, they don’t really see anything wrong with pixies making our dust. Even involuntarily.”“WHAT?” I
scream, my arms flailing up and down. “How could they think that? They wouldn’t think that if we made a couple of faeries our slaves
for the heck of it!”“No, you’re right. They wouldn’t. Which makes me worry that even if I can find something in the law books that
proves what they’re doing is wrong, it may not be enough to get them to stop. But I’ll keep looking. I promise. We’ll find a way to get
you out of here one way or another.”
I nod weakly, and return to my somber thoughts. Jack picks up the tin container with the yellowish powder and begins smearing it
above my eyebrows. “What’s that for?”“I figure it’s worth trying. I’m hoping this color on your reddish skin tone will make you appear
sickly. And if you can keep up that look you’re giving right now, you’re golden.”“I’m sorry.”“Don’t be. I hadn’t told you yet because I
knew it would do this to you. Maybe it was selfish of me not to tell you, but I’ve become accustomed to your smiles and I don’t like
seeing you this way.”
I force a tiny smile but release it pretty quickly. He smears the powder down the outside edges of my eyes, along my cheekbones
and a little across my chin.“Am I ugly yet?” I ask.
Huffing, he replies, “Hardly. Not even makeup’s going to achieve that.”
I try to smile over his praise, but my emotions have temporarily deadened inside.
Something doesn’t feel right. Though I’m stuck living in a dark hole with zero exposure to nature or the outside world, I feel as though
I’ve developed an internal clock in terms of my time with Jack. When I’m awake, I can usually pinpoint his arrival time pretty closely,
and even when I’m asleep, I still tend to wake in time to catch his arrival. My internal clock woke me up several hours ago, but Jack
has yet to bathe these walls with a much needed glow. I have no reason to believe my mind is mistaken, but nonetheless, it feels
odd that he’s not here. Has my greatest fear come true, and Jack’s been permanently kicked off pixie-sitting me? Maybe Finley
figured out he was never going to break me, and told him to beat it – leaving the breaking and beating to him from now on.
I shiver in the darkness, the thought of Finley weighing heavy on my mind, amplifying my fears with each passing minute that Jack
doesn’t show. Though another round of sixty-eight breaks to my traumatized wings completely terrifies me, it doesn’t compare to the
horror of losing Jack. Even if the only relationship we can ever have is right here in this hole, with me as his captive, I’d rather have
this than nothing at all. I know it’s silly to have a crush on a faerie, I do. But at this point, his friendship means everything to me. Even
if that’s all it could ever be. I can’t lose that. Not now.
Tears descend out of nowhere, flooding my face with multiple slippery streams. I let them flow freely wherever they lead, my head
resting sideways on bent knees. My heart aches – like really aches. It’s a heaviness I’ve never felt before, suffocating almost. My
mind drowns me with dreadful thoughts of a love lost that I never had the chance to experience. How cruel a heart can be when it
doesn’t get what it wants. Why add physical suffering when the emotional pain is already so severe? Where’s the logic in that?
My tears run dry, and horrible thoughts continuously break my heart long before a glow creeps down from above. My heart jumps to
my throat with a deep gasp, not sure whether to leap with joy over Jack’s arrival, or in absolute fear of Finley’s approach. The wavy
brown hair is unmistakable, and a smile strains to fight off the previous hours of dread. I thought I’d be ecstatic to see Jack, but the
unnecessary trauma I put myself through today has completely drained the life right out of me.
I feel it. I want to scream unto the heavens, oh, thank you, Mother Nature, but I just don’t have it in me.
He touches down slowly, his body jerking a bit. Maybe it’s the light reflecting badly off his skin, but he looks like I feel. “Hey,” I say,
the single syllable absolutely lifeless.“Hey.” He roughly stumbles to the ground, his body seemingly heavy.“You okay? ‘Cause you
kind of remind me of me a few weeks ago,” I scoff.
His smile is so weak it only goes half way. His face droops and he arches his neck so the crown of his head rests against the wall. “
Kind of feel that way too. Sorry I’m late. I feel like absolute crap today. I just couldn’t get going until now.”
He looks like he went a few rounds with a spriggan, his head so pale and swollen it actually looks a little misshapen. As much as I
yearn for him to stay, what I want and what he needs are two completely different things. It pains me to see him this way. “Maybe you
should go back to bed. Lying on the rocks and breathing in this stuffy air will only make you feel worse.”“I’m going to stay up top
because I don’t want to get you sick.”“Or, even better,” I urge, “going back to bed. I can take care of myself, Jack. Go get some rest.”
“I’ll be fine.”“Don’t make me kick your butt!” I threaten, giving in to the annoyance rising inside me. “Go home!”
He chuckles weakly, and it looks like it hurts. He groans and pathetically pushes himself back on his feet. Unzipping his satchel, he
tosses a mixed bag of pine nuts and fresh mini strawberries onto my lap. “I’ll get you some water in a bit, once I’m able to rest a
little.”
Angry, I yell, “Mother Nature, you stubborn–”
Interrupting, he snaps with all his might, “I won’t leave you alone, Rosalie! Not when Finley could show up any minute! I won’t leave
you here to face him alone! Now I’m going up top so this doesn’t happen to you. Being sick is the last thing you need right now.”
I’m speechless as he rises, completely numb to the bone. He wavers as he ascends, probably dizzy from yelling.
No, Jack. The last thing I need is to spend more time without you.“Are you completely incapable of staying down in that hole?” a
voice bellows above, waking me from a light sleep. Finley!
I gasp, fear ripping the edge of every nerve in my body. I quickly drench my hair with water, doing my best not to saturate the rest of
my body, then aimlessly dump the rest of the bucket on the floor. I blow out the lantern Jack left behind, immersing myself in
complete darkness.“It’s too hot to stay down there all day long.” I suppose the adrenaline is helping Jack snap back, because we
both know he’s been topside for three days now. Though feeling a little better, he’s bound and determined to stay away so long as
he’s still feeling sick. “Now if you’d like me to take her some place where I can actually breathe a little, then fine, I’ll work on her more
hours in the day.”“You insolent little pest. I never should have allowed your father to use this prison to shape you up. You’re a
hopeless cause.”“My father?” Jack growls. “I thought it was your idea to punish me here.”“Like I’d really bother myself with the
punishment of a spoiled brat and his stupid pranks. I don’t care if you screw up your life. All I care about is whether you’ve broken
sixty-eight yet, or if I’ll have to do the job myself.”“She’s close,” Jack spits. “She can’t endure much more.” He’s keeping his cool
better than I am, because we both know it’s a complete lie. I have to do something. Unless the makeup on my skin is absolutely
flawless after several days of me mindlessly smudging it, there’s no way Finley will be fooled into thinking I’ve had it rough down
here. Jack will get into trouble. Finley will force Jack to leave. Then I’ll be completely on my own. He might even send another faerie
to guard me – one that won’t be as kind and generous.
I can’t lose Jack. Not now.
Not ever.
I bobble the hot lantern between my hands, which tremble with fear for what I’m about to do.
Don’t think about it, Rosalie! Just do it and everything will be okay.
For Jack…
Before I can give my action a second thought, or scare myself out of doing it, I slam the metal top of the lantern into the side of my
head. There’s a brief shot of pain and a burning sensation on my skin, then nothing.
The thin, elongated leaves dance erratically as the wind blows through to the west, making them twist madly back and forth on the
long, pliable branches. The breeze tickles the fine hairs on my skin and makes me shiver, though the air is warm and sensuous.
Hands press against my back, pushing me forward, and I grip the vines more tightly as I swing forward. Back and forth, back and
forth… I kick my legs to increase the speed of my makeshift swing – two vines of the weeping willow tied to a thin stick.
I yelp when my progress yanks to an abrupt halt. For a moment, all of nature quiets in the tree, and the breeze disappears. My swing
suddenly twists to the left, more and more and more, until it can’t twist anymore. I brace myself. My swing takes off full-force to the
right. I scream playfully, the pressure building within my head, the force of the rotation throwing my balance to the left. I force my head
upward and see a feathery swirl of green with bright specks of blue and white sky twinkling down at me.
My scream turns into a burst of giggles one normally hears from an excited pixling. My swing begins to slow, readying itself to
reverse directions. I jerk back and forth a few times before coming to a complete stop. It takes a moment for the vertigo to cease
within my head.
Hands caress my shoulders and stroke the length of my back. I peek over my shoulder, but all I see is a fluttery blue shimmer. Jack.
His touch is magic, and my back begins to tingle everywhere his hands travel. I hardly feel it when his hands splay against my back,
giving me another push, setting my swing back into motion. I sigh and drop my head backwards, kicking to speed up my sway. The
flexible branches magically twist around my arms to support me. A gorgeous mop of brown waves, and eyes as green as the willow
leaves, come into focus. Just as I’m about to swing away, luscious pink lips lean in to kiss my forehead, extending the curve of my
smile.
Humming vibrates my throat, my mind filling with song. “Until then, just swing on the willowy tree.” I sway and sway and sway, for as
long as he’s willing to reward me with a kiss each time.
I’m still swaying back and forth in a heavenly trance, softly murmuring the song in my head.
No…wait. I’m not the one humming. The sound is deeper, masculine. My eyes flutter, curious to learn the source of the sound. To my
disappointment, I’m not swaying in the weeping willow anymore. The sunlight that I thought was peeping through the leaves,
sprinkling me with a kaleidoscope effect of lights, is just the flame in the lantern flickering through the wavy glass walls of its prison.
I’m about to moan my opinion of the cruel disillusionment, when I realize my body is still swaying back and forth. But it’s not a willow
branch wrapping itself around me, its Jack’s arms, securing me protectively against his body. My cheek is flush against his chest,
and my body warm and snug as if cocooned. A heavenly sigh escapes my chest, but neither I nor Jack flinch, and he continues to
rock us as he sings,“When tears and darkness fall
And you can no longer hear my call
Ignore the evil one’s tempting plea
And scurry now to the willowy tree
Wait there you must, until the day
When Mother Nature illuminates your way
I’m afraid it’s the only key
To make the evil tendrils flee
Until then, just swing on the willowy tree”
As he sings, I lift my head to watch the notes vibrate the muscles in his throat. He senses me watching, and his smile is infectious.
“You know that song?” I ask. Duh, Rosalie. Maybe whacking myself in the head wasn’t such a good idea after all – but at least I can
blame my stupidity on whatever head trauma I caused.“Yeah. My mother used to sing it to me as a child. It took me a while to
remember the words though. You’ve been singing parts of it in your sleep for awhile now, and it was driving me nuts that I couldn’t
remember the words. It was always right on the tip of my tongue. They finally came to me yesterday when you were humming it in
your sleep again.”
Lying against his firm chest is so perfect, I can’t help but reach my arms around his body and really snuggle in tight. He doesn’t
seem to mind. In fact, his head bends to gently rest atop mine. I gasp quietly inside myself, little sparks of energy popping
throughout my abdomen and chest. My heart feels like it’s trying to flip, fighting hard to break its tethers so it can join in the
celebration.
We’d been so good to minimize contact since my moan sent him fleeing. But I don’t care anymore. If he’s not going to run from me
right now, then I’m going to soak up as much physical contact as he’s willing to give.
I’m suddenly aware that my back is tingling with a numbing sensation. I groan, and elongate my neck to bury my eyes into his neck,
too afraid to check the condition of my wings. Timidly, I whisper, “Did they hurt my wings again?”
I already know the answer.
His chest expands beyond normal lung capacity. Once it slowly releases the superfluous air, he quietly replies, “You were
unconscious, so Finley didn’t stick around this time. Guess if he can’t watch you scream, he can’t get off on it.” His arms tighten,
bringing our abdomens more flush. “Anyway, spriggans aren’t book smart. Most can’t even count. I did the count silently in my head
and once I thought they did enough not to question, I told them to stop.” His upper hand sways back and forth, his fingers brushing
the skin on my arm in soft, random patterns. “I’m sorry, Rosalie. I wish I could’ve stopped them completely.”“How many?”
He knows exactly what I mean. “Thirty-two.”
I moan, and not in the pleasurable way that removed his hands in the past. If anything, his body is trying its best to cover as much of
my body as possible, as if it could protect me or something. “How long was I out?”“Four days.”
Now it’s my turn to overfill my chest. Four days? “Seriously, how bad is it?” Jack extends the length of our sway. After several
passes, I urge, “Jack?” He continues to ignore my request, and when my head fearfully rotates toward my back, he presses my head
firmly into his chest.“I’m getting you out of here, Rosalie. And soon. Finley’s not getting another chance at your wings. Okay?”
I try to nod, but his grip is immobilizing. And like a fool pixie crushing on an unattainable faerie, I allow myself to be smothered to
sleep by his protective grip.
Once again I awake like a baby cradled in Jack’s arms – and I love it. It saddens me that it took the devastation of watching my
wings broken again for him to let go of everything holding him back, but I’m grateful he has. Even if friendship is all we can share, it
warms my heart that there’s someone out there that will seriously miss me if my life’s hour glass came to drop its last grain of sand.
And I can’t believe I’m saying that about a faerie. Especially since his kind is responsible for wrongfully imprisoning me.“What time
is it?” I ask, my head swaying and my eyes heavy from grogginess.“I don’t know.”
I give in to desire and allow my head to rest on his warm chest again. “You didn’t go home last night?”“Nah,” he says, following it up
with a yawn.“Won’t your family notice you’re missing?”
I feel the rise in his shoulders when he shrugs. “Maybe. Maybe not. I’m the child that misbehaves, remember? They probably figure I’
m with Bastian or one of my other buddies. They won’t really worry unless I don’t come home again tonight.”“Must be nice,” I mutter. “
I doubt my Hollow so much as batted an eyelash when I went missing.”“Well, whether they think you left of your own free will or not,
we’re going to get you back to them.” He rolls our bodies forward, and I groan when my body takes on the vertical position. “Come
on, sleepy. You’ve got a lot to do this week to get your strength up.”“This week?” I ask, moving to lean on my hands as Jack removes
himself as my support system.“Yep. We’re not going to push the number of days we’re willing to wait before Finley shows up again.
He could be a jerk and come back in a week instead of two weeks this time. I want you gone and out of here before he even
entertains the thought of coming to see you again.” He offers his hand and I look dumbly at it. “Come on. Up.”
My arm mindlessly obeys the command, and the next thing I know, I’m on my feet, with practically an inch separating our bodies. He’
s slow to release my hand, his eyes lingering on mine, and I smile at the affection.“All right. Start walking. Go as long as you can
without pulling a muscle or cutting your feet. You’re literally going to have to run away from here. Hopefully, they won’t catch on too
quickly, and you’ll get some distance in between you and the spriggans before they start flying after you.”
He gives me a playful push to get me moving, and once again I groan. I’m still pretty tired and I doubt I’ve eaten anything in a few
days. Right on cue, my stomach rumbles and vibrates my lower abdomen.“I’ll fly home and get you something to eat. Keep walking,”
he demands, pointing his finger at me as he lifts out of here.
I huff and make my first pass around the hole. “Slave driver.”
I count ninety-two laps before Jack returns with provisions. I’m practically drooling as I watch him unpack a canteen of butternut
squash soup, two yeast rolls, strawberries and bananas covered in some sort of red glaze, and a cup of mixed nuts.“Try to eat it all
sometime today. I want you as nourished and energized as possible when it’s time to go.”
Eat all that? No flippin’ problem! I practically knock him off his feet to get to the smorgasbord. I head straight for the roll, tearing off a
piece and letting it dissolve on my tongue. “Your sister really knows how to make good bread. Definitely one thing I’ll miss around
here.”
Chuckling, he teases, “The food is all you’re going to miss?”
Squatting on the ground, I gum another piece of bread before I find the courage to meet his eyes and answer. “No. I’ll miss you most
of all. I wouldn’t even be alive if you hadn’t been assigned to watch over me. So I guess I should thank you for that.”
His smile is weak. Maybe he meant that question to be rhetorical. Or maybe he thought I wouldn’t have the courage to mention him
in my response. Either way, he seems a little uncomfortable with my answer. And here I thought we were finally moving past that.
“Thank me when I get you out of here. Which won’t be easy. I’ve got some serious research and planning to do.”
His wings flutter and I jump to my feet, a swarm of bees suddenly stinging my insides as I gasp. “Wait! You’re leaving again?”“Yeah.
I can’t plan your escape here, Rosalie. I need to observe the spriggans’ routines, gather supplies for your journey, then figure out
how I’m going to get a pixie past spriggans and faeries without drawing attention. I’ve got a lot to do and I want you safely out of here
in a week.”