14. Vex-Candles

14. Vex-Candles

Marilynn

Three stakes appear in thecenter of the platform, they’ve been soaked in oil. Sentinels walk the selected inmates out to stand in front of the designated stakes.

It hits me like a heart attack.

“Niles, close your eyes!”

I turn to Niles with fright jittering up my spine. He looks confused, squinting to understand what he shouldn’t be seeing. I don’t wait to see if he’ll be able to handle it. My hand finds his eyes, gently shielding them from what we’re about to witness.

Skylenna and Ruth nod their thanks to me as the color drains from their faces.

These prisoners are going to be burned alive.

“I guess my fear wasn’t so irrational,” Niles murmurs, making no attempt to release my hand from his face.

No, it wasn’t.

“He’s saying these prisoners got caught trying to jump from the top of the tower. If they had succeeded, their deaths would have been painless. This punishment is for failing.” Ruth looks back at Skylenna with a wrinkled brow. “So, they tried to…”

“They’re suicide jumpers,” Dessin clarifies grimly.

I swallow the lump forming in my throat. I wonder who these prisoners are really. Are any of these people dangerous? Evil? Or are they victims of this cruel society the same way asylum patients were?

The two men and one woman start resisting as they’re tied to the stakes. The woman cries out something in another language, screaming, spitting, and fighting to break free.

“She’s begging to see her child,” Ruth whispers, tears glistening in her brown eyes. “He’s a soldier here. He’s watching from somewhere in the stadium.”

We all look around curiously, but no one is stepping forward. The soldiers laugh, throw their drinks, applaud for the punishment to continue.

The woman with long sandy hair, a face full of premature wrinkles, and scars covering her body yells something between sobs. She looks out to the audience, searching through her thick tears.

“Josen!” she screams. “Josen, Mamen ez hieeź!”

“She’s explaining that she has loved him since he was in her belly. That she tried running away to keep him from Vexamen. But they captured her, only used her for the milk she could provide. It killed her to be his pet.”

No one claims to be her son. No one raises their hand. No one races forward.

If he is out there, this speech doesn’t move him to speak up.

The sentinels light the stakes from the bottom, and I’m surprised to see how slowly the fire catches. How it simmers at the bottom like it’s taking its time.

“I can smell it,” Niles comments, his Adam’s apple bobbing along his throat.

I take a step toward him, catching the scent of woodsmoke and the bitter mix of the oil. The soldiers chant, stomping one foot as the flames lick the base of the wood.

“They’re really going to make us watch this,” Warrose grumbles in disbelief.

My mind has always been a special fortress. No one taught me to be this way. No one showed me how to protect those tender, intimate spaces of my soul. It’s simply a knee-jerk reaction now. I shut myself off to the man in front of me, blinding myself to his needs, fears, and gentle heart. I become a cold, immovable mountain. No one can hurt me. No one is strong enough to make me crumble.

Then why must my impassive glower stretch down to Niles’s scars? To the muscle in his forearm flexing and relaxing as if in a special rhythm.

Stop, Niles. Fucking be a man.

I pull my shoulders back and lift my chin in defiance of this hurricane being violently contained in my stomach. I know of Niles’s history, and the idea of him seeing what’s happening right now…to hear it. To smell the burning flesh all over again. Nerves tighten around my chest like a noose. I can’t imagine what’s going on in his head.

The room is ignited with screams of agony as the flames eat at their feet.

Niles turns to stone, but his breathing becomes erratic. Sweat forms over his brow, and he’s suddenly bracing my hand over his eyes like it’s his only anchor to sanity. I nearly slink away from his touch, alarms going off in my head to detach, disengage, walk away!

“I don’t want to be here,” he gasps.

That fortress inside me wants to ignore him. Or maybe be a little cruel in response.

“I know, Niles.” What am I doing? Let one of his friends comfort him. “It’ll be over soon.”

His entire body is quivering like a newly sprouted tree in a sandstorm. The smoke fills the space around us, slipping into our nostrils, infused with the stench of scorching flesh. The prisoners wail in agony, bucking against the restraints that bind them.

“Please, make it stop.” Niles can hardly breathe. He’s wheezing as sweat drips down his chest, and he squeezes my hand over his eyes like it may stop the flashbacks. It may put an end to the psychological torment he’s reliving.

Skylenna looks back at me, her eyes flickering darkly to Niles. She takes a step toward him, but I stop her. What am I doing? She clearly knows him better. Knows how to comfort him. But I’d be lying to all of them if I said I didn’t know Niles at all.

“I’m—going to lose it.” My chest grazes his stomach as he leans into me. And I feel that little girl inside me begin to break free. The one that wants him to know her.

“I’ve heard stories about you since I was a little girl,” I whisper, standing up on my tippy toes to bring my mouth and words closer. “My parents used to read Judas and I the prophecies that all the ancient colonies passed down from generation to generation. It was said that you were the patient with a heart of gold. The man who would sacrifice all he had to protect those he loves.” Tears burn hot as they line my eyes like a second skin. His story has always weighed on my heart like a medal of honor.

Reel it in. Don’t let it get to you.

“There were stories about me?” he asks, fighting to keep his breath under control.

“Yes.” Although the stories of Patient Thirteen and The Fallen Saint were a fascinating, epic love tale…nothing compared to my favorite character.

His mouth parts in surprise. It’s as if the entire stadium goes silent for us.

“I used to ask my mother to tell me the story about your valor in the Battle of Hangman’s Beach. I cried every time she told my brother and I of your bravery, your undying effort to free DaiSzek.”

“You did?”

I nod, even though he can’t see me. “You were my favorite bedtime story. The Niles I learned about…he is strong in the face of terror.”

He swallows, goose bumps forming on his arms.

Don’t say it…

“You are a hero to me, Niles.” The tears swell over my lashes, and I can’t keep the passion from leaking into my wavering voice. Anger is a ship wrecking into the iceberg of my soul. Why am I doing this? Why can’t I just steer clear? Why did my cell have to be right next to his?

As the stakes roar with flames, the stadium ruptures in animated chaos. But Niles lifts my hand from his eyes. He gazes down, meeting my eyes with a look of seriousness I have yet to encounter from his humorous manner.

He’s…so beautiful.

Niles parts his lips to speak, but for once, can’t find the words. He watches the tears trickling down my cheeks and uses a thumb to catch the next tear before it can fall. He smiles with both pain and warmth as he stares at that tear on his thumb. And before I can speak again, he pulls me against his body, wrapping his strong arms around me. My face presses against the center of his chest, inhaling his scent of oak, sunshine, and the soap from our showers. Never in my life have I received a hug with such tenderness, such affection.

It’s a Niles hug.

My arms curl around his waist to embrace him back, feeling the detail of his muscles, his scars, his soft skin. And it’s the way he runs his hand through my long red hair that sends chills prickling over every inch of my skin.

My thoughts are a war of screaming and begging. I’m walking a dangerous line by letting myself feel this.

As I open my eyes, Skylenna stands in my line of sight, watching our embrace with an emotion I can’t identify clouding her eyes. She’s thoroughly examining my posture, body language, and the tears running trails of pent-up emotion down my freckled cheeks. You can back down, Fallen Saint. I’ll keep my distance from your golden boy.

After a long moment, everyone is standing around us. Ruth puts a hand on Niles’s shoulder. “It’s time to head back.”

But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t acknowledge that they’re all waiting for us. He takes in a deep, soothing breath, and kisses the top of my head.

“This family loves to ruin a good hug, huh?” he jokes, returning back to his humorous state of being.

Walking back to our cages, I replay that hug.

Over and over again.