I am awake, but my eyes won't open. A gravity as mighty as ten black holes seals them shut. Sweat pools down my neck, and the brazen odor of smoke ignites a desperation so dark and deep. I listen to his voice, loud and clear.
"You know, shortly after I argued with grandfather, I reluctantly accepted his offer to become an author. He approached me in the street one day, and said that fairytails are real, and it was my job to record them like a historian, as there are many versions of the same story." Something warm inches closer to my neck before I let out a shriek. The sound of my flesh hissing, carves itself into my brain. A few moments pass like a thousand years. A crisp brand mark is left behind.
"He sent me to a woman before he died who could see the future. You see, only certain people can have children with the blood of an author, women included. Do you know why I have gone through all of this trouble, Nyrah? To make you the mother of my heir?"
My lungs are burning, unable to breathe oxygen properly. I had fallen asleep on the couch, and I woke up on the floor unable to move or open my eyes. Limbs pasted to the wood, the only thing I am able to do is scream for help, but no one ever comes.
Wesley continues, his tone coated in black and red, "The second I found out you were my sister, I did a little digging."
"P-please!" I shudder in defeat, a new wet sensation near the throat from a fresh wound. "Stop this..."
Jude's breath is an inch from my ear, releasing a snake of ice down my spine. "I will not leave until I get what I came for. Simply give me your first born child when you have it, and I'll leave you alone. I want your oath that you will marry, and that you will pay your debt."
My teeth grind subconsciously, as I can imagine the look on Jude Wesley's face. I go to lift my foot to kick him away from me, but the muscles turn limp as noodles. This man has brought nothing but suffering into my life, brother or not. I laugh at him, which sounds like a grunt over amusement. "What debt?"
"My father's last name used to be Wesley, but he changed it to Sutton." A tether in my heart snaps, bringing forth a mountain of light over everything. Jude might not be lying. This means that I had a grandfather and a half-brother. All those years, I always thought I never had any family since the accident. Could...could Jude be blaming me for our father's death? I...I know it's my fault. I was a fool for thinking I could have a normal life. A life of forgetting and healing, but all the flame in my cup overflows all at once.
"I hate you!"
"I'm sorry to hear it. Truly. But I hated you first," he says. I hear footsteps to my right, moving away from my helpless body. "Let's see. Time to write again."
Fire licks at the end table near my feet as he scribbles into some book. The soles of my shoes have become significantly warm. "Because of Nyrah's disloyalty, her pleas fell against deaf ears, the child upstairs, became an orphan. Nyrah Sutton then payed with her own l-"
"Stop!" I shriek once again. "I'll do it! Let them go! I will do what you want, but please..." My voice cracks. "No more."
"...Nyrah Sutton and Kendra Black are both saved by Sol, her best friend. And Nyrah regained her sight. They fought the flames in order to save Ann Black, but they could not bring her out in time."
"Jude, don't!" I find myself sobbing, thinking of that poor girl I have yet to meet. "Please, don't take her mother away."
Torturous sobs shudder throughouy the room as he reads while he writes. Every syllable turns into a spike in my chest. "...The entire town came to help extinguish them. And this tragedy will dwell in Nyrah's heart for the rest of her living days, and haunt her every night. She will always rember that her half-brother held victory in the palm of his hand, and found happiness in watching her suffer as his father had suffered. For what is worse than being consumed by the flames, but to carry them with you?"
As the smoke grows larger and threatens to overwhelm me, I drift between the land of the living and a pit of oblivion. All I can think is that I am very sleepy, and the fingers brushing hair from my face grabs my chin. The gravity holding my eyes closed bleeds away like a waterfall, and the stiff invisible ropes holding my body down, loosen.
A blur of light dances in my vision before I make out the crest of a scarab beetle.
A dusty book slides out from an old bookshelf of memories. The book has an obsidian hardback cover with gold writing in a language I don't understand. At least, at first. The book had been odd, and I know I have seen that lettering before. In the hands of Jeremiah Sutton. My dad. He never taught me the language, but as if the meaning had been stewing inside of me all of these years, I read the words "The Code of Authors: Blood and Honor" in my thoughts.
The vision ripples away as quickly as it had come, replaced with a sense of urgency. The entire floor is engulfed in crimson light. Iron fists grip onto my arm, swinging my sack of bones toward the door. Sol and I cough loudly. "Wait!" I don't hesitate to rush upstairs. Fire licks the edges of both doorways, and Kendra screams for her mother inside my bed room. All of my sketches. All of the sewing projects I managed to finish...my heart drops as the sight of them being devoured into ash. The concern for my temporal items vanishes as soon as I realize that Mrs. Black is still asleep from all of the smoke. I can barely make out the lady's yellow-stockinged feet.
"Mom!" I hold the girl back from the large bush of fire at the threshold as she flails like a chicken held by its feet. Sol appeared behind us not too long after I made it up here. "Mom! I'm gonna save you!"
"Get her out of here!" Sol hesitates for only a moment before she obeys my command. I focus on saving this woman. I've never run toward an open flame before, and I am surprised that I am not on the floor screaming in fear. I have always been aware of the creeping terror in my soul of another fire I cannot save someone from. With one swallow of courage, another fit of violent coughs, and the serene memory of Nathan's hand in mine, I attack the threshold. Flames nip at my ankles, and a burst of heat envelops the lower half of my body. A yelp is the only appropriate sound I can make while I roll across the floor. My skirt is on fire. The hem is singed, but I manage to put it out. The woman is limp no matter how much I shake her toward consciousness.
"No, please don't leave your daughter behind!" I feel for a pulse, but it is so faint I initially thought her to be dead. A groan sounds above our heads, and it is then I know we cannot stay here. I cannot wait for her to wake up. The ceiling is about to collapse. Acting quickly, I pick the woman up, grunting with effort as the bedsheets attempt to bind her to the bedframe. I drop her back onto the bed and untangle her legs, before a pang in my stomach shoots through me. The ceiling is about to collapse. It will give way any second. As fire spreads to the quilt, and eventually the window, I shudder and wince from the rain of glass shattering over the gravel path outside. I barely notice it, but the roar of people working to douse the flames offers me hope. The woman is in my arms again, and I don't see how I can get her out without getting burned. So I rush as fast as humanly possible.
Just as I reach the door, timbers of wood crash down behind us. I whimper as I carry her, coughing along the way. I'm breathing so hard might faint as agony blooms across my arms and legs. On the other side, I drop Mrs. Black. Not because I want to, but because my legs give out on me, and my clothes are being consumed. I roll again, barely able to do the same as before as the walls have ignited throughout the hallway.
"Nyrah!" Everything is clouded. Nathan has barely come home, and all of this has happened. I wish I had accepted his offer to court me. I wish I hadn't allowed fear into my heart. I wish...two figures rush up the stairs, but their faces are difficult to determine as they float through a pillow of smoke. One figure is limping, but limping toward me so fast.
"Get Nyrah out of here, I've got the other woman." The voice is feminine, one I assume to belong to Sol. I knew she wouldn't leave us here.
Strong arms press me close to someone's chest. People are shouting at one another. My eyes close from complete exhaustion before an oddly cool breeze wraps around the pain up my arm.
"Nathan, I'm so sorry." I don't know who carried me out here, but maybe they will pass on my message somehow.
When the darkness consumes me, I greet it with resignation.
--
Dawnlight streams through the panes, and I am surprised by the weight of a young girl's head on my shoulder. Allie is cuddled so close to me, her left arm around my waist. She frowns in her sleep, but I dare not rouse her from her rest. I brush a bandaged hand across her cheek, disturbing a lock of chestnut hair from her face.
"That poor girl has refused to leave your side since the day before yesterday." Faith floats toward me with a thermometer. Her blue eyes sparkle with gentle light when I take the glass tube into my mouth. I'm certain I have questions engraved across my features, because Faith continues with an explanation. "You got some smoke in your lungs and collapsed. There will be some scarring on your arms and legs, but no lasting damage. You are very fortunate to be alive. And very brave." Images swim through my head.
Once the thermometer slips out from beneath my tongue, cold air trails a shiver down my back. "Faith, did she make it? Is she alright?"
Faith takes great care in her tone as she sits on the edge of the bed, and shortly after, I sense movement over the top of my hand. "I'm so sorry, Nyrah. Um...Mrs. Black passed away before Dr. Carson-"
"That's enough!" I snap at her just as the devastation sinks in. "Don't tell me any more...except...where is Nathan?"
"Oh, that reminds me!" Faith fumbles with an item in her pocket. "He left this for you earlier."
I receive the folded paper, wincing at the stabbing needles of heat prickling up my arm. Carson bandaged the wounds well, but I see now that it will take a bit of time to adjust to the lessened use of my fingers. I glance at my reddened fingertips. How unsurprising that I survived another fire, and it is all my brother's fault. I need to find that book I remembered. The one dad looked at, but never opened. I have no idea why I can understand the language now, when I could not before. There are still so many puzzle pieces to fit together. Why is Sol here? Who shot Nathan? Was it Jude? Why does he need an heir so badly? My conclusion is drawn to the fact that Jude hates me because he blames me for our father's death. Perhaps he feels robbed of a family. I don't know how he grew up.
Blinking towards reality once again, I thank Faith Carter for delivering the note to me, and carefully peel it open while she goes back to restocking the medicine cabinet and washing her hands. My heart hammers in my chest.
"Nyrah, when I first met you, I could not help but see how different you were to anyone on this earth. The time you pushed me into the lake was the second something in my heart changed. I observed your spontaneous courage, compassion toward others, and your cherishing attitude toward life over those months after that day. I'm not good with words, but I think the moment I knew I loved you was on Christmas day, when your eyes sparkled after we exchanged gifts.
"Do not worry about me. Allie will be staying with Elizabeth for a while, and I have gone with Bill to seek out Jude Wesley and Sol. I don't know how to bring this up, but I need to be honest with you. Sol attacked Bill in the jail the night of the fire. We found him unconscious, incarcerated, and Jude was gone.
"Please, remain safe, and continue to heal. I will return home when we have brought these people to justice.
Love, Nathan"
The stupidity! He has barely come home from the hospital, and he is off galavanting through the country to find my half brother and...It can't be...
This is like losing my family all over again.