Then the first of the black rings sear his thin arms. His screams pitch higher.
I cling to consciousness. I try. I try.
But tattoos strangle the sensitive skin, and Benji is shrieking like the day he suffered the mistake of being born. Only now the whole of his small body is marred with debt, and he is not the same child as the moment before.
Benji is an Unluckie.
I can fight it no longer. Darkness takes me under.
Part Two
House of Reign
Before the beginning, after the end.
Magic never gives, only lends.
—Unesse proverb
Chapter Ten
Days pass. I beg tosee Benji. The child refuses to speak, skin raw from new tattoos, and so Glenn and the other roommates sequester him. And because Kassandra does not call, I remain leaden on my cot, drowned at the bottom of a swamp. Through the muck and dark, I float. I sink.
Someone leaves water by my bedside. I reach for it only when the itch of thirst becomes unbearable. Someone speaks muffled words to my waterlogged senses. I nibble on stale bread left behind. I throw it up.
My knees are still pressed to that floor. I am still watching.
Doing nothing as my life disintegrates into nothing.
Every inhale is for Benji, each exhale for Jeremee.
Only for them.
I must keep breathing for when my little brother is ready to seeme.
—
A splash ofwater. My body jolts awake, my knuckles grazing stones. My soaked clothes stick to my skin. Briar places the empty bucket on the ground.
“I guess you’ll have to change now.”
I shiver. “Why’d you—”
“You smell.”
“Well, I—” Coughing, I try again. “What I need is—”
“Let’s start with a glass of water and a bath. New clothes. Then we can talk.”
“I don’t want to talk.”
“You want to rot, I know. But your mistress is awake and I thought you might want to show your face before starting your night service at Reign.”
I look up. “Awake?”
“She’s been sleeping, restoring her genius, but now she’s up. We don’t want her to know you’ve been resting.”
“Resting?” I seethe. “My friend is dead.”
