Page 43 of Into The Green

"Cece," Jasper's voiced called, sounding weak.

At the sound, the forcefield dissolved almost instantaneously. I fell down on my knees beside him, taking in the damage with eyes not half-blinded by fear. His face was bruised and swollen. Matching purple, red, and blue marks were down his torso. Then there was his chest, the letters crudely carved across it. Traitor. I didn't have the stomach to look at his back yet. "Let's get these off you," I said, motioning to the cuffs. Doyle appeared by my side, lock pick in hand, his shirt off and wrapped around his hands as he worked the iron free. Jasper cursed savagely as Doyle pried the metal from the burned flesh of his wrists. "It's not that bad," I said, trying for comforting.

"You're a terrible liar," Jasper said, wincing.

"Nothing a little yarrow can't fix," I shrugged, hoping that was true. Beside me, back on his feet, Doyle was dressed again and anxiously looking anywhere but at the gruesome image of his friend. I didn't blame him. It was enough to make my stomach roll too. But he needed our help. "Doyle, you can go find some, right?" I asked, giving him a chance to go get himself together.

He looked down at me, relieved. "Yeah."

"And as much water as you can bring back," I added.

He nodded tightly and ran off. I took a deep breath, settling my stomach so I could look at him again. Then suddenly, his hand was on the side of my face. "My father?"

"Oh, this little thing... this was one of his henchmen. He thought I was just a silly lost changeling when he did it. Your father?" I asked, running a finger underneath the gash down his cheek.

"My father wanted to paint the floor a new shade of red."

"I think I would rather face your father in those dungeons than your mother."

"You met my mother?" Jasper asked, straightening, looking worried.

"She had me in for tea." A look of pure horror crossed his face before I went on. "Don't worry; I didn't drink it. I seemed to recall at the last second, someone telling me not to eat or drink anything that he didn't give me."

"I figured you were too stubborn to listen," he said, lips almost turning up at the ends. Almost. "It's good they didn't know why you were really there."

"Oh, they did," I said, pushing down on his legs as he tried to push himself up. I wasn't a doctor, but I was pretty sure his best bet was to stay still so he didn't break open all his cuts again. "It was quite a discussion. Actually, I think they might know who my real parents are. They kept fighting about why they couldn't keep me, something about the Light and the Courts or something. I don't think they bought the Will-o'-the-Wisp story Drake gave me for a second."

"I'm sorry you couldn't get him out too," Jasper said, meaning it.

"He saved me twice," I said, my voice a little sad.

"He knew what he was doing. He knew the risk. He wanted to help."

"I guess," I said, thinking of all the bruised plates on his back he got as a thank you. I took a deep breath, pressing on. "Did you... know you have another sister?"

"What?" The word exploded out of him, echoed out around us. When I looked at his face, it was full of disbelief and horror. "How do you know that?"

"I met her. She looks just like you and Jade, just a little softer maybe. Her name is Amy."

"That's short for something," he said, but it was somehow a question too. "How old was she?"

"Late teens. Seventeen or eighteen. And it is short for Amethyst."

"Ironic."

"Why?"

"Amethyst, among other things, cleanses a home of negativity." He paused, thinking. "If she was seventeen or eighteen, she must have spent a good part of her childhood in the human realm to age up. If she was born after Jade and I left, she would be much younger in fae years."

"She's not like your parents. She's... softer, sweet, maybe a little shy. But also defiant and brave. She thanked me on purpose so she would owe me and she saved Drake from the beating he was getting by lying to the guards. I think she is grossly underestimated by your parents."

"That's probably the only way she'll survive under their roof."

"Hey, a little help here," Doyle called.

I scrambled to my feet and reached out for two of the hollowed squashes full of water. I moved beside Jasper, digging them into the ground so they would stand on their own as Doyle layered an enormous pile of yarrow, lavender, chamomile, and roses on the ground. I reached for a rose and picked it up, brows knitted.

"To staunch bleeding," Jasper supplied.