Page 200 of Flame and Sparrow

It hit me all at once at his suggestion—how exhausted I was. I wanted to go up and collapse in my bed, to sleep for as long as I could get away with.

But I could only think of one thing Ineededjust then.

“I think I should stay close to you,” I said, “if I help you think more clearly.”

His smile turned a bit mischievous. “You won’t hear any arguments from me about that plan,” he said, taking me by the hand.

* * *

The washroom was warm,just shy of sweltering, and smelled of cedar, soap, and spice. The lights were dim, and the only sound came from our tired steps and quiet breaths—a welcome reprieve from the noisy wars on the other side of the door.

While Dravyn wasted no time undressing and slipping into the tub, I hesitated by the sink, studying my reflection.

The last few days had not been kind to it. Dark circles surrounded my eyes, while the rest of my face was sickly pale, almost gaunt, making the burn scars along the side of it seem darker and more pronounced than usual.

Yet there was strength in this reflection, too, I couldn’t help but notice. A new kind of spark brightening my tired eyes and holding my chin up. Something even more powerful than the hatred that had fueled me for so many years—it was the same something that had made me jump back into this world, I think.

As I pulled my tunic off, I noticed for the first time just how much blood I’d drawn from my wrist. I thought I’d washed away most of it in my room earlier, but there was more hiding beneath my long sleeves than I would have guessed.

I started to wash the rest of it away in the sink, not wanting to soil the bathwater with it. I could feel Dravyn watching me as I worked, his gaze like a soft, intimate touch.

“The blood on your arm…” he said after a moment. “Who did that to you?”

“I did it to myself,” I said, quietly. “When I was trying to get your attention near the mortal-side veil.”

I could only see part of his face in the mirror, but it was enough; he looked clearly horrified at the thought of being even indirectly responsible for any of the marks on my skin.

It occurred to me then that I’d never actually shown him my claws—though I was certain I’d mentioned them at least once during all our time spent together. And I wanted to distract him from whatever horrible thoughts were rushing through his head, so I turned to him and held up my hand, letting my nails extend, flexing the sharp black tips for him to see.

He stared at them for a long moment, a bemused little smile on his lips. “Unpredictable,” he mused.

“Like a wildfire,” I finished.

“A more fitting nickname thanSparrow, I’m beginning to think.”

All the ghosts of my past lifted their heads and snarled at this declaration, insisting he was wrong—that I would always be a sparrow, small and stuck in my sister’s shadow.

I quieted the rebellious voices and took a step forward—toward this new name—despite all of the doubts and fears trying to hold me back.

Then I managed another step.

Another, another, another, until I was slipping out of the rest of my bloody clothes, shaking off the dust of the world I’d walked away from and taking Dravyn’s hand, letting him help me into the tub.

I sank down into the water with him, and he turned me around and pulled me back against his chest. We fit perfectly together, and for a few minutes I managed to relax against him, to forget about all the jagged pieces outside of this room thatdidn’tfit into the future I had started to want, no matter how I tried to force them.

Dravyn wrapped one arm around my waist, his hand resting just above my navel. With his other hand, he took a cloth and ran it along the curve of my neck, up and down my arm, gently washing away what remained of the blood and dirt.

After a few minutes of absently trailing warm water over my skin and through my hair, his hands stilled near my right shoulder blade, just below the spot where I’d hit the corner of the table during my fight with Andrel.

“This bruise on your back…you didn’t do that to yourself.” It wasn’t a question this time.

I didn’t tell him who had done it.

I didn’t have to.

“I never should have sent you away,” he said, quietly, pressing his face into my hair and breathing deeply.

“You did what you had to do. The situation was unstable…and the gods of this realm are capable of far worse things than bruises.” I knew Andrel was too, but I didn’t say it. I wasn’t ready to talk about that right now.

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