Page 57 of Spark of Madness

Her voice is quiet. “I don’t want to die, Mercy. I want to live, but I...Not likethat...I can’t live the life of a servant. How have you survived that life this long? How have you done it?”

“Truthfully, I don’t know. I’ve just done what I have to do to survive.”

She swallows hard and pulls her shoulders back, bringing her hands to her thighs. She sniffles before forcing a determined expression. “I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to serve, not ever again. If it means I die in the trials, I have to at least take that chance. I have to—” Her voice breaks as fear cuts through the determination and widens her hazel eyes.

I watch as the realization hits her, as the reality of her decision takes hold, as the thought of death and what that truly means strikes her. Her breaths quicken and sharpen, and her fingers move restlessly against her thighs.

She’s not prepared to die—of course, she isn’t.

“Mercy, I can’t—” She takes in a rasping breath as she falls into a panic.

“Okay.” I reach for her calmly, grabbing hold of her wrist and tugging her gently forward. “It’s okay, come here.”

I guide her down to the floor in front of me and wrap my arms around her, hugging her fiercely as she breaks apart. My breath catches in my lungs and tears spring to my eyes, but I force my emotions away, swallow them deep into my soul.

I stroke her soft ashen hair as she sobs, as we both drop from our knees to sit on the floor, and I cradle her against my chest. I let her release. I wait until her tears have all been spilled, until her breathing slows and steadies, until she starts to come back through the panic.

I don’t know how long we sit like this. I only know it feels like an eternity that I have to force my own fears and pain and heartache away so she can release hers in the safety of my presence.

“I want to ask you a question,” I say calmly, stroking her hair.

She nods against my chest, and I feel her tug away. I let go of my hold so she can pull back and sit up to look at me.

I give her a small, comforting smile. “If there were a way…” I hesitate in my words, not sure how to frame them, not yet sure whether they’re worth anything. I tuck her hair behind her ear in my pause. “If there were a way for someone to take on this burden for you…if someone could take this pain away from you and allow you the chance at a domestic life without going through the horror of the trials…If someone wanted to do that for you and offered it, would you let them?”

Her forehead wrinkles in confusion, and I know I’m not being clear, that I’m not making any sense.

“What do you mean?”

“If someone else could go through the trials for you and give you the chance at a domestic life, would you allow them to do it for you?”

“Mercy, I don’t understand what you’re asking me.”

“I just need to know, Delle. If there were some way I could bear it all for you, would you allow me to do that? Would you promise me you’d go on and live your happy domestic life after it’s all over, after I’m gone, without shame or guilt?”

“How could I ever answer a question like that?” I see tears fill her eyes again, but the way they flicker with the possibility of living without this fear tells me exactly what I need to know.

I shake my head. “Never mind.” I don’t want to force an answer from her. I won’t make her say it when I already know what it is. “It’s an impossible question.”

Butmaybe the answer isn’t impossible.

I was sentenced to this, and she chose it. She was braver than I ever could have been, and that should be enough for her. It should be enough for her to be given the domestic life she deserves to have. I was given no choice, and I don’t think I would’ve been as brave as Delle to choose this if presented with the opportunity. But I can find my bravery in her honor now; I’ll meet her courage with my own and fight for the impossible.

I LEAVE DELLEtucked in her bed—she was so exhausted that I insisted she climb into it and get some rest for a few hours before dinner. Closing the door behind me, I run my knuckles beneath my eyes, catching and dragging what’s left of my tears. I let out a heavy, shuddering breath before finding the strength to move.

I enter my bedroom one door down, and head directly to the bathroom. Looking into the mirror above the sink, I note that my eyes are a little red and the skin beneath them is puffy from crying. I can’t go to Arlo looking this way. I need to convince him to help me, and to do that, I need to appeal to him.

I need to tempt him.

If I can tempt him to sin with me again, then perhaps I can hold it over his head, blackmail him into helping me convince the Control to let me save Delle. Even with his help, it’s unlikely they’ll let me do the trials twice to spare her the burden of going through it. Even if they allowed it, I’d probably die before I’m able to complete them and save her.

The odds are stacked against me, as close to zero as they can be. I don’t even know if blackmailing Arlo would work. I truthfully don’t know that any of his brothers in God would care if I told them he used my body outside of service—or if they would even believe a sinner like me. But I don’t know what else to do, and I have to try something. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try something, anything, to spare her.

This is the only thing I can think to do. It’s the only plan that I have.

Tempt him.

Make him sin.

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