Page 78 of Spark of Madness

“Careful,” he says, holding his torch out ahead of us with an outstretched arm. “It’s a long way down.”

I lean forward, gazing out in the direction of his light. Looking down, I see the rock beneath our feet drop off into a vast darkness just a few steps ahead. When I realize how close we are to falling off the edge, it startles me, and I scurry backward toward the arched stone opening we came through.

I look over at him with confusion, and a sudden fear punches through my chest, shocking my lungs, quickening my breaths into anxious panting.

Why did he bringme here?

Why did he bring me here alone?

I look over my shoulder, but all I can see is black without the glow of the torch. I can’t run from him. Even if I could see, I don’t remember the path we traveled, and I’d never find my way back. I’d be lost in these tunnels forever. My palm jumps up to press over my heart, willing the pounding muscle to steady.

In the glow of his torchlight, his dimples crease as a grin I haven’t seen in weeks spreads across his scruffy cheeks. “Mercy. I didn’t bring you here to push you over the edge…at least, not in the way you think.”

“Are you trying to frighten me?”

“I’m not trying to frighten you. There’s no reason for you to be frightened. Though, I will admit, my intention is to spark adrenaline.”

I blow out a breath through rounded lips. “You’ve succeeded.”

“Good.”

Arlo takes a step toward me, lifting his torch and placing it on a bracket fixed to the rock wall beside me. He drops his messenger bag and reaches out his gloved hand to me. I swallow the lump of residual fear and slowly lift my hand from my chest to drop my palm on top of his. His hand closes around mine, and he gently tugs me toward him. I take a careful step as he guides me closer, my eyes glued to my feet.

“Do you trust me?” His free hand floats up to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind my ear, and it sends a cold shiver down my spine.

“I don’t know,” I tell him truthfully.

“I’ll need you to trust me during your trial.”

“Why? It’s my trial, not yours.”

“It’s your trial, but I’m going to look after you.”

“I don’t need you to...you should look after Delle, if anyone. I don’t know how she’s going to get through this.”

“She’s much stronger than you give her credit for. In any case, Theo will look after her. It’s you I’m worried about.”

There’s a flurry of feeling in my belly, an odd sense of pride that he has concern for me at all. Then I wonder if that means he thinks I’m weak, and my brow furrows in scrutiny.

“Why are you worried about me? You don’t think I’m strong?”

“I have no concerns about your strength. I’ve seen firsthand how powerful your mind is over the past several weeks. Your strength is impressive. It’s your grit and your tenacity that worry me because you’re the sinner my brothers truly want to punish. You’ve been so concerned over Delle that you haven’t really prepared yourself for the fact that she’s secondary in this. I don’t want to frighten you, but you need to understand how my brothers speak of you.”

“How do they speak of me?”

“With great anticipation to defile you. They have no respect for you. All you are to them is a sinner on her way to the grave.” He takes in a shuddering breath. “They see you as nothing more than a shell of a human, fallen from God’s good graces, a body they’re meant to desecrate in His honor.”

As he speaks, my heartbeat crescendos, and I imagine I can hear the sound of it echoing through the empty space in the cavern, each beat bouncing all around us. I watch the blue in his bright eyes swirl in the glow of firelight. I look for deception, for any trace of warning that he’s only trying to frighten me. I see nothing but truth…truth and concern.

I’m suddenly overcome with awareness of how I’ve neglected myself, which was only partly intentional. I chose in many ways to put Delle’s well-being ahead of my own because I’m so fearful for her and all she’s going to face in these trials. I’ve focused on her to spare myself from fear. But I don’t feel regretful about it, not in the least.

Yet I’m overcome with emotion by the reality of how I’m viewed by the Control. The truth is harsh spilling from Arlo’s lovely lips in this strange, dark place. And being separated from Delle now, I can feel the weight of the truth I’ve been ignoring slowly lowering onto my shoulders, sitting heavily, and pushing me down.

A shell of a human…

Fallen from God’s good graces…

A body they’re meant to desecrate…

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