When he speaks again, his voice is softer. “Because of the deliria?” I know if I say yes he’ll feel good. I take the first step into the coolness and shade. There are stairs cut in the side of the tower, winding up and up. I picture a tall tower, smooth-sided, stretching all the way to the sky. “He died,” I say shortly, because that is what Julian wants to hear. More silence, then: “It was him, wasn’t it? He’s the one who got you sick.” “You were calling for Alex,” Julian says, and I feel a small spasm of pain in my stomach. Raven and Alex were there, and there was an animal, too, something enormous we had killed. I squeeze my eyes closed, tight, until little bursts of color appear behind my eyelids. His voice is still cold, although it has lost some of its edge. “Is that even your real name?” Julian asks, after a pause.
It has been days since I’ve showered, and the room is full of a close, animal smell. Julian has moved his cot toward the door, pressed it against the wall, as far away from me as possible. “Welcome to the resistance, Lena,” he whispers to me. Then Bram places one hand on my forehead, angling my chin up to the sky, hard, and he’s bending over me, blade in hand, and I can feel its tip just pressing into the space behind my left ear, and I want to cry out but I can’t, and I want to run but I can’t do that, either. “Wait-,” I try to say, but I can’t choke the word out past the leather. “Bite on this,” Bram says, and suddenly there is a strip of leather going into my mouth. I’m too frightened to try and struggle, and I know it wouldn’t do any good. Bram is holding the metal tool, newly sterilized, and its blade seems to catch all the light from the fire behind him, and glow hot and white and terrible.
The fear is causing a new fire in my chest. But it will be over quickly, okay? Just trust us.” “It’s important that you stay very still,” Raven says. Their hands grip me tightly from both sides.