Superior

Chapter 5- Sant' Andrea Della Valle

   It feels like someone has cut off my brain cord and I’ve lost control of my body. I keep screaming, crying, lurching forward like I still need to save her. My brain is ahead of my body, though, and it knows the truth. There’s no use trying anymore.

   Spruce is dead.

   Someone begins to pull at my shoulders, tugging me up against my will. I don’t want to stand. I just want to lie down here in the mud and let it cover me like a blanket. That’s where I belong. Not under a fluffy comforter, under the dirt. Dead.

   The tugging feeling stops for a second, and then someone’s arms are around me. They pull me up as if I weigh nothing at all and carry me away from the stage. I burry my head up against their chest and sob quietly for as long as I can. The heat gradually disappears and something soft like a bed finds its way up under me. The person, who I assume is Luke, sits next to me and holds me while I shudder. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, I find myself cried out.

   “She’s gone, Luke,” I mutter somberly.

   The person holding me pulls back. “Luke?” asks a tiny voice.

   Instantly I jerk backwards, fearing my captor. Then I realize it’s the boy working for Rufinus. “Who are you?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.

   “I’m Redding. Uh—Freedman. From Mississippi,” he stumbles. Finally it hits me: He’s the first boy that was sold at the auction.

   “You… you were on stage with me,” I say.

   “At the auction?” he asks. “I didn’t see you.” He says it like he has no idea how I could have slipped his vision.

   “Well, about ten minutes after you left I got clobbered,” I say, pointing to my bruise. It’s still sore, but it doesn’t look as bad as it did yesterday. Still, it earns a grimace out of Redding.

   “Did he—“ Redding looks toward the door. “Was it Luke?”

   “No! No, it was…” I feel a new round of tears coming on and quickly clear my throat to chase them away. “It was Spruce’s master.” My words come out quiet and thick, like my throat is lined with sandpaper.

   Redding looks down. “I’m so sorry.”

   My eyes begin to burn, but I force myself to say, “It’ll be okay.” A few tears escape me and drip onto the bed. I sniff and say again, quietly, “It’ll be okay.”

   Redding remains quiet for a long time. Then he says, “You can’t think too much about it.”

   “What?”

   “My uh, my best friend got picked to come here last summer. I thought he was so lucky. That the Royals would treat him better than anyone.” Redding’s eyes darken. “Then the job rotation ended, and all the boys came back from Royal country. Everyone but him.”

   I stare at Redding. For the first time I realize there is a scar on his face. It runs from the top of his forehead to the inside of his eye. When Redding looks back up I can barely see it, but I know it’s still there.

   “I’m sorry,” I say quietly, almost unconsciously.

   “I learned to move on. You will too.”

   My eyes begin to sting again, but I keep my head down to hide it from Redding. “She was my someone.”

   Hesitantly, Redding asks, “What?”

   I suck in a deep breath and say, “I thought I had no one. I never knew my parents or any siblings, never bothered to make friends. I felt so alone… but all that time I had Spruce. And I never even knew it.”