Half of Ruby

Chapter 18

You're still the most human woman I've ever met. 

The words echoed around in Ember's head as the aching in her stomach grew, as the freezing chilliness of the prison sent a shiver through her thin frame. How cold would it be at night? 

She turned over Gus—no, Ronan's—words in her head. His story. His plan. There were so many details he'd left out—the exact identities of the businessman and noblewoman, his childhood on Barbados....

And yet she'd learned so much from it. 

A marriage which would benefit both of us. 

Or would it? 

How would the witches react to such a proposal? Ember might as well have condemned all of them to death by attacking Arnold. Ronan's excuse of an alliance now seemed paltry, feeble. 

There were so many young women in Salem. Why would he choose someone like her? Not just a witch, but a witch sentenced to death? A strange feeling washed over Ember's body, warm against her skin and metallic—in a curiously delicious way—in her mouth. 

It took her a while to pinpoint it, but when she did, it just strengthened.

Pride.

Someone had recognized her, had deemed her as special. Someone had chosen her from an array of others. Someone wanted her. 

But why me? 

Who am I? 

I am a witch. I am seventeen years old. I am sentenced to death. I attacked an official. I may or may not be controlled by a supernatural entity. I am arrested. I don't feel guilty. 

I am Ember. 

Ember smiled, sparking a dim golden glow with the tip of her finger. 

The light bounced off an abandoned heap of metal on the ground, and with a jolt, she realized that Gus hadn't bound up her wrists after he'd left. 

Ember held up her wrists, staring at them with wide eyes. Her magic, now freed from the chains, had already begun to heal the raw burns on her skin. Her fingertips still throbbed—those blisters would take a while to fix. 

Why didn't he tie me up again? She knew she could just escape now—just break and jump out of the window. 

So why wasn't she? 

Ember squeezed her eyes shut. 

She had a sense of duty. She had promised Ronan.

And she just didn't want to run.

The reason burnt more than the chains Ronan had freed her from.

Footsteps cut through the darkness, loud and heavy. Brutus. She could hear the enticing jangle of keys by his side—keys she'd ached to seize just an hour ago. 

Those keys rattled at her doorway, taunting her, and Brutus flung open the door. Ember blinked as a wave of light crashed into the room again. 

"I see you haven't died from the stench yet," he said. "Here—have some dinner." He slid a metal tray across the floor.

Then his eyes fell upon her chains. 

"Did you break out from them?" 

Ember shook her head. "He freed me," she whispered. 

Brutus narrowed her eyes, then stepped back out into the doorway. The door slammed shut behind him, darkness claiming Ember's vision again. 

Ember sank down to the floor and pulled the tray towards her, surveying its contents. A coarse slice of whole wheat bread and a hunk of stinking meat about the size of her fist rested next to a tin cup of a musty water.