Firebomb (The Jewel Project #2)

17.1|| The man behind the suit

Chapter seventeen

The Man behind the Suit

Even if Ron had promised to return, Tom was left alone for the rest of the day. He divided his time between falling unconscious and trying to regain the use of his limbs. Fortunately, he wasn't hungry and he'd found a bottle of water in the corner of the cell. After inhuman efforts, he'd managed to stand, but decided not to share that aspect with Ron, just in case he'd have to tear through him to escape.

Though escape wasn't really an option. Tom had thought about it long and hard. He was in no condition to go anywhere, and even if he miraculously managed to limp his way out, he had no idea where the others were. Death by elements wasn't high on his list.

The door opened, snapping Tom out of his schemes. Ron entered the room, carrying a tray of food and seeming a lot more relaxed than last time.

"Hi," he said joyfully and this time unlocked and entered the cage without checking whether Tom could attack him. "I brought you some food," he added, pointing to the tray unnecessarily and putting it down in front of him.

"Thanks," Tom said weakly, looking at the contents of the tray. It looked like some broth and the smell of boiled potatoes made his stomach churn uncomfortably. "But I'm not sure I can eat anything just yet. I'm a bit queasy."

Ron nodded. "I guessed you would be. You have to drink this first. It'll make you all better." He threw him a phial.

Out of reflex, Tom reached out and caught it in his left hand without any difficulty.

"You're doing much better I see," Ron said shrewdly. He sat, leaning against the opposite wall.

"I still can't attack you, in case you're wondering about that." Tom analyzed the phial. It contained a reddish liquid. "What's this?"

"Cherry syrup," Ron answered flatly. "I don't know, it's some medicine Snitch Gravel gave me. He said you should take it before eating."

"Are you sure it's not poison or liquid crack or something?" Tom asked warily.

"I couldn't know. Snitch Gravel made it and he's never failed so far." Ron shrugged.

"Snitch Gravel made this?" Now he was sure it was poison.

"It's not poison. Look, I could taste it for you if you want, but it will screw up the dosage."

Tom squinted at him. Ron could be lying. But, then again, Snitch Gravel wouldn't poison him. He'd make a show of his murder. Counting on that shaky piece of logic, Tom popped the lid off the phial and smelled the liquid. It didn't smell like anything. He then took a sip and ran it around his mouth. It tasted a little bitter but didn't numb his tongue or anything. Shrugging, he downed the rest of the potion.

"How do you feel?" Ron asked warily.

"Like I'm dying." If he had enough energy, Tom would've acted it out too, just for the hell of it.

Ron's eyes widened and Tom stifled a laugh.

"Nah, I actually feel a little less sick and a little more hungry," he said, picking up the tray and gobbling down the broth. It wasn't bad at all. Needed a bit more salt, but beggars can't be choosers.

"You suck," Ron said, though he seemed on the verge of laughing himself.

"How much time do you have today?" Tom asked between mouthfuls.

"A half an hour, if not more." Ron heaved a sigh. "I've been wondering how to start, so I'm just going to explain some things to you. What I told Sam when we met was true. I did come to see you because I've heard about you from the papers and I was curious what that was all about. I was sure I would find a bunch of big-headed, spoiled brats."