The Island

Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Zoie

The world was foggy, and my head hurt. I was rocking side to side and could smell horses. I reached up to rub the back of my head, only to find I couldn't move them very far.

I shot up, looking at my feet to find chains wrapped around them. I looked behind me to see I was in a wagon, the chains rattling, drawing the attention of the person who was leading the horse,

"You're awake," the driver said, her voice grave

"Where am I, why am I chained, who are you?"

"One question at time, poppet," she lowered her voice, "My name is Poma, and I'm taking you to the Palace. As for the chains, you'll have to ask Tillie."

"Tillies here? Where, is she okay?" I was frantic now, I hadn't seen Tillie since I woke up

"Look at the wagon in front of us, she's in there."

I twisted awkwardly to see her, but I saw her, someone sitting beside her and watching her.

Tillie.

She looked different, and I couldn't tell why until a lantern was lit inside the wagon she was in.

Horn poked from her head, wings from her back.

"She's Gifted," I said, not really a question, but Poma answered anyways.

"So are you, poppet"

I looked behind me, spotted the wings, and nearly cried out.

"I'm a Wraith?"

I watched Poma nod, and another question burned on my tongue.

"How long have we been on the Island?"

"Nearly half a year."

Oh, Tillie.

"Tillie!" A voice shouted from the other wagon, shaking her "Tillie, wake up!"

I saw why they were shouting moments later, blood started dripping down Tillie's arm, her hands gripping her shoulders.

Her night terrors.

"Tillie!" I shouted, climbing to the front bench, causing the boy that was watching her look at me.

Tillie woke up, panting, leaning into the boy, who whispered something in her ear, making her whip her head toward my wagon.

I watched her mouth my name, bringing a clawed hand to her mouth as she started crying, the talons shrinking as she shuffled forward, the boy helping her stand.

Why couldn't she do it herself?

Why did she look like she hadn't seen the sun in months?

Who did this to her?

Despite her having wings, she didn't fly over, instead, our two wagons stopped, and she crossed into mine.

"Zoie?" She whispered I could see now the multiple cuts on her arms and legs. Her wings were closed as if she was hiding something from me, "How much do you remember?"

I racked my brain for the most recent memory, taking longer than I would've liked

"The camp, when you found me. But after that, it's nothing."

"Darling, I'm so sorry," She hung her head, the cuts on her shoulders no longer bleeding "I didn't tell you their names, or let you into the courtroom."

"Oh Firefly," I whispered, planting a kiss on her forehead "I figured you'd tell me when you were ready, and while I wish you'd done it before the Island, I understand."

She leaned her head against my chest, her horns glistening in the low light of the lantern. All I wanted to do was hold her hand, to pull her close to me, but the chains where stopping me,

"Why am I in chains?" I asked, leaning against the bench, looking at the sky above us.

"You were under his control, all that time you can't remember, you weren't you." She let out a sigh, gripping my shirt, "You tried to kill Kirklyn and Zain, I had to get the chains on you to make your powers stop. I'm sorry." Her hands traced the seam if the cuff, she pressed gently on the end, and as they snapped off, my hands shot for her face, and I pulled her face to mine, kissing her hard on the mouth. My hand went down to her back, and she winced.

"Firefly?" I said, instantly removing my hand, "What is it?"

"No more secrets. I'm sick of hiding these things from you." She said, turning and lifting the back of her shirt, showing me the three crudely sewn gashes down her back, surrounded by several smaller ones. Bruises covered her sides as if someone had used her as a punching bag, I didn't need her to turn to show me they covered her stomach too, but she still did.

"Everyday, for the past three months, Mark tortured me. He opened the cuts from Ian, sometimes he would open my night terrors scars, or he would create new ones." She lowered her shirt, and I saw the new cuts on her collarbone. "But what hurt more than the cutting, was that he made you watch, he used you to get to me."

She was crying now, hesitating to lean back into me, I was just noticing how the dark circles under her eyes, the cuts covering her face. I knew some of those cuts went more than skin deep. Wisps and tendrils of shadow brushed around us as I covered us with my wings, hoping to protect her from whatever came next.