“One, two…” Sear.
I jump, but I can’t feel the pain. A sensation at most. And the smell of burning flesh, which makes me nauseated. I don’t scream. I won’t scream.
“There’s a bucket here if you need to,” Tina says, by my side instantly like a midwife.
I shake my head. I can hear the internal whimpering inside, see the burn on my open hand. The raw wound in my smooth skin. Four more times. It is the tongue I fear the most. I know they will leave this until last, they have told me that already, because it must be the worst.
The skin on my right sole is injected with anesthetic, and I lose all feeling instantly.
Bark moves toward my foot. He looks at my ankle and frowns, seeing my anklet.
“Where did you get this?” he asks.
“Bark,” Tina snaps. “I let her keep it on. Keep moving.”
“No … I … I just … it’s just that I made it. For a young man. For his girlfriend. He said she was perfect.…” He looks at me, realizing.
I recall Art’s telling me when he gave me the anklet that a man at Highland Castle made it for him. Bark is the man who branded me perfect, and the same man who brands me Flawed. We share a long look.
“Bark,” June says sternly.
Bark is momentarily human as his sad eyes pass over mine, and then he snaps out of it.
“Brace yourself,” Tina says gently, hand supportively on my shoulder.
“One, two…” Sear.
I can see my mom crying into a pile of tissues, her composure completely and utterly cracked, smashed, and shattered. My dad is on his feet, pacing. A redheaded guard is near him, keeping a concerned eye on him, ready to step in if Dad crosses the mark. I can’t hear them, but they can hear me. It’s all part of the fear they place on the public. Let them hear my screams. Make a mistake, and you’ll end up like her.
So far I haven’t made a sound, and I won’t.
Bark’s hand comes into sight and injects my chest with the anesthetic. Again, I’m numb. The red-hot poker comes toward me again. I can feel its heat. I feel the familiar squeeze of Tina and realize it has nothing to do with support and is merely procedure. She’s readying me, but by now I’m ready to pass out. The smell is unbearable. It is the smell of my own burning skin.
I feel a blast of air. June has opened a window or something, must be to get rid of the smell of burning flesh. They’re not used to this. I can tell from the anxious looks on their faces. The average Flawed person receives one brand, rarely two. One man in the entire history received three, but never, ever five. I am the only person in the world to receive five. I feel dizzy, but I know I’m not moving. I close my eyes and squeeze tight.
“One, two…” Sear.
I feel like I can’t breathe. I haven’t felt the sting on my chest, but it’s as though psychologically I do. Pressure on my chest so immense I want to escape the constraints. I battle against them, still not making a sound. I refuse. The floor is moving. It’s rising upward. It’s going to hit me in the face.
“Celestine? Celestine, are you okay?” I hear Tina, but I can’t focus on her, her face keeps moving. She’s saying something about the bucket, but I can’t concentrate. I keep thinking of the tongue. I see Clayton Byrne’s tongue as he coughs in my face. I don’t want my tongue to be seared.
Tina tells me to take deep breaths.
“This is too much for her,” Tina says worriedly to Bark, who surprisingly is viewing me with uncertainty, too. “We need to alert someone. Maybe take a break. Do the rest tomorrow.”
“Guys, I know this is hard, but we have to do it,” June says in a low voice. “The longer we chat, the harder it is for her. Let’s not drag it out on her any more. The family is watching,” she adds with a whisper. “Let’s finish this for everybody’s sake.”
An injection in my temple. Quicker this time.
A squeeze on my shoulder. I know that for all time, if anyone squeezes me on the shoulder, it will be the trigger that brings me back to this.
“One, two…” Sear.
I gag. I retch. Smelling burning flesh. My own flesh.
Bark is mumbling something.
“Sweet Jesus,” June says, suddenly changing her mind. “We should be tending to her wounds now. This is taking too long.”
“You’re doing great, Celestine,” Tina says close to my ear. “A real little hero, almost there now, okay? Hang in there.”
I half laugh and half cry.
I look up and see both of my parents and Granddad standing now, in a row at the window, lining up. Distraught, angry faces. Mr. Berry is not pleased. He is pacing. He is on the phone. Probably hearing the guards’ concerns, he is trying to do something about it. Granddad is arguing with the security guard. I can feel the tension in that room from here. I take deep breaths. I will not scream.
“Here.” Bark appears in my line of sight with a bottle of water and a straw. It’s a trick, it must be a trick. Tina guides it into my mouth, and as I suck I think about my tongue being seared. It’s next. I retch again. I can’t hold down the water.
It is pandemonium in the viewing gallery. I can feel their energy, their erratic, angry movements. My eyes move from side to side. I try to focus, but I can’t. I know why I’m here, and then I don’t know why I’m here. I understand, and then I don’t. I think it’s fair, and then I don’t. I wish I’d never done what I’d done, and then I’m glad I did. I want to scream, but I don’t.
Suddenly my family members scatter like a flock of birds, as though something was thrown at them, and then I see Judge Crevan in my face, a smug sneer twisting his mouth. Mr. Berry must have gotten him, tried to stop the inhumanity. Too late, but now he’s here in the Branding Chamber. He blocks my view of my family.
“Had enough, have we, Celestine?”
I groan. I will not cry. Not to him.
They say I’m numbed, but I’m feeling sensations on my wounded body. Tingling. If the anesthetic wears off, it will turn to stinging, then burning. I don’t want it to wear off. Suddenly, this is my main fear. I wish I’d paid more attention to the information in my cell—how long does it take before the anesthetic wears off?
“I warned you. I told you this would happen, but you didn’t listen.”
Crevan’s red robe is the same color as the scar on my hand, and I’m guessing as my foot, chest, and temple. My blood is on his robe. He did this to me. Him. I feel nothing but disgust for him. I used to think that I couldn’t be afraid of someone so human. Now I realize it is his humanity that scares me most, because despite having all those traits, having shared the moments we’ve shared, he could still do this to me. Now I find him terrifying. I see the evil in him.
“Oh, Celestine, it hurts me for you to look at me like that. I’m not the winner, either, you know. Art says he’ll never speak to me again. Heartbreaking for me, as you can imagine. First, I lost Annie, and now Art. And you caused that.”
Don’t speak, I tell myself. One more branding and it will all be over. It will all be over.
“I’m here to give you mercy, Celestine. Say you’re sorry, admit you were wrong, that you are Flawed, and I will cancel the tongue. It’s the worst one, that one. Everybody says so.”
I try to shake my head. But I can’t. I won’t speak. Instead, I stick my tongue out, showing him that I’m ready for the branding.
I see the look of surprise on everyone’s face. Granddad punches the air in defiance, not happy, but bursting with anger. He won’t want me to give in. I’ve come this far; it would be illogical to stop now, I will have gained nothing. I feel tears dripping down the side of my face, but I’m not crying.
“Brand her tongue,” he says coldly, then steps back.
TWENTY-EIGHT
I SEE MY family take a step back from the glass, Crevan’s closeness too much for them.
My family does not sit still. Nor does Mr. Berry, who starts thumping on the window, trying to get Crevan’s attention. My dad shoves the guard, trying to make him do s
omething to stop this, and they end up having a physical fight in the viewing room. I have never seen my dad like this before. Crevan turns around and watches the pandemonium.
“Get the family out of there!” he shouts. Funar appears at the door, and he manages to pull Mom and Granddad from the room. Mr. Berry follows them out, ranting and raving at Funar. Dad is holding his own against the security guard, delivering a blow to his jaw, but suddenly Funar appears again, having taken my family somewhere, probably into the holding room or the nearby cells, and takes Dad by surprise. The two guards gain control and drag Dad out. The viewing room is now empty.
“Oh my God,” June whispers over my shoulder.
“Do it,” Crevan says.
I whimper slightly as they open my mouth and place the clamp in.
“It will be quick, dear,” Tina says, urgency and panic in her voice.
“Step away from her,” he demands angrily.
“If it’s all the same to you, sir, I’d like to do my job and remain by her side,” Tina says, a tremble in her voice.
“Very well.”
An injection in my tongue. It instantly feels swollen and enormous in my mouth. I gag.
“One, two…” Sear.
I don’t scream. I can’t. I haven’t the use of my tongue. I want to kick my legs, stamp my feet, and wave my arms, but I’m restrained and can do nothing. I can just feel my body push against the restraints and hear a sound that I don’t realize until a moment later is coming from me. It is worse than a scream, it is an animal, guttural sound, a groan, a grunt, something so deep inside me, a pain that I have never experienced nor heard before. One I never want to hear again, but I will, over and over in my nightmares.
“Repent, Celestine!” Crevan shouts at me.
I’m unable to get the word out as my tongue is numb and feels swollen and oversized, but I can see that he is distressed now. He is not getting his way. I’m not following his plan. It was for me to say sorry and the branding would stop. I will never say sorry to him.
“Judge Crevan, we must get her to the ward. Her wounds need medical attention,” Tina says, urgency in her voice. “We have never gone on for so long. We must see to her quickly.”
I feel the strap around my head release, and I am able to lift my head from the headrest and look at him directly now.
“Repent!” he shouts at me, louder again.
I shake my head violently. I’ve come this far. It’s finished. I’ll never tell him I’m sorry even if right now it is the thing I am feeling most.
They free my hands and my ankles. They are moving quickly now, wanting to remove me, and probably themselves, from this situation. They start to help me up, Tina on one side, June on the other. Bark begins to clean and tidy away the equipment. They can’t wait to get me out of here. I can’t walk, my foot is completely numb and my legs are shaking so badly. A wheelchair has been placed beside me.
“Brand her spine,” Judge Crevan says suddenly, chillingly.
Bark turns to face him slowly. “Pardon, sir?”
Tina and June freeze, look at each other wide-eyed.
“You heard me.”
“Sir, she’s just a child,” Tina whispers, and I can hear the shake in her voice and sense the tears about to come.
“Do it.”
“Sir, we have never seared a spine before,” Bark says nervously.
“Because we have never seen anyone so Flawed to their very backbone like this lady. Brand. Her. Spine.”
“I can’t do it, sir. I’m afraid I’ll have to check first with the—”
“I am the head of the Guild, and you will do what I say or you will find yourself in my courtroom first thing in the morning. Are you aiding a Flawed?”
Bark freezes.
“Are you?”
“No. No, sir.”
“Then get to it. Brand her spine.”
“But we don’t have any more anesthetic.”
“Do it without.”
“Sir, the law states—”
“I am the law. Do it!” he yells. “By order of the Guild!”
“No!” I protest, but it doesn’t come out like that. My tongue has swollen in my mouth, from injury and numbness. I can taste blood, feel it rolling down my throat. I start coughing. All I can do is whine, but I don’t like the sound I make, so I stop. I see the evil in his eyes, the enjoyment he is getting from this. I won’t let him get any further satisfaction.
It is going to happen, and I must be prepared. I must ignore the madness and the pandemonium that have just occurred in the viewing room, the injustice that is happening in the chamber right now. I must block out the fears I have for what is happening to my family now and find stillness within myself.
Tina and Bark open the ties at the back of my robe.
“Oh dear girl, I am so sorry,” June says, taking hold of my shoulder. “Oh dear God.”
“Stop talking,” Judge Crevan snaps.
Tina takes my unseared left hand in hers tenderly, then holds on for dear life, with her back to Judge Crevan so that he can’t see the tears streaming down her face.
Bark comes toward me with the red-hot poker, looking uncertain.
“Do it,” Judge Crevan says again, then watches me. “Any time you want them to stop, all you have to do is say you’re sorry.”
“She can’t speak, Judge,” Tina says through her tears. “How can she stop it?”
“She can stop it if she wants to,” he says slowly, quietly.
He wants me to call out, to repent. I don’t.
Suddenly, Carrick appears in the viewing room. I can see tears in his black eyes, so I know that he has heard it all. He is panting hard, as though he has run a marathon. Sweat and blood are on his brow, and he has a cut lip. Blood drips down onto his T-shirt. Funar, with a busted nose, struggles in the doorframe behind him, doubled over. Mr. Berry rushes in behind Carrick into the room, his phone in his hand. The security guard who had been battling with my dad runs into the room and jumps at Carrick, but Carrick knocks him out with one fierce blow. The security guard falls to the ground, out cold. Completely outnumbered, Funar doesn’t bother to fight any more and slithers from the room, hand over his pumping nose. Mr. Berry pushes the door closed, and I see his face, and he suddenly looks his age. He is holding his phone up in the air, recording. Crevan hasn’t noticed the activity behind him. Neither Bark, June, nor Tina have alerted him to this.
“Do it,” he says, urgency in his voice, sweat above his lip. “Brand her spine.”
Carrick stands right at the window and looks at me intently, forcing me to hold his gaze. He holds one hand up to the glass, presses it flat. Instantly, I zone out of the madness in this chamber and in my head and focus on the stillness in Carrick’s body. I focus on his hand. The hand of friendship he offered me earlier.
I’ll find you.
At least I have one friend. I am exhausted. I am still. I am ready.
“One, two…” Tina counts me in. But nothing happens. I don’t feel a thing.
“Judge, I can’t do it,” Bark says. “I just can’t. This isn’t right.”
“Fine,” Crevan snaps. “If you won’t do it, I will.” He grabs the iron from Bark’s grasp, and he and Bark swap places, Bark standing where Crevan was, so that he blocks Crevan’s view of Carrick. I can’t take my eyes off Carrick; I won’t take my eyes off Carrick. I take a deep breath.
And as the hot iron touches my spine, the noise I make is the loudest, most excruciating, agonizing, animal sound I have ever heard in my life, and it echoes through the corridors of Highland Castle for all to hear, so anyone and everyone knows Crevan’s poster girl has been branded.
TWENTY-NINE
DAY ONE
I’m home, propped up in my bed by a dozen cushions, organized by Mom, who keeps stepping back to take a look at her work before fluffing and punching again, as if it were a piece of art. If she can’t fix me, she can fix the image around me. This is all for the visit of Dr. Smith, our family GP.
After inspecting my dressings, he sits in the chair by my bed and looks at Mom as he answers her questions.
“A burn of the tongue will look and feel different, depending on the degree of the burn. A first-degree burn injures the outermost layer of the tongue. This leads to pain and swelling. A second-degree burn is more painful because it injures the outermost and under layers of the tongue. Blisters may form, which is what has happened here, and the tongue, as in her case, appears swollen. A third-degree burn affects the deepest tissue of the tongue. The effect is white or blackened, burnt skin. Numbness or severe pain.”
Or both.
Dr. Smith sighs, his friendly grandfather face clearly finding this difficult.
“She appears to have received the correct medical attention at the castle. Her tongue is not infected. The blistering will eventually go away. Her taste buds have been destroyed—”
“Not that she’s eating anyway,” Mom interrupts.
“That’s to be expected. Celestine has been through an ordeal. Her appetite will eventually return, as will her taste buds, which regenerate every two weeks. The severe untreatable pain that she is experiencing now can sometimes lead to feelings of depression and anxiety.”
You don’t say.
Mom purses her lips and lifts her chin. I watch them talk to each other, over me, across my bed, as if I’m not here.
“Most burns heal within two weeks; however, some can last up to six weeks.”
He looks at me sadly, as if remembering I’m here.
“There is one more thing,” he adds. “There is a … sixth brand.…” He seems uncomfortable mentioning it.
Mom looks at him in panic. He leaves the sentence hanging.
“We’ve known each other a long time, Summer,” he says gently. “I’ve seen Celestine and this family through measles and chicken pox, vaccines and whatever else. I can assure you, you have my utmost confidence.”
She nods again, and I can see the fear in her. She wasn’t in the chamber when the final two sears happened, none of my family was, and I don’t want to talk about it. Ever. I don’t even know if Mr. Berry shared it with her. But she’s my mother, and she witnessed enough for her to guess what Crevan did in the state he was in, and she is respecting my silence, though I know Dad wants to know. The question is on the tip of his tongue every time he looks at me, but he holds back, probably holding himself responsible for encouraging me to speak up for myself and landing myself in this agony. I don’t think either of them could imagine, even in their wildest nightmares, that it could be Crevan who delivered the sixth and final brand.
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