Copperback (26 page)

I
was finally led to a small room consisting of six men. A single light shone
down in the center, doing more to hide the features of the room’s occupants
than reveal them. Two of the men were backed against the entrance, guarding the
door to keep us from leaving, and prevent others from coming in. The light hit
them more brilliantly than the others, showing their soft, young skin and
blank, ageless faces.

The
other four men stood on the opposite side of the room. Three of them looked
like they were in their fifties or sixties. Their hair had gone grey or white.
The fourth person making up the council looked to be about Job’s age, yet he
was larger and more threatening than any of the others. His skin was darker in
comparison, creating deeper shadows around him. From where I stood, the golden
glow in their eyes was about the only thing I could see of them.

Even
in the dim lighting, I sensed this room was different from the others. The
floor was more uneven, and large conical stalactites hung from almost every
space; some of the longer ones had to be broken off to make room to walk. Green
and muddy brown stalagmites grew up from the ground, surrounding the room, but
they, too, had been broken off at various places, making the appearance of
seats. With eight of us in the room, the space was even smaller than at first
glance, and the cool air was stifled by the warm bodies in it.

Job
stopped near the door, allowing me to cross in front of him and walk toward the
center. The white noise from the grand room we had just left carried into the
small grotto. I turned to look at Job, standing motionless behind me, keeping
his eyes diverted from looking at me. It was hard to gaze at him, knowing I was
going to lose him forever.

One
of the elderly men stepped towards me, giving me a better view. I expected a
council to be decorated in special clothing, something other than the human’s
variety. This councilman, however, was wearing blue flip flops, dingy khakis,
and a green polo with short sleeves. It was pretty average for summertime dress,
out on the street. The glaring mark on his hand said he had been part of the
slavery. His stare was cold, lacking emotion. The frown he wore accentuated the
lines on his face, showing his age even more. He leaned forward, talking to the
men behind me, pointing to Job. The hiss of his voice sounded husky and aged to
me, even though he wasn’t using my language. I looked back again to see Job
answer him in the same static, with more of a somber tone. Even though the
conversation was impossible to understand, the feeling behind it was clear.

“I
need an interpreter. I don’t speak that language,” I piped up, hoping they
would let Job get closer to me, to help translate.

“We
can speak English, as well as a few other languages. It won’t be necessary,”
the flip-flop man answered, looking back at me. “Job tells me you are going to
leave willingly. We just want to make sure you will keep our secret safe.” His
face softened slightly.

“Can
I stay? Do I have a choice?” I asked, wanting the chance to voice my opinion
before being forced into going. I was determined to convince them to change
their minds.

“Yes.
You do. You can return to the surface and leave, pretend that you never saw us…or
you can stay, and we will end your life.” The wrinkled lines of his lips
hardened with his last words.

My
heart beat hard against my chest. I had so little time to make my own choice,
yet Job was certain that he was making the right one for me. I knew in my heart
that if I left, I would pine away each day worse than I did for my mother,
knowing he was out there, and I couldn’t have him. Eventually, there would be
nothing left but an empty hull; a body without a soul. If he ever did find me,
there wouldn’t be anything left to love, and it would have given him a false
hope that this had been for the best. I couldn’t live, knowing I had done that
to him. I couldn’t be without him in my life.

“Can
I have a moment with Job before I decide, since it’s the last time I’ll get to
see him?”

“Yes,
but be quick, or we will make the decision for you.”

I
turned around to look at him, as my hand found the necklace – the small penny
with a heart shaped hole. It was supposed to be his way of saying I was his,
but it was turning into just another thing to remember him by. Part of me
wanted to tear it from my neck and toss it on the ground, as a sign of how I
felt at being ripped from him. But I couldn’t give into my anger at him right
now. Instead, I undid the clasp and held it in my hand. As warm as it had been
against my neck, it felt shockingly cool in my sweaty hand. I had made a choice
that he was not going to like, and I didn’t know how to soften the blow.

As
I walked up close, I watched how the light touched his face, making it appear angelic.
I was never going to have another chance to tell him how I felt. I had put it
off too long. Staring longingly at his eyes, I waited for him to turn his
attention to me. The anguish was eating at him. He was building up a front so
he could hold back how he really felt.

“I
don’t know why you’re doing this.” My tone was harsh to grab his attention.

 “I
already told you to go back.” His torment was still there in the background,
masked with anger.

“You
know as well as I do there is never going to be a law passed, as long as the
Vesper have a say. You know I will never see you again, and I know you’re lying
about forgetting me and moving on. I just need to tell you something.”

His
silence spoke for itself. As much as I needed to say the words, he didn’t want
to hear them. The guilt of getting caught in the lie was overwhelming, and even
without any special ability to feel his deep down emotion, it was obvious by
the look on his face.

“I
love you,” I said, without thinking. The words just sprang from my mouth. I
loved him so much, and was finally able to tell him. I had no more doubts or
questions looming over my head. I wanted everything about him, perfect or
flawed. It would be the first – and the last – time I ever fell in love. He
completed me in a way I never knew could be possible.

“I
love you, too,” he said, touching my face with his hand. I could feel it
shaking. He remained strong, even though I had broken down his façade and
forced him to admit that he was having a hard time with this as well. My eyes
welled up with tears, afraid of how he would react to my next sentence. I
didn’t want to see his face when I said what I needed to say, yet I couldn’t
look away. I pulled his hand into mine and put the necklace in it, wrapping the
chain around his fingers. He clenched it tight, looking down and then back at
me, curious as to why I would give it up. Why was I giving back the small piece
of him that he wanted me to hold onto forever?

“O
happy dagger. This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die,” I whispered to
him.

In
a split second, the love burning in his eyes turned to horror. He had never
finished the book, yet he knew what I said, what was meant. I couldn’t live
without him.

“No.
You can’t. I won’t let you. You have to stop. You have to leave.”

He
came alive, frantic with purpose.  He grabbed me roughly, as though to pull me
from the room.  The guards, alerted into action by Job’s agitation, each seized
one of his arms, pulling him back, forcing him to release me. I gave him one
last look before turning around. I knew if I stared at him too long, it would
be harder to let go, and I would give in to his wish. Facing the men of the
council, I could hear Job begging behind me. I stepped away, listening to the
struggle he was putting up against the two guards. In his rage, he had
forgotten the copper would make it impossible for him to shift away from them,
giving them a chance to subdue him before he could do anything to stop me.
Without having to look back, I knew they had a solid hold on him – preventing
him from running forward. His voice kept changing from English to white noise
as he pleaded with me, and them, to stop.

“I’ll
take her,” he said. “Please. Don’t let her do this. She – she doesn’t mean it. You
have to make her stop.”

One
of the guards called out loudly, and there was a great deal of noise as others came
into the room, with the goal of holding Job down.

“Emily,
don’t do this,” he said. “I’ll leave with you. We can go right now. I won’t
stay.”

As
much as I believed him and knew he would do it, I couldn’t let him. I turned
around to see that there were now four of them holding onto him. They were
grasping his arms, trying to yank him back. Fueled by fear, he nearly dragged
them across the stone. Job threw one of them off, to become a splash of sand as
he hit the floor. The guard was resilient, though, and reformed immediately,
picking himself back up and grabbing Job yet again, making him slide back. As
strong as Job was, he was no match for their numbers.

 “You’re
right, Job,” I said. “You belong here. They need you. And you’re safe. If you
leave with me, we will have to run for the rest of our lives. I can’t let you
do that.”

His
eyes started to fill with tears of his own. I couldn’t watch anymore. I didn’t
want him to see me being executed. I wanted him to leave. I had no choice but
to turn away, before I could give in. For once in my life, I had to be strong
on my own.

The
council remained distant and unattached. They ignored Job, putting their
attention back on me.

“I
made my decision,” I said. “I’m going to stay.”

Another
scream from Job, telling me to stop – this time in hysterics.

“You
know if you stay, you will die,” the man in flip-flops insisted. “Nothing is
going to change that.”

“I
know.” I was scared, but I was doing what felt right to me.

Job
gave the last little bit of energy he had left in him to attempt to break free
and stop what I was doing. I could hear him strain against the guards, only to
be met with stronger resistance – this time taking him to the ground.

The
councilman turned away and spoke with the remaining three, giving them my answer.
They talked between themselves for a bit – dragging this out for far too long,
in my opinion. I began to think I might reconsider the options and change my
mind, but deep down inside, I knew how I felt. I was going to stand firm and
take whatever death they decided on.

Job
was still carrying on in the background, but his voice had become less
demanding and was growing weaker. I could hear the sobs in his voice as he gave
up the battle. Each word he choked on sounded like he was dying inside.

“Stop
– please. I love you. Don’t – don’t do this. I can’t–”

I
was just as choked up, but I refused to turn around and give him reason to fight
on. I couldn’t bear to see him this distraught.

The
flip-flop man nodded to the others and turned back to face me, still ignoring
Job’s requests. He said something to the guards and I could hear the scuffling
noises on the ground as they dragged Job out of the room. It didn’t sound like
he was fighting anymore. He had given up. The flip-flop man gave his full
attention to me once he knew Job was gone.

“Why
would you give your life up, when you can go home and forget about us?” he
asked. His tone was neither lighthearted nor angry. It had just been a simple
question that he wanted an answer for.

“I’m
in love with Job,” I said without faltering. I gave him as much eye contact as
I could, so he knew I was telling the truth. I tried to read his face, but he
was still so neutral that I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“How
can you love someone you hardly know?” the flip-flop man questioned. “Are you
sure you are not just in love with the fact that he might need you again?”

“I
just do. I can’t explain how love works. I’m not sure anyone can. If you had
asked me a week ago, I would have told you ‘no,’ but now I’m certain. I don’t
want him to need me. I only want him to love me.”

I
wasn’t sure if I was giving the right answer. I had no idea what he was looking
for, or why.

He
turned back to the other three still shrouded in the darkness, beginning
another conversation I was unable to comprehend. Even though the sounds made no
sense to me, I could still pick up on the tones of their voices. The flip-flop
man sounded as though he was asking questions as the others replied. It sounded
as though the three older members were in some sort of agreement, but after
they had finished, the other spoke up in a deep, angry voice, asking more
questions.

Even
though I couldn’t make out the detail of his form, it was clear by his crossed
arms and standoffish poise that he was not happy about something. Everything
the others said was answered with an increasingly gruffer tone, until finally he
yelled at them and swiftly walked towards me.

I
could feel the fear of my death increasing as he got closer. I knew this would
be the end, but there was nothing else I could do but wait for it to come.

He
stopped short of me, within arm’s reach, ready to reach out and snap my neck at
any second. I gasped as I looked up at his previously-hidden features. He
didn’t need to explain his hatred of my race – his face told his story. It had
been mauled by some unimaginable torture he had endured, twisting his mouth and
left eye in a tangle of white scars. The anger and disgust burned in his dark
brown eyes, lacking compassion.