The Seven Markets (38 page)

“Broken bones, a bunch of organs to replace. Your left hand’s in fine shape, interestingly enough. Not sure how you managed to pull that one off. Anyway, nothing we can’t fix, so long as you’re safe in here. Brings you back, doesn’t it?”

“My parents? Joshua? Cutter?”

“Everyone’s fine. Your mom’s sweet.”

Ellie felt the weight of years drop from her shoulders. She fell back into the cushions of her favorite chair and wept with relief.

“I didn’t want to come back,” she said after composing herself. “I was free—finally free. No more Prince, no more Market. No more fighting.” One of the dogs piled into her lap. She rubbed the skin behind its ears, savoring the wintry smell of its bristly coat. “But I couldn’t stay away. It was all my fault, Bo. All of it.”

“Ellie, you didn’t—”

“Didn’t what?” she said, cutting Bo off. “Didn’t sacrifice the lives of good men over my pathetic little war? Didn’t march an army into the Market without a single thought for the innocent people I’d hurt? Sure I did.”

Bo stood and came over to join Ellie on the couch. “You came back, didn’t you? Give yourself credit for that much, at least. You tried to make it right.”

“Putting out the fire I started is hardly heroic.”

“It’s more than most would do,” Bo said.

“Too little, too late.”

Bo punched her shoulder. Ellie felt it throughout her entire body, as if her injuries in the real world were somehow agitated by her doctor’s virtual punch. “Ow!”

“Serves you right.”

Ellie could have booted her out then; she probably would have once upon a time. Instead she rubbed her sore shoulder and thought about banishing the comfortable sitting room. A moment’s thought and Bo would find herself outside in the cold, knee-deep in fresh snow. In her underwear. But she left the sitting room where it was. The fire kicked and writhed, the program perhaps affected by her state of mind.

“I came back,” she said. “But I didn’t want to.”

“It’s enough, Ellie. It’s enough if you let it be.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Bo said. “Promise you won’t start any more wars and we’ll call it even, okay?”

Ellie thought for a long while before answering. “I think I can live with that,” she said. And was pleased to find it was the truth.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,

and incidents are either the product of the author’s
 

imagination or are used fictitiously, and any

resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,

business establishments, events, or locales is

entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2012 David Hoffman

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced,

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ISBN: 978-0-9885959-1-0