Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1004(@200wpm)___ 803(@250wpm)___ 669(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1004(@200wpm)___ 803(@250wpm)___ 669(@300wpm)
So I spend the next minute running everything he just said through my head. Of course, this is not enough time to come to any kind of conclusion about any of it, but it does keep the ideas and words fresh so I can think about what it all means later.
He comes back shirtless and wearing a pair of loose pants. I get a good look at the tattoos when he climbs into bed. Some of them are words, but I don’t have enough time to read them. I do have time to notice, however, that a lot of the tattoos are covering up scars.
He notices me noticing and points to the ceiling. “I’ve been shot with the fuckin’ darts twice. The tattoos are just a way to pretty it all up.”
I look up at the darts that are still lodged in the ceiling from when I tripped and shot his weapon. They are almost all inside the weird painting of the Sparktopia tower, making it look like a target. I imagine what it might be like to have them sticking out of my body. “Twice?” I look at him. “Why?”
“War. Anyway, we’re back on foot massages. Turn and lie that way”—he points to the foot of the bed—“and put your feet in my lap.”
When I hesitate—because I’m suddenly trying to come up with reasons why this foot massage doesn’t need to happen—he takes my pillow and throws it down at the foot of the bed. “Come on. Do it. I promise, you’ll be thanking me later.”
I don’t see a good way out of this without coming off as childish, so I change position, my head on the pillow at the foot of the bed, and put my feet in his lap. “This is crazy.”
“It’s not crazy. This is spa treatment, tower-ruin Clara Birch.”
I smile, despite how uncomfortable I feel.
But then he takes my foot into his hand and I nearly jump out of my skin, the sensation is so unexpected.
“You’re ticklish?”
“I don’t know.” I’m suddenly out of breath. “I never thought I was.”
“Ya learn somethin’ new every day. Now keep still. You’ll get over it. I’m not trying to tickle ya.”
I close my eyes, wincing when he presses his fingers into the fleshy arch of my foot, doing my best not to squeal. It does feel good, but it’s almost too good. Like I want to scream and laugh at the same time.
“Holy shit.”
“What?”
“Open your eyes, Clara.”
I do, and then sit up, gasping as I look down at myself. My whole body is glowing cyan-blue. And not only that, all the designs are there too. The swirls and symbols. Hundreds of different designs cover every inch of my skin. I look like… well. I look like there’s a story written on me. Except it’s written in a language I don’t read.
“Can I ask you questions now?”
I prop myself up on my elbows and look at Tyse. He’s still pressing on my foot, but he’s staring right back at me. Intently. Just watching me. “Sure.”
“What does it say?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
“Really? You have no idea?”
“None.”
“No one from your city ever tried to read it?”
“No. Why would they?”
“Because it’s clearly saying something. Don’t you think it’s odd that no one was curious enough to decipher it?”
“Well…” I sigh. “I guess I never thought about it before.”
“Did all the Spark Maidens have symbols written on them like this?”
I squint my eyes and press my lips together, trying to think back. “I’m not sure. I don’t recall. But they weren’t always there. You have to develop your spark. And when I first started, I could draw things in the air and that was pretty much it. The spark was in my fingertips. But over the course of my Choosing, it grew. This is normal. And that’s when the symbols came out.”
“And no one thought it was weird?”
“Well, I see what you’re saying. But in our defense, spark presents in many different ways. Hundreds, probably thousands of ways. And all of it was just considered… normal.”
“What do you think it says?”
I look down at myself again. This is when I realize Tyse can see my whole body underneath my nightgown because of the blue light. When I look up at him again, he’s watching me very carefully. So I decide to watch him just as carefully back. “I don’t think I need to go home.”
He grins. “That’s what you think it says?”
He’s joking. I know this. But he’s also serious. I nod, so he knows I’m joking but also serious as well. “Yeah. That’s what I think it says.”
Then I pull my foot from his hands, grab my pillow, and return to the normal sleeping position, but with my back to him.
He reaches over and flicks the light off, then settles down under the covers.