Page 45 of Heartless Heathens
Everything.
Anything.
Where would I even start?
I relaxed into the bed, letting my shoulders sink into the pillow and I turned to my side to look at one of the men Father Frollo had described to me as a monster. He was sharp, he was cold, but he hadn’t left me up there to starve to death.
And that begged the question.
Who wasreallythe monster?
“What is that?” I asked, fingering the bright reddish and black design inked on the middle of his throat.
He recoiled at first under my touch but relaxed as the pads of my fingers traced the image. It was consuming, so ruinous and magnetizing as it pulled you into its dark void. It somehow reminded me of the heat of infernal fire.
“It’s Sauron’s eye,” he explained like I’d know what that meant.
“What does that mean?” I asked him again.
“It’s… hard to describe. It’s from my favorite bit of literature.”
The thought made me smile. If Sonny enjoyed reading, then we shared common ground on something and that was more than I’d ever had with Father Frollo.
“Well then, I would like to read it too, I think.”
“Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows up, looking me up and down and I nodded.
He opened the drawer once more, putting the book inside it and pulling out another, much, much thicker book instead.
“It starts with the Hobbit,” he said like this was the most important thing he would ever tell me. “And it’s important we start there, because otherwise you won’t understand the events as they unfold. We can go back for the Silmarillion afterwards.”
I nodded like I understood what he was saying, though I truly didn’t have a clue. It seemed to please him, which wasn’t a reaction I was used to receiving. It coming from his mouth felt especially rare so I went along with it.
He read out loud the story with more excitement and inflection than I could ever expect from a man as stoic as Sonny. He went on with detail of the Hobbit man named Bilbo and his underground holes, stopping often to make sure I understood that these were not just regular holes in the ground but some cozy, well-furnished homes. My eyes started to get heavy when Sonny’s voice picked up passion at the introduction of a wizard.
“What’s a wizard?” I mumbled, trying to stay awake to hear the ending.
“Someone who does magic,” he said.
“What’s magic?” I asked again.
“I might need more time to explain that one. Go to sleep,” he said, pulling the covers up to my chin.
“I wanted to finish the story,” I told him, though my eyes were already closing.
“That wasn’t even chapter one.” He chuckled. “You can read more of it tomorrow,” he promised, just as I let go into the darkness of sleep.
Morning came too quickly, the bright sun exploding through the dozens of colors on the stained glass in Sonny’s bedroom windows. It took me a bit to remember where I was, the sudden alarm of realization that I wasn’t in the belltower, followed by a secondary rush at the thought that everything would only continue to change now.
There was no going back anymore. I was finally found.
I stretched my body and arched my back, freezing in place at the feeling of a hot body pressed up against me from behind. Or maybe I was the one pressed to his chest. I couldn’t tell for sure, but I was definitely taking up a majority of the bed.
I wiggled again, feeling him behind me and suddenly his hand was on my hip, a firm grip holding me in place to keep me from moving.
“Stop that,” Sonny gritted out, reminding me I’d slept in the Devil’s lair.
“Why?” I breathed out, wiggling one more time to get all the morning stiffness out of me.
