Half of Ruby

Chapter 36

Ember paused, but relented. "All right." 

They strode down the marketplace, steering out of the square as they headed into an unknown part of town. Somewhere in the distance, a bird trilled, singing to the moon. 

"I am currently seventeen years old," said Yvonne. "My mother became impregnated with me right after she gave birth to my step-brother. Unfortunately, two births in that short of a time, and especially in the unsanitary conditions of Barbados, proved too much for her to bear. She died three weeks after my birth." 

Ember's eyes flickered to Yvonne's features. She had none of the dark olive features of her father, what she would've expected from a Barbadian. Instead, with her mousy brown hair and blue eyes, she resembled a native Englishwoman. 

"My mother was Irish," came Yvonne's response, as Ember's eyes searched over her face. "With English blood. She gave me all my features. Everyone says they're beautiful." 

Ember frowned. "...they are," she said, unsure of how else to respond. 

Yvonne scoffed. "I don't see beauty when I look at the mirror. I see a traitor. One who betrayed her husband, one who traded purity for passion." 

Ember didn't speak. 

"I hate my mother," said Yvonne. "I hate her with all my heart." Her eyes burned, glistening under the moon as she spoke to the heavens. "And I would hate my father, too, except I know he's just trying to fix a mistake. I just wish he wouldn't use me in his plans." 

She sighed, hands clasped together as she strode forwards, Ember running to keep up. 

"He does love you," she said softly. "My step-brother. He loves you more than his father, more than the rest of his unforgiving family." 

They pressed onward, traveling towards the unknown. 

"Most of the time," said Yvonne, "when someone says your name, you hear just that: your name. But sometimes, you don't just hear your name. You hear your identity, your joy, your pain." 

Ember stared at Yvonne. "What do you mean?" 

"He says your name as though it's a goddess'. How many times have people said your name, Ember? There, see, I just did it. When someone calls Ember, you'll turn your head to look at him or her." 

Ember blinked. Memories blurred through her mind, memories of Ronan. 

"Am I a witch? A human?" 

"No," said Ronan. "You're neither. You're Ember." 

"And that's supposed to mean...?" 

She inhaled sharply, the cold air puncturing her lungs. 

"Do you get what I mean?" 

Ember nodded, staring wide-eyed at the young woman. "How do you...how do you know all this?" 

Yvonne smiled, regarding the palms of her hands. "I...I once felt what you did, too." 

"From...from whom?" 

Yvonne's eyes flickered to Ember. "Nobody," she responded simply. "I don't want to talk about it." 

Ember blinked in surprise, but let the matter drop. 

"Anyways," said Yvonne, clearing her throat, "you and Ronan want to marry each other. I, meanwhile, will be making my escape tomorrow night." 

"Your escape?" 

"Yes. No more about that." Yvonne stared at Ember. "You're going to crash the ball, naturally. Dance around, do something, just make sure you and Ronan are wedded at the end of the night."