Free The Bellwether Revivals by Benjamin Wood Page A

why he was hurting. The last thing he remembered was sitting down in the chair and Eden telling him to empty his mind.
    ‘Hello. We’ve got movement,’ Eden said. He tilted his head and waved. ‘Morning, sunbeam.’
    Oscar looked at them with wet eyes. ‘Fuck. Did I pass out or something?’
    ‘Yep,’ Eden said. ‘You were out for the count.’
    ‘What happened?’
    ‘I’m not sure. I think it might have been Yin’s aftershave.’
    Everyone laughed, and Yin gave a sarcastic titter.
    ‘Don’t you remember anything?’ Iris asked. There was a softness to her voice that felt to him like genuine concern.
    ‘I remember sitting in the chair and you all starting to play, and then—’ He broke off. ‘My hand is killing me.’ Oscar stood, flexing the fingers of his sore hand. A sort of panic came over him. It was not the pain itself that made him fearful, but the strangeness of it, the fact that he didn’t know where it had come from. ‘What the hell happened to me?’
    Iris was about to speak, but Eden placed his fingers upon her shoulder. ‘You had an accident,’ he said. ‘We were halfway through the demonstration and you fainted. You fell onto one of the candle jars and cut your hand. Are you alright?’
    ‘I did?’ Oscar looked at the others. Their faces were blank, static, and he didn’t know how to read them. Another surge of pain gripped his hand. ‘It hurts like mad.’
    ‘I dressed the wound. It’ll heal up fine,’ Iris said.
    Eden held out his palm. ‘Let me see.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Let me take a look at your hand.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Because I say so.’ Eden’s voice was dry and hollow.
    ‘You better let him look,’ Iris said. She smiled at Oscar in that way that he couldn’t resist. Her pupils were steady, reassuringly set. Reluctantly, he put his hand into her brother’s palm.
    Eden removed the dressing. Two small lesions were seeping, an inch apart. The wound looked like a snake bite. A yellowy bruise was starting to spread across the swollen skin. The sight of it made Oscar light-headed. He turned away.
    ‘Oh, it’s not that bad,’ Eden said. ‘I’ve seen worse. On horses.’
    ‘Are you sure I don’t still have some glass in there?’
    ‘You’ll be fine.’
    He winced as Eden placed his other hand over the wound. ‘Hey! What are you doing? That kills. Stop it!’ But Eden only gripped harder. His fingers viced. There was an urgent heat in his hands. ‘For fuck’s sake, stop it!’ Oscar shouted. But Eden wouldn’t release his grip. He only extended it over Oscar’s wrist and stared into his face. His eyes had that weird sheen about them, that purity of focus. The pain was still there in Oscar’s hand, but more overwhelming was that deep, distracting heat coming from Eden’s fingers.
    ‘Let go of me!’
    Eden squeezed harder and harder. His face was concentrated, sneering.
    ‘I said, let
go
!’
    Iris took a timid step backwards.
    ‘Edie, can’t you just leave him alone now?’ Jane said.
    ‘Yeah, man, don’t hurt the guy,’ said Yin.
    But Eden’s skinny thumbs kept pressing and twisting, pressing and twisting. Then he quickly released his grip, and Oscar reeled backwards. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ he shouted. ‘Are you trying to torture me or something? Jesus!’ He was shaking with anger and could feel the blood rising through his body. A queasiness came over him. He wanted to get away from this dark room, these people. He was too frantic to speak. Hauling on his coat, he ran out into the hallway. The leather caught underneath his heels as he stepped hurriedly into his shoes, but he didn’t stop to adjust them.
    He was still struggling with the latch on the front door when Iris rushed out to the hall. ‘Hey, come on, don’t go,’ she said. ‘It’s Eden being Eden, that’s all. Will you let me explain?’ She stared at him with a look of regret—not as if she were sorry, but as if she were somehow disappointed in him. ‘He went too far,