The Iron Thorn - Caitlin Kittredge [128]
“No,” I said, “I don’t think anything of the sort.” Bethina would be good for Cal. She was steady and sweet and practical and she’d keep him with his feet on the ground. “Just tell him,” I said to Bethina. “We don’t get much time as it is, and we waste too much of it wondering.”
“You’re smart, miss,” Bethina said. “So much it’s spooky.”
“I frighten even myself,” I assured her, and went out the kitchen door to find Cal.
Cal wasn’t hard to track—he’d gone directly to the cemetery and was sitting on the gate, letting it swing back and forth while he perched on the top bar, his heels hooked in the scrollwork.
“Aren’t you worried more ghouls might come?” I said when I was a few feet away—just speaking distance. I’d never felt awkward in front of Cal before, and it sat as a stone in my throat.
“They wouldn’t want me,” Cal grumbled. “I’m not a big side of beef like your friend in there. I’m only scraps.”
I had been prepared to be contrite, but my annoyance came back at his complaining tone. “Listen to yourself, Cal!” I snapped. “I’m sorry that you thought we were something we’re not. I’m sorry. You’re my friend and I never wanted to hurt you.”
“Maybe not,” Cal said. “But you did it.” The gate swung under his weight, imitating the voices of the circling crows.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I sat on a pile of leaves against the fence and tucked my skirt under my knees. We both looked at the pond and the slowly dying season. I didn’t want to meet Cal’s eyes in that moment and see his answer.
He propped his chin in his hands. “You’re not who I thought you were, Aoife. I got a lot of guff for being friendly with a girl who carries the necrovirus. And when Conrad went mad in front of everyone—”
“I’m not responsible for Conrad’s madness,” I said. It stung that he’d use that against me after all. “But neither was he. I won’t abandon my brother, Cal. Blood is blood and friendship is friendship. It doesn’t have to end just because we’ve changed.”
“You’re not the Aoife Grayson I met on the first day of classes,” Cal said. “She asked to borrow my pen. She helped me pass calculus. She was a good girl, a proper girl. You’re not her.”
A long moment passed while we watched leaves fall and float on the glassy surface of the pond beyond the cemetery walls.
“No,” I agreed. “I’m not.” I looked at Cal again. “I’m scared to tell you how much I’m not, Cal. I want to, but I’m scared of what you’ll do.”
“Scared?” He swiped his hands through his hair. “Aoife, you have nothing to be scared of from me. That Dean, he’s the problem. He’ll lead you astray and you’ll never find your way back.”
“Cal,” I said quietly, knowing there was only one thing I could say to stem his anger. “I don’t like what’s gone between us, and if I tell you something to make things right, you have to promise me that you’ll stop ripping on Dean and really listen.”
“Fine,” he said after a long time. “But don’t expect me to like it.”
He was hurt, that much was evident, and I tried not to let his hard tone and hard eyes sting too much. “My father used enchantments,” I said. “Not fakery and sleight of hand. Real power that science can’t explain. He communicated with creatures from beyond this world. I can do the same thing.”
“That’s the necrovirus talking for you,” Cal said, too quickly. The words put a blade in me, low down, in the stomach, and started a fury that, after my encounters with Tremaine, was becoming familiar.
“Dammit. I’m not crazy, Cal, and I’ll prove it to you.” I held out my hand. “You have anything mechanical on you?”
He shrugged. “Just my portable aether tube and my multitool.”
“The tube,” I said. “Give it to me.”
“Aoife, don’t embarrass yourself,” he said. “The virus has made you see things. Enchantment isn’t possible. All of the great minds have proved that. The Proctors tell us—”
“You don’t really believe I’m only infected,” I cut him off, folding my arms. “Or you wouldn’t still be here. I think you want to believe, Cal.” Just like Nerissa wanted to believe there was something beyond the dreary horror of the madhouse. Just like