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It’s morning. I’m on the roof, watching the sun slowly brighten the sleeping city. I haven’t been able to sleep, not after speaking with Trick. If I’m going to do this, I’d better be damn sure I’m willing to go through with it, whatever the consequences. I lie back, pillowing the back of my head in my hands, searching the sky for the rapidly fading stars. I wish I could just float up there and leave all of this behind.
I hear footsteps against the metal of the ladder. I don't turn around. I don't want to see or talk to anyone. I came up here to get away from everyone, not to hold bloody conventions. Maybe I should booby trap the fire escape.
There's still so much I have to figure out about Patrick. I feel like I've failed him. Maybe if I had told him what I was doing, or about the Resistance, I could have protected him. I could at least have been watching over him when I wasn't down in the tunnels. He was--is--my oldest friend; I could have done something.
And I'm still no closer to figuring out how to free Pat, or even what to look for in the Key. What I do know is that the guilt inside me grows with every passing hour that Trick is in residence. But as much as I loathe it, I need Trick if I hope to save Patrick. He’s the only one who can help me find the right spell. If there is one.
A pair of battered boots stops in front of me. I look up. It's Ryland. I look back down, unwilling to meet his eyes. He squats down in front of me, so I scoot my body away from his. Tiring of my evasions, he puts his hands on my knees to still me. "I know you're upset with me."
I say nothing. I can't think of anything to say. When I remain silent, he sighs. "I'm trying to protect you, Amaranth."
My eyes flash up to his. His eyes are a warm brown, like the pelt of an otter. Those are the eyes that have watched over me for the past seven years, the eyes I thought held no surprises. Now when I look at them, I see only secrets. "From what, exactly?"
His face goes stiff for just a second and I can tell I surprised him with the question. Then he smiles sadly. "I want to keep you safe; I promised your mother." His eyes get a faraway look, a look they always get when he thinks about her. "You remind me of her more and more."
It makes me uncomfortable, him saying that. As the years have passed, I suspect that there was more than just friendship between my mother and Ryland. She never mentioned it to me and he won't talk about it, but now that I'm older I can see the signs, at least on his part. What she may have felt, I'll never know.
"What about my father?" It's something that I haven't asked him about since my mother died. I don't know who my father is--or was--and my mother never talked about to me. But I have always suspected that she talked to Ryland about him.
He starts at the mention. I see something flicker in his eyes, quickly gone. More secrets. I feel anger rush through me. I was beginning to feel bad about keeping the Key from Ryland, but the thought of what else he might be keeping from me strengthens my resolve.
"Your father?" His voice has a catch in it.
I simply stare at him, waiting for him to say more. When he doesn't after several minutes, I sigh. "Why won't you tell me anything?"
"Because I don't know anything." Again the flicker in his eyes. I know that's not true. "Your mother didn't talk much about him."
But she must have said something to you. You just said mother didn't talk much about him. What do you know that you're not telling me?
"Just let it go, Amaranth. Your mother had her reasons." He sounds lost, and very, very sad. For a few moments he seems far away from me.
I shift my weight and Ryland comes back to the present, and changes the topic. "There's going to be a meeting--that I've told you about. What I haven't told you is that it is for a mission, a very dangerous one."
"The Gate." The Gate is the last thing I'm concerned with. Ryland looks startled.
"How did you..."
"Dham let it slip."
"I don't want you anywhere near this." His eyes catch and hold mine. "You'll come to the mission meeting, but to watch only. This is one time where I want you out of things, do you understand?"
I shake my head. "No, I don't. You've never kept me from a mission before." And Patrick is the reason why he's holding me back now. I want to confront him with what I know, but stop myself. Ryland doesn't know I know. It might be better for me if I keep it that way.
"This time is different. Please promise me when the time comes you'll stay out of it." When I look at him skeptically, he shakes my knees. His eyes are hard. "Your word, Amaranth, or you won't go to the meeting at all."
I glare at him. I hate the thought of not being able to attend the council, of not knowing what's being discussed or going on. Ryland knows this, using it to his best advantage. "My word," I grind out.
Ry relaxes somewhat. I pull back slightly, wanting some space between us. I am unhappy and want to be left alone again. He's watching me cautiously, like I might suddenly grow horns and fangs and attack him. Finally he smiles at me, ghosting his hand over my hair. I've let it hang down, the sides tucked behind my ears. It isn't long enough anymore to put into a braid. "With your hair short, you look more like your mother." He pushes himself to his feet. He takes a few steps, then turns back to me. "Trust me on this, Amaranth."
He waits for my response, which I refuse to give. With a half-heard sigh, he turns and disappears back down the way he came.
The Iron Bells Page 17
