The Iron Bells

Home > Young Adult > The Iron Bells > Page 42
The Iron Bells Page 42

by Jeanette Battista


  Chapter Thirty-Two

  It's night again. My sense of time is off since I slept most of the day away. Trick let me sleep longer than I wanted him to, saying something about me not being specific enough in my instructions. Ryland has been busy arranging our departure. I've kept Auntie's list to myself, just in case we need it later. The plan is to leave London via lorry tomorrow night. Ryland is keeping most of the other details to himself, rather than risk another betrayal.

  I'm hunkered down in the common room of the pub, right in front of the fireplace. I want space to think. Dham's watching Trick, but mostly I think that's only an excuse so he can play poker with someone. Trick hasn't tried to escape, but it could be he wants his freedom as much as I want it for Patrick. I'm not sure I can trust it, but I don't have any better choices.

  Cat plops down in the chair beside me, eyes on the fire. Her hair is still damp from her shower, piled on her head. In the firelight she looks much younger than eighteen. She tucks her feet up on the chair, curling up like her namesake. I'm not sure what she's doing down here, let alone with me. We don't have a friendship; our relationship is more like a partnership of equals who don't particularly like each other or enjoy the other's company.

  I poke at the hearth with the toe of my shoe. When I glance over at Cat, her eyes are closed. Her breathing is quiet. I stretch out in my seat, propping my feet up on the hearth and close my eyes as well. I'll wake her up when I go to bed.

  "I see the way he looks at you." Cat's voice is so quiet and so startling that I jerk upright.

  "Who?"

  Her eyes open, the blue glittering with reflected flames. She looks at me like I'm mentally deficient. "Who do you think?"

  "Dham?" My voice rises to incredulity. She's been inseparable from Dham almost since her arrival in London. The only time they were apart for any length of time was when we separated after the Inquisition ambush.

  "No, his imaginary troglodyte best friend. Yes, Dham."

  I glance at her sideways, completely confused. Dham looks at me a certain way? "I think you're mistaken on that one."

  Cat sits up, a bitter look on her face. "You don't see it. You never see it. But he watches you. He always knows where you are and what you're doing."

  "What do you care how he looks at me? You're always with him too." You're never away from him.

  "But he doesn't see me. Not like he sees you." She reaches up to play with a strand of damp hair, curling it around her index finger. "I've tried. Believe me, I've tried. But I'm just a pal, someone he can talk music with. He doesn't look at me like he looks at you." She casts her eyes down, looking disappointed and angry.

  I want to ask her, but I'm afraid it will hurt her and make her angrier. But I really want to know. "How does he look at me? Since I'm apparently oblivious."

  Her eyes flash up to mine. Hers are a pure blue, not the muddy grey-blue of mine. She's so petite and blonde, she makes me feel like a dark, lumbering freak. "Like you're the only thing in the world that makes sense to him." She glares at me. "Like he'll wait for you forever."

  I duck my head so she won't see my blush. "Oh." I pick at my cuticles for a few moments, until the silence becomes unbearable. "Is that why you don't like me?"

  Cat grins. "Oh, no. That has nothing to do with it. You're bossy and cold and not a lot of fun to be around. And you've got a giant stick up your butt."

  I blink. I'm not sure how to respond to that rather succinct summation of my faults. "Um, thanks?"

  She shrugs. "Don't mention it." She pauses, as if weighing something, then smiles. "But you're also brave and loyal and awesome to have around in a fight."

  I cock my head in surprise. I didn't expect anything complimentary from her. "Wow. Where did that come from?"

  She sits all the way up in her chair, eyes on the fire that's dying in the grate. "I like to think that I'm fair. You do have some good qualities." Cat slides her eyes sideways, then says with a smirk, "Now it's your turn to say something nice about me."

  I laugh without meaning to. It's just so Cat to do that. She laughs with me and there's an ease between us that hasn't ever been there before. "I think I envy you." She turns to me, laughter stilled. "You're so present, so confident in yourself. It's like you never doubt who you are a day in your life." I look her over, then add, "And you're what a girl should look like."

  She swivels her body in the chair so that she faces me. There is a look of shock on her face, as if I've just told her the secret to faster than light travel or something like that. "What a girl should look like? What's wrong with the way you look?"

  I gesture at her then at myself. "Look at me. I'm tall and gawky. Dark with middling eyes and boring features. I'm too big. I'm not soft or delicate or anything a girl should be." And you're everything I'm supposed to aspire to.

  "I take all this to mean that you don't fill guys with that protective spirit." Cat frowns, eyebrows pulling low over the bridge of her nose with her scowl. "Let me tell you, that's no picnic."

  "Sorry, what?"

  "Look at you. And then look at me. Really look at me. I'm small, thin, short. Pale. Blonde and blue eyed and delicate like a porcelain doll. And everyone who sees me thinks I'm just as breakable." Cat spreads her hands. "All my life I've been protected, catered to, coddled. No one—not my parents, my family, my friends—ever let me do anything or go anywhere on my own. I needed to be protected." She pauses to stare at me, blue eyes challenging me to say something. "Until I picked up that bell."

  She stands up, hands on hips. "Let me tell you, I don't need protecting. I'm as tough as anyone and I can take care of myself. And it is awful when no one thinks that you're capable of it."

  Her eyes hold a challenge. I meet them and smile. "Do you want to know what I thought the first time I saw you?"

  "What?" The word comes out harsh and breathless.

  "We were in the tunnels, fighting that reanimator demon. Dham's bells weren't doing a thing. And then your bell rings out and you come out swinging it and the first thing that came to mind was this girl is a force. The determination you had, the power that went into that bell—it was amazing." I grin. "I never thought you needed protecting. If anything, the demons need protecting from you."

  Cat sits, as if the fight has been taken out of her. "Thanks," she mumbles to the floor.

  "I mean it, Cat. You don't need me." And it's true. She doesn't. Cat would be fine on her own. She's that kind of a person: a survivor. She won't let anything stop her. "You don't need anyone to take care of you." She looks up at me, something like trust shining in the back of her eyes. I nod.

  She clears her throat, breaking the moment that was again drawing out uncomfortably. "You said before that you envy me. It wasn't just because of my looks. You also said my confidence. What did you mean?"

  I lean back with a sigh, resting my hands on my stomach. "You are just so sure of yourself all the time. Aside from it being around-the-bend annoying, I wish I had it."

  She laughs, a real deep belly laugh. I prop myself up on the arms of the chair and stare at her darkly, waiting until she can get herself back under control. When the guffaws subside back to giggles, I cock an eyebrow at her. "I'm sorry," she says, gulping in air. "But that is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. You are so capable, so good at everything, it's hard to believe you're a person sometimes."

  I drop back down, fiddling with the hem of my shirt. "I doubt myself pretty much constantly."

  "Well, it doesn't show." She sits back, mirroring my pose. We're both staring into the banked fire. "It's damned annoying too."

  I laugh again. "Sorry about that it. If it helps, I honestly don't mean to do it. I'm just trying to get the job done."

  "It doesn't, but thanks." A wry smile quirks Cat's lips. "We're both kind of annoying, I guess." Again her eyes slide my way. "It's amazing that Dham puts up with us."

  I stiffen. I feel like there's a test I need to pass here or something, some way to cement our growing—dare I say?�
�friendship with each other. I swallow nervously. I can sense her eyes on me. "About Dham," I begin, not really sure what I can say here. I didn't know he looked at me the way she says he does. I'm not even sure I believe her. "Um, I can back off from him if it would make it easier for you. To… you know…"

  Cat snorts with laughter, an inelegant sound for such a pristine looking girl. She shakes her head. "You're hopeless." She sits up straight. "Haven't you ever had a boyfriend?"

  "No." Me, a boyfriend? When would I have had the time?

  "Let me clue you in. It won't matter if you sprouted wings and flew to the moon. Dham will never look at me the way he looks at you." She sighs. "That's just the way it is. It's not my decision. I can't decide who he's going to like."

  "Have you? Had a boyfriend, I mean." I feel jealousy flare before tamping it down. Of course she has. Look at her. But that's not fair, especially not after our talk tonight.

  "A few." She waves my question away easily with her hand, like she's waving off smoke from a cigarette. "No one serious though."

  "But Dham? You'd like it to be serious with him?" I'm not sure how I feel about that. I thought I disliked Cat for her personality—it's probably a bit too much like mine for comfort—but now I'm wondering if I was jealous of her feelings for Dham.

  "Oh God, no!" She laughs lightly. "He's cute, that's all. And he'd be a nice way to pass the time on this trip. But serious?" She shakes her head. "Not at all." She gets to her feet. "And besides, he's not into me anyway. He's all about you, Amaranth." She turns to go, then stops and faces me again. "So I guess you've got to figure out if you're all about him."

  I chew on my thumb, watching her walk back up the stairs to our room. Then I rest my head against the back of the chair, picking patterns out of the tin tiles on the roof. Her last words echo in my head, swirling around like water down a drain. I think I might be all about Dham, as Cat put it. But do I want to tell him?

 

‹ Prev