Chapter Thirty
The next morning, she unlocked the door and walked to the kitchen, her clothes wrinkled and her hair a mess. She found the two of them chatting over their cups of steaming coffee.
“When do we leave?” she asked, ignoring Dustin completely. Mr. Smith was different today. Sturdy. His jacket hung off the chair beside him, clean and patched up. He was in a different white shirt, one without rips or stains. The sight of her teacher fully restored made her glad.
“Four days,” he didn’t check for a reaction, “This forest is swarming with Capital dragons right now.”
“Why?” she asked. There was no way that the search parties could have caught up with them that fast. It’s only been a day and they had barely stopped moving on the way here.
“A funeral,” his coffee cup made a loud clack when he sat it down against the dark counter, “Apparently, Chelsea’s funeral was meant to be in The Cove.”
“The Cove?” she tilted her head. It sounded like a tourist spot. Images of boardwalks and tacky shops filled her mind.
“A city near the beach. There’s no way to get there but by walking,” he pulled at his red tie, loosening it, “But Chelsea’s funeral was yesterday.”
“They started walking yesterday. They have, I’d say, two days more to go until they reach their destination,” Dustin smiled around the edge of his cup, much like Kai used to do. She bit her lip and tried not to think about Kai.
“So it’s two days there,” she said, drawing out the words. A guess, barely more than a groundless idea, was beginning to take root in her mind.
“Yes,” Mr. Smith said.
“And two days back,” she continued. She breathed unsteadily as she let herself hope.
He nodded again and leaned against the counter, apathetic as always, “Yes.”
“And we leave in four days,” she smiled. If she were wrong, Mr. Smith would have already told her. He wouldn’t let her get her hopes up if she were only to crash and fall.
“Correct again.”
Dustin broke in, “I’m taking you. They’re all looking for him, so he’s likely to get the both of you caught.”
She blinked, but didn’t acknowledge the chaos boy. Instead, she swallowed and continued to look at Mr. Smith, the only acceptable chaos she had ever met, “But what if they find the cabin? You’re not exactly up to fighting condition.”
“They’re not straying from the path,” Dustin said
“I’m not going with him,” she crossed her arms over her wrinkled shirt, glaring at Dustin. He shrugged her stare off.
“Then you’re not going,” Mr. Smith sipped calmly from his cup of tea, waiting for her to decide what to do. Either way, he would stay home, so it didn’t concern him.
Austin frowned, trying to fight the logic. She didn’t trust Dustin, that was a given, but she wanted---no, she needed, to be at Chelsea’s funeral. She needed to see her lab partner through to the end, “I won’t like it.”
“No one is asking you to,” he smiled. Austin could tell that, this whole time, he had known what she would decide. She felt cheated, but she knew that wasn’t fair. He had just been apathetic.
“Good.”
Dustin tossed her backpack through the air and she caught it clumsily, her hand hooking around one of the straps. He slid his arms through his own, “Let’s get on with it, then.”
“Right,” she looked at Mr. Smith with wide eyes. She would have liked to have a few minutes to prepare and complain about going with Dustin. Mr. Smith gave her a nod of encouragement as she was ushered out the door. Dustin put a hat on her head just as the cold wind hit her cheek, and the door shut with a satisfying crack, “I don’t like this.”
“Then think of this as me kidnapping you. Again,” he shrugged pointing in the opposite direction of the sun, “Want to lead the way, Aussy?”
“My name is Austin, not Aussy,” she started walking and Dustin kept pace, staying right beside her. She put a few feet distance between them, “Why’d you do it?”
“Do what?” he asked, staring at her. He was fascinated, intrigued. Curious. Every time she talked, he was curious.
“Kidnap me,” she said, “And kill my parents.”
She didn’t hate him for killing her parents. They were strangers to her, but maybe that made it worse. She hated him for taking that experience away from her. She wanted to have a mom and dad, to wake up to a family.
“I didn’t kill your parents,” he shook his head, which confused Austin. As far as she knew, he hadn’t lied to her yet. Why would he start now? “As for the kidnapping…I felt like it. Is there any reason why I shouldn’t have? There was nowhere left for you to go.”
Fledgling Page 31
