Firespell Page 32
I frowned down at the thin hospital sheet, then picked at a pill in the fabric. It was probably time for me to give some thought to whatever it was I’d been dragged into—or, maybe more accurately, that I’d fallen into.
“I’m not sure,” I said after a minute. “I mean, I’m not really in a position to doubt the earthquakes-and-shooting-fire part. I’ve felt the earthquakes, felt the fire. It hurt,” I emphasized. The memory of that burning heat made my shoulders tense, and I rolled them out to relieve the tension.
“I’m alive,” I said, glancing up at them, “which I guess isn’t something I can really take for granted right now. But beyond that, I haven’t really had time to think much about it. To process it, if that makes sense.”
I glanced up at Scout. Her expression had fallen, and she nibbled the edge of her lip. There was fear in her face, maybe apology, as well. It was the insecurity that comes from knowing that someone you’d brought into your life could disappear again, leaving you alone.
“It makes sense,” she quietly said. Her words were a statement, but there was a question in her tone: Is this it for us? For our friendship?
Scout and I looked at each other for a few seconds, and in the time that elapsed during that glance, something happened—I realized I’d been given an opportunity to become part of a new kind of family; an opportunity to trust someone, to take a chance on someone. My parents may have been four thousand miles away, but I’d gained a new best friend. And that was something. That was the kind of thing you held on to.
“Well then,” I said, my gaze on hers, “I suppose you’d better fill me in.”
It took her a moment to react, to realize what I’d said, to realize that I was committing to being a part of whatever it was they were really, truly involved in. And when she realized it, her face lit up.
But before we could get too cozy, Jason spoke up.
“Before you tell her more than she already knows,” he said, “you need to think about what you’re doing. She was underground for only a little while. That means there’s a chance they won’t recognize her. We can all go about our business, and there’s no need for them to know she exists.”
He crossed his arms and frowned. “But if you bring her into it, she becomes part of the conflict. Not a JV member, sure, but part of the community. You’ll put her on the radar, and they’ll mark her as a supporter of the enclave. She may become a target. If you tell her more, she’s in this. For better or worse, she’s in it.”
I was okay with “for better or worse.” It was “till death do us part” that I wasn’t really excited about.
“Look around,” Scout quietly said, her gaze on me. “She’s in the hospital wearing a paper nightgown. She has a tube in her arm.” She shifted her gaze to Jason, and there was impatience there. “She’s already in this.”
As if she’d made the decision, Scout half jumped onto the bed and arranged herself to sit on the edge. As she moved around, Michael and Jason took a step backward to get out of her way, exchanging a quiet glance as they waited for her to begin.
“Unicorns,” she said.
There was silence in the room for a few seconds. “Unicorns,” I repeated.
She bobbed her head. “Unicorns.”
I just blinked. “I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with that.”
“Aha,” she said, a finger in the air. “You didn’t expect me to start with that, did you? But, seriously, unicorns. Imagine yourself in medieval Europe. You’ve got horses, oxen, assorted beasts of burden. Times are dark, dirty, generally impoverished.”
Jason leaned toward Michael. “Is this going somewhere?”
“Not a clue,” Michael said. “This is the first time I’ve heard this speech.”
“Zip it, Garcia. Okay, so dark, dirty, lots of peasants, things are dreary. All of a sudden, a maiden walks into a field or some such thing, and she expects to see a horse there. But instead, there’s a unicorn. Horn, white mane, magical glow, the whole bit.”
She stopped talking, then looked at me expectantly.
“I’m sorry, Scout, but if that was supposed to be a metaphor or something, I got nothin’.”
“Seconded,” Michael added.
Scout leaned forward a little, and when she continued, her voice was quieter, more solemn. “Think about what I said. What if, all of a sudden, every once in a while, it wasn’t just another horse in the field? What if it really was a unicorn?”
“Ohhh,” Jason said. “Got it.”
“Yep,” Michael agreed.
“There are people in the world,” Scout said, “like those unicorns in the field. They’re unique. They’re rare.” She paused and glanced up at me, her expression solemn. “And they’re gifted. With magic.”
Okay, I guess with all the unicorn talk, I probably should have seen that coming. Still, I had to blink a few times after she laid that little egg.
“Magic,” I finally repeated.
“Magical powers of every shape and size,” she said. “I can see the doubt in your eyes, but you’ve seen it. You’ve felt it.” She bobbed her head toward my IV. “You have firsthand experience it exists, even if you don’t know the what or the why.”
I frowned. “Okay, earthquakes and fire and whatnot, but magic?”
Jason leaned forward a little. “You can have a little time to get used to the idea,” he said. “But in the meantime, you might want to have her move along with the explanation. She’s got quite a bit to get through yet.” He smiled warmly, and my heart fluttered, circumstances notwithstanding.