CHAPTER 10

Cal and I made our way from the main house to the tents in silence. I’d stopped in the kitchen to grab one of the battery-operated lanterns the Brannicks apparently hoarded. My shadow and Cal’s stretched out in front of us, nearly entwined, even though we weren’t walking that close together. My thoughts were still so wrapped up with Archer that I didn’t even see the semicircle of structures surrounding the compound until we were practically on top of them.

What the Brannicks called “tents” were actually pretty solid buildings. The roofs were made of heavy canvas, but instead of being on the ground, they were situated on wooden platforms. There were even stairs leading up into each one.

“Wow,” I said as we came to a stop. “These aren’t really tents. They’re more like cabins. Or like a tent and a cabin had a baby. A ‘tenbin.’”

It was a bad joke. A stupid one, and my heart wasn’t even a little bit in it. Archer would’ve laughed at it anyway, I thought, and once again, pain slammed into my chest, nearly leaving me breathless.

Cal didn’t say anything, so I just swung my arm out, gesturing to the tents. “Pick any of them. They’re all empty.”

Still not looking at me, Cal moved toward the tent directly in front of us, and pushed back the flap. It occurred to me that I probably should have just given him the lantern instead of following him inside, but by the time I’d had that thought, he was already in the tent.

I climbed the steps and ducked through the canvas doorway. “Wow,” I said to his back. “Not exactly the digs we had at Thorne, huh?”

There were two pieces of furniture on the scuffed wooden platform: a folding table and a low cot like the ones in the basement. Of course, that’s about all there was room for. The tent was tiny, and I suddenly felt a little claustrophobic.

I put the lantern on the table, wishing the pool of light it cast were bigger. As it was, I could barely see Cal’s face in the gloom. Then I shoved my hands in my back pockets and blew out a long breath. Cal sat down on the cot, and it squeaked slightly under his weight. He rested his elbows on his spread knees, hands clasped in front of him, but he still didn’t say anything.

“Hey,” I said, my voice way too loud, “if you’re, uh, hungry or something, I can see what’s in the kitchen. Running for your life and dragging a powerless demon all over the world probably works up an appetite, huh?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I mentally cringed so hard, I’m surprised I didn’t sprain something.

“I’m not hungry,” he replied in a low voice.

“Awesome,” I said. “Then I’ll leave you alone and let you get some sleep.”

My cheeks flaming, I headed for the entrance.

And then, from behind me: “I thought about you. Every day.”

I froze, my hand still holding the canvas flap.

Cal’s voice was slightly hoarse as he continued. “Three weeks is a long time to wonder where someone is. All that time, I thought maybe I’d done the wrong thing, telling you to find the Brannicks.”

I turned around then. I wanted to make a joke, or say something sarcastic, anything that would cut the tension enveloping us. Instead, I said, “I thought about you, too.”

Cal glanced up, and I met his eyes. “Cal, you…you saved my dad’s life. You tried to save Archer’s.” My chest ached, saying that out loud, but I made myself go on. “That’s so huge, I don’t even know where to start. ‘Thank you’ doesn’t really cut it, you know? And I’m not sure there’s a fruit basket big enough to—”

He rose to his feet, and suddenly his arms were around me and my face was pressed against his chest. He smelled good, and familiar, and tears sprang to my eyes as I put my hands on his back and pressed him closer. He stroked my hair. “He might be okay, Sophie,” Cal murmured. “The Eye could’ve gotten him out.”

I squeezed my eyes closed. “I know,” I whispered. “It’s not that. I mean, it is that, but not just that. It’s…Everything is so screwed up, Cal.”

His arms tightened. “I know. With Graymalkin being gone…” He blew out a long breath but didn’t say anything else.

I hadn’t even thought about that. How much Cal had loved the island. I remembered what he’d told me at Thorne, that Graymalkin had always felt like home to him. I was used to feeling vaguely homeless, but Cal had lived at Hex Hall since he was thirteen.

I pulled back to look in his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” I told him. “For all of it.”

On his face, I saw everything I was feeling. The confusion, the helplessness, the loneliness. And I guess it was that last emotion that made me rise up on tiptoes and softly brush my lips over his. I hadn’t meant for it to be a real kiss; it was more a gesture of thanks and comfort than anything else. But when I went to pull back, Cal cupped my cheek, and his mouth slanted over mine, and just like that, it was definitely a real kiss.

I kissed him back, my hands clutching at his T-shirt. For a minute, it felt nice. Well, better than nice, really. I felt safe and comfortable, and his arms were so warm around me.

And then, suddenly, I was pulling away, my face hot. “Oh, God, and now I’m sorry for that,” I said, turning my back to him and wiping at my cheeks with trembling hands.

I’d only thought the atmosphere in the tent was tense before. Now I was practically choking on it. From behind me, I heard Cal sigh. “No, I’m sorry,” he said. “We’re both…We’re in a weird place.”

I turned back around then and gave him a shaky smile. “Both metaphorically and literally,” I said, gesturing around the tent.

Cal gave a tiny smile back. “You should probably go. Check on your dad. We can talk more tomorrow when things aren’t so…” His words trailed off, and finally he just shrugged.

I nodded. “Right. Tomorrow.”

I could feel his gaze on my back as I left the tent, and it was like it stayed there, a hot spot between my shoulder blades, as I jogged back to the house.

I kissed Cal. Again. For real.

The words pounded inside my brain in time to my footsteps, and I wasn’t sure whether it was guilt or giddiness jumping around in my stomach. My hands were still trembling when I opened the back door. The house was strangely silent, and I crept toward the living room. Dad was still on the couch, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow. Mom sat on the floor next to him, a steaming mug beside her. She was looking at Dad with such a strange expression: sad, and scared, and…something else. Her finger barely touched his skin as she traced the purple whorls on his hand.

I backed out before she could see me.

As I made my way upstairs, I felt shaky and hollow. Sometimes I think we have a limit to how many emotions we can feel at once, and I had clearly reached mine. Between Dad and Cal reappearing, and kissing Cal…

I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes and took a shuddery breath. Yup. Definitely had all I could handle for one night.

When I opened my bedroom and saw a soft, ghostly glow, I groaned. “Not tonight, Elodie,” I sniffled. “I’m not in the mood.” The words died in my throat. It wasn’t Elodie’s ghost standing in the middle of my room. It was Archer’s.