The Short Life of Sparrows (23 page)

The rancid smell wafts in every direction, and I’m anxious to get over the hillside. As I follow behind Calli and Daphne, a voice makes the three of us jolt. “I told you it wouldn’t be good,” Rowe says as he catches up to us. He blows a last puff from his stubby cigarette before flicking it into the dirt.

Calli wipes her face with her arm. “I can’t believe Ruby and Lillian are gone. I don’t want to imagine what Dante must have done. Not that either of them were ever good to me, but it’s still horrific. Oh Rowe, how can you light a cigarette from a fire like that? I’m so nauseous. I don’t think meat will sound good for days.”

“I’d watch any monster burn,” Rowe replies. “It’s not going to do a thing for the nightmares though. Murdoch would have put himself to the stake years ago if he thought it would end them. Good riddance. We don’t need that kind of crazy spreading like gangrene. And if somebody I cared about were ever at risk of being hurt, I wouldn’t wait for a council to take care of it. I hope you’ve been reminded that we don’t take well to betrayal, Isaiah. Or to our Seers being harmed in any way.”

I don’t feel the need to respond to him, because there’s nothing to say about what just happened. Nothing that captures the sickness of it. Let him take it out on me, because I’m anything but scared of him. Rowe can speak all he wants about how a burning man didn’t faze him, but he’s a liar. While half of the coven stayed to dance around a dead man, he was on our heels with his back turned to it.

Daphne walks very close to my right side, like she’s cautious of a Nightblood walking beside me. Calli whirls around, and even though she’s so much shorter than Rowe she doesn’t seem to notice it at all. “Look, Isaiah’s my friend. And Daphne’s. If you don’t like it, go back up to your mountain and pout about it there. There’s no Ordinary that can ever be as dreadful as the lot of us.”

“I know you’re with him after dark sometimes,” Rowe says, his voice getting low. “And I don’t know what to make of it.” His blue eyes light on me for a moment, as if he’s imagining me torn into small pieces.

“I’m not
with
anybody,” Calli snaps. “And quit acting like you’re some sort of bodyguard. Even if I
was
sneaking out with someone, I don’t need your approval or permission.”

If it weren’t for Daphne, I’d probably give Lil my notice right now
. Wondering whether or not Daphne would ever leave with me eats at my thoughts. I’m tired of the chill that runs down my backside every time these Nightbloods come to visit. Tired of the nauseous rolling of my stomach. Even though I don’t feel threatened by Rowe, I’m exhausted of him carrying on as if he intends to fight me.

Rowe stops me from passing by pushing me back with the flat of his hand. “You’re always hanging around each other, like flies over a cow pie. And Calli has missed dreaming altogether—
three
times earlier this week. As her Caster, I know she’s not having visions if I’m picking up on absolutely nothing. Which means she’s not at home asleep. So help me if you’re messing with her. If you make her cry for any reason, or if you make her promises you can’t keep, I won’t need casting. I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

My fists tighten. At this point, I’d let him pummel me just so I could get a few hits in. Maybe if he took a right hook to his smug jaw, he’d have to give up smelling like a chimney for a while. I get right up in his face, not caring that I can feel his breath on mine. “I’ve never touched her. She’s just a friend—or more so like my sister, you jealous prick.”

Calli pushes us apart, while Daphne backs further away. “Just tell him already,” Daphne mutters. “Before somebody gets hurt.”

“I’m not with Isaiah,” Calli shouts. “Sometimes I don’t feel like letting the nightmares be in control. Okay? I skip them. They’re all about as fun as being cuddled by a demon last night was. Sometimes I stay up reading until I can see the dawn. Or I go for a walk. And as for all of the other nights, I’ve been covering for—”

I’m waiting for Calli and Daphne to ruin everything, for a dangerous secret to come flying out of someone’s mouth. But I’m not scared. I knew this might happen.

Daphne interrupts Calli. “For me. I’m seeing someone, but you know how some Nightbloods are. He doesn’t want anyone to know. Calli has been our lookout. And that way it’s not a complete lie when Mildred asks where I’ve been. I can say that I was out with Calli.”

Rowe looks to Calli, his neck so strained that I’m still expecting him to punch me. But then his arms relax as he bends his head closer to her. “Really?”

“Really,” Calli replies. “So enough hovering over me with crazy crow eyes. It’s beneath you.”

Rowe shrugs his shoulders at me. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”

Faking a polite shrug in return, I grit my teeth. “Well, like she said. Just friends. It’s all we’ve ever been.”

What I really want to say to Rowe is, “Would you just kiss her already?”
But I know Calli would slug me harder than Rowe ever could for saying it.

“I’ve got to go,” Rowe says, noting how most of the Nightbloods are filtering into the trees.

“Good,” Calli says. “Go back to sitting in your little camp and playing nanny. I’ll make sure to climb out of my window just enough that you can imagine all of the dirty, exciting things I’m up to.”

He bats his hand as he walks away, not turning back to her. Calli swivels on her feet, throwing her arms up at Daphne and me. “He’s such an ass,” she says. “I’m getting tired of all of the ways he finds to infuriate me.”

A ridiculous, belly laugh erupts from Daphne’s mouth. She takes hold of my arm, but she just laughs harder. Clutching her stomach, she doubles over into a fit.

“Are you all right?” I ask, wondering how she went from traumatized to being thoroughly amused. Daphne points her finger at Calli, but then she falls down on her behind—so red in the cheeks that she can’t talk.

“What is so funny?” Calli snaps.

“You’re—” Daphne starts. She cackles, her dainty doe eyes wide with the diversion of her own thoughts. She nods at me. “Oh. Calli’s so far gone, completely in love with—with the most whorish, preened Nightblood we know. If I had to count how many times I’ve heard her say how dumb the other girls around here are for kissing one of them—for looking at
him
especially—’”

Calli’s face warps to a mortified purple. “I just got done saying what an ass he is,” she stutters. “Yes, true love must be wanting to slap the smirk off his smart face every time he talks.”

Now I’m laughing and falling into the grass next to Daphne. “She’s right. I mean, I knew it was getting bad. But look at you. You’re absolutely unconvincing—you couldn’t even think to kick either of us.”

She kicks me in the shin, but I hardly feel it. “There,” she says, “I should start kicking all of the men around here before they even open their mouths. It’d save me a lot of time.”

Daphne puts her face into my sleeve, slapping my arm as she tries to regain composure.

“He actually tries,” Daphne says, lifting the side of her smile. “Every time he’s here, he’s following you around. And your despising him is just so you don’t have to admit you’re actually wrong about something for once. You wouldn’t get so flustered if you weren’t taken with him.”

“He may be an ass,” I say, “but he’s less of one when he’s around you.” I plant my hat on my head, standing up so I’m swaggering around in a circle in a Rowe-like fashion. With my arms turned out like a brooding gorilla, I wink at Daphne—which sends her into further hysterics. “The Nightblood that grows flowers and keeps a tally of dreams. Do you really think he returns to the mountainside and tells the other men about all of that? It’s not as if he’s cursing with plagues and shattering your windows. He can’t even handle waiting for you to break a fever. He’s completely gone too.”

I fall back down into the yellowed wheat beside Daphne.

“Nobody is gone,” Calli retorts. “But you two have certainly lost your minds. Sneak out by yourselves this week. If Mildred asks me where you’ve been, Daphne, I’m going to tell her that you’re cavorting with Murdoch.”

“Did Rowe really walk you all of the way home last night?” Daphne breathes, winded and pink. “Like two Ordinaries—courting?”

Calli fumes, bending to punch my arm when I stifle a bursting snicker with my fist. “He walked her to the front gate.”

Calli huffs as she takes off toward Lil’s, but it’s still worth it—being able to laugh. I can’t deny that it feels a little unhinged to do so after what we’ve watched, and yet it feels freeing. Maybe the only way to survive the awful is to detach from it, to turn all of your emotions and attention to something else. I definitely don’t want to think or talk about it ever again. Dwelling on a scene as disturbing as Dante tied to that post would make the sanest of people crazy, and so I’m glad for the sound of Daphne’s laughter in my ears.
Anything but that humming
.

Daphne squeezes my hand as she gets her bearings, smoothing her dress before we have to split up. I gaze at her profile, overcome by how wisps of wavy hair fall around her soft face. She gives me one last smile over her shoulder. I wait, wanting to take in how her waist looks in her purple dress—how her graceful hands lift a little as she walks. I’m careful not to be too hopeful that Daphne and I might actually spend our next night without a chaperone. But the sleeve of my shirt still smells of the lavender oil she wears. The scent of her on my clothes helps me to forget that other overpowering, deathly odor today.

Her perfume is all it takes. I realize that she’s the one person who could make me stay longer than I have to. If I could just convince her to go with me. Calli isn’t the only one of us who has fallen for someone.

29

CALLI

T
he music tonight is punctuated with whining violins and drums that sound as if they’re being punched with vengeful fists. Loud melodies that overwhelm all chatter and hours of dancing have never sounded better. We’re all in need of a good distraction from the deaths of Lillian and Ruby—from the grisly bonfire of yesterday—from the reality that we haven’t broken the curse at all. Everybody has felt the letdown of waking up to the truth. Nothing has changed—our nightmares remain, in all of their terrible and vile glory.

I watch the procession of Nightbloods take their turn with her like leeches unleashed on a throbbing vein. Their gifts for this Awakening are doing little to keep a smile on the girl’s face. Tara has an undeniable nervousness, even as she thanks one of them for a very gaudy chain of pearls. She’s nothing more than an acquaintance to me, but I pity her for having to make-believe she’s content with diamond encrusted tree leaves and chocolate fountains. I know by the flustered way she pinches at her skirt that none of this wonderland spectacle can make up for the night terrors that come with her eighteenth year.
Happy Birthday, you poor sweet thing
.

Giant white lilies hover above all of the tables, a mist of wine swirling and dropping from their bent centers into each shining goblet. A satin carpet runs between the tables, and I almost trip as my heel catches on it. I cut through a crowd of tipsy women who are wearing enough fragrance to make my eyes water.

With as much discretion as possible, I search for Rowe. I’ve even braided tiny purple wildflowers into my curls, hoping he’d like them. Tonight I want him to spin me until my feet give out. I’m done with our game of dancing around each other with other people.

He’s there, casually propped against one of the trees, laughing as another man gestures largely. How Rowe manages to appear effortless in all of his golden chains and that fitted jacket, I’ll never understand. The polished metal he wears around his neck still can’t compete with those fierce blue eyes—the ones I’m hoping will look this way. I’m staring harder than I meant to, because I jump when a hand taps my shoulder.

A man who is probably twice my age gives me a ceremonious bow. His whiskers look greasy, and his gaze seems too zealous. “Lazar’s the name. Are you looking for someone to whisk you about, fine lady?”

Not by those all too eager hands
, I think. Instead, I force a polite smile and let him lead me into the swirl of dancing couples. It’s only a dance, and he can’t get away with much—not with the safety of so many people around us. I should be glad to be asked at all, shouldn’t I? The music thumps in my ears, and as Lazar turns me on the downbeat I relax a little. Our circles gain momentum, becoming furious and fast. When he loosens his hand from mine to turn me back and forth under his arm, I feel my grin widen. I break into quick steps that mirror his before he reels me in again. Rowe might have been looking this way, but Lazar and I are revolving so quickly that there isn’t time for me to really tell.

Out of breath and grateful for the respite of a slower song, I take him up on his invitation when he holds his hand out for another dance. Everything has a growing lightness to it, with the whole coven taken to dancing and visiting. The smell of baked pie is crisp in the night, and the torchlight glows warmly around us. I’m about to concede all of my previous judgments about this Lazar when he runs his knuckles up and down my spine. I tense at his drunken breath tickling my cheek. He licks his bottom lip as he dips me back. “Are you spoken for?”

“Spoken for?”

“Yeah,” he snickers. “I know Rowe is always sniffing around you lately. But I figure if you were spoken for, he’d be dancing with you.”

I’m wishing I could’ve convinced Isaiah to come
now
. Dancing would be a lot more fun with someone who is just here for simply that. But he’s probably right not to—and Lil is right that it’s dangerous. His presence makes the Nightbloods stir like a bed of snakes. My hands can barely stay on Lazar’s arms, and I cringe at the way he keeps readily rolling his lips together. His eyes harden much like his hands on my hips. I try to gather myself, hoping the song will just end already. “No,” I reply in a matter of fact voice. “I don’t belong to anyone. I’m not really interested in any of that.”