Scout arched a brow at Michael. “Does Garcia ever want to study?”
“I have my moments, Green,” he said, then moved toward the bed. When he reached me, he picked up my hand and squeezed it. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I was hit by a freight train.”
“Understandable,” Jason said behind him, and Michael nodded in agreement.
“Scout was just about to explain to me exactly what’s going on beneath Chicago.” Jason and Michael both snapped their gaze to Scout. I guessed they had mixed feelings about her confession. She waved cheekily.
“But now that the full club has convened,” I continued, linking my hands in my lap, “you can decide amongst yourselves who wants to do the explaining. Blue eyes? Brown eyes?” I glanced over at Scout. “Instigator?”
“I am so not an instigator,” Scout said. “I was the one being chased, if you’ll recall, not doing the chasing.”
“Instigator,” Michael said with a grin. “I like that.”
When Scout stuck her tongue out at him, he winked back at her. Her blush flared up again. I bit back a smile.
“All right,” Jason said. “You got dragged into the conflict, so you deserve some answers. What do you want to know?”
“Scout already said I was hit by firespell,” I said, “and I’ve figured out some of the rest of it. You three are in cahoots and you roam around under the convent and battle bad guys who make earthquakes and shoot fire from their hands.”
Silence.
“That’s not bad, actually,” Scout finally said.
Michael cocked his head at me. “How are you feeling about the earthquakes-and-shooting-fire part of that?”
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.”