According to Etienne, there is no documentation of any Creator outside of Enlilkian ever bringing somebody back from the dead before. No Creator has ever rebuilt body parts, nor have any ever forced hearts to beat again, let alone belonging to someone they are Connected to.
Nobody knows what to say about what I’ve done to Kellan. And they do know now, because I admit everything in an attempt to get answers.
I insist on more tests, more specialists. More time to let his craft reemerge. He deals with all of my insistences gracefully, I think, more as an effort to appease Jonah and me than to really find out how we can get his craft back. I try giving him one—after all, if I can take one away, I surely must be able to give one, right? But Astrid takes me to the side and tells me that only Fate can disperse crafts, not Creators.
How ironic that I can destroy them easily yet not create them at all. And yet, I try anyway, because I can’t leave a single stone unturned.
A month after he wakes up, he stops going in to work, saying it is pointless no matter what I, his brother, Astrid, Zthane, or Karl argue. He spends most of his time in his apartment, watching television or playing video games when he isn’t suffering through ridiculous tests for me. Jonah tries so hard to get through to him, to assure him that we’ll figure it out, but the day comes when he announces to us that there would be no more testing.
I’m free falling without a parachute in sight.
Jonah must have heard this before me, because he doesn’t even try arguing. He’s just sad.
“But—”
“I want you to know right now that, no matter what,” Kellan continues calmly, “I am not upset about what you did. You saved my life, C. I will always be grateful for that. I don’t want you ever thinking differently. I’m just ready to accept what is, okay?”
He’s lying to me, I think. He’s miserable. I know he’s miserable.
When he goes back to his apartment, his twin brother trailing silently after him, I go into the bathroom, lock the door, and try to learn how to breathe again.
It’s wrong. I know it’s wrong. I should not be snooping; I should not be breaking their confidences. If I ever found out somebody did to me what I’m doing right now, I’d probably lose my mind.
Even if it were my Connection doing it.
But I make the little screen to watch what’s going on with Jonah and Kellan anyway.
Kellan is handing Jonah a drink—I think it’s coffee, but ... Kellan is also a big tea drinker, much like Astrid is. I suppose in the long run, it doesn’t matter what they’re drinking. It’s just so good to see them together, like I didn’t rip Kellan’s life apart two months back. Like ... they’re still the brothers they’ve always been, Connected by biology and history.
Jonah takes the mug from his brother. “Kellan—”
“Look.” Kellan runs a hand through his hair; it’s longer now, much like his brother’s. “I’ve thought about this a lot. This isn’t a rash decision.”
“It’s been all of two months. I know you feel that you’re not being rash, but—”
“There are a million and one buts to all of this,” Kellan says, and I marvel at how calm he sounds, at how ... just even he is when all of my insides are quivering, “but the most important one is this: I am no longer a Magical.”
Guilt beats against me from all sides. He is no longer a Magical because of me, because I didn’t try hard enough when I brought him back. If only I were a better Creator, a stronger one.
Enlilkian was right about me. He told me I was weak.
“If you think that anyone will treat you differently, or even dare to—”
Kellan won’t let him finish, though. “I am not a Magical, J. I can’t do my job.”
Although I’ve heard him say this already, the floor still drops out from below me.
Jonah is quiet for a long moment. He doesn’t sip his drink, doesn’t even move it to his mouth. He just stands there, mug in his hand, as he stares at his brother like he’s the only person in all of the worlds. Finally, when the silence carves deep grooves in my heart, he says, “That’s irrelevant. Even if you no longer are able to use your craft, you could work as part of the Métis Council—”
“I think Will has an excellent handle on that. As does Cameron. They don’t need me.”
The breath in my chest stills. I don’t like where this is going.