Jonah agrees with Callie, though. “What’s next? Will a paper cut slow you down, too?” He sticks out a finger and pretends to wince. “I can’t hold my cards; my owie hurts so bad!”
Kellan reaches across the table and punches his brother’s arm. “I’d like to see you win three matches after being comatose.”
Jonah grins, and we all laugh. It’s nice. Easy. And not half as weird as it could be, considering. Like we’re just four teenagers hanging out.
There’s a loud knock at the door and Astrid goes to answer it, still on her phone. But when she opens the door, the phone is snapped shut mid-sentence. “Baby doll,” she says without turning around, “will you please go and find your Aunt Katie and bring her up to the room?”
The laughter is gone from the table before Callie’s out of her seat. Three people fill the doorway: Karl, smudges under his eyes and stubble darkening his face; some Dwarf I do not recognize; and a tall, distinguished Elf whom I know to be the head of the Guard.
Callie slips in between Karl and the Dwarf. As she disappears into the hallway, her mother addresses the Elf in the flattest voice I’ve ever heard her use. “Jens.”
Jens Belladonna has been running the Guard for about half a century. His hair is white and so bright that it makes Callie’s look brassy in comparison. He’s got a neat, grizzled goatee and piercing gray eyes. He’s a Tech, and his manipulations of machinery frighten me.
He matches her tone easily with an “Astrid” of his own, then attempts to step around her into the room, but she blocks him. A frustrated sigh escapes his pursed lips. “I have every right to be here now and you know it.”
Jonah stands up so suddenly the chair behind him clatters to the ground. Kellan’s hand whips out to grab him, eyes boring right into his brother’s. A second later, he’s out of his chair, too, and across the room to the door.
“Kellan, you ought to go sit down,” Astrid tries, but he shakes her off.
“What’s going on?” I ask Jonah, who is so still. But I know better. An overly calm Jonah equals a furious Jonah. He’s not one to show his hand easily, which makes me all the uneasier with these new arrivals.
The anger is his eyes softens when he looks at me. “I . . .” He glances back over at the door, where Kellan is speaking too low for me to hear. “I need to go talk to Jens, honey. Would it do any good for me to ask you to go to the other room?”
He’s joking, right? “No.”
“This is outrageous,” Astrid is saying. “You have been reprimanded by the Council twice now. You must be eager to lose your position, Jens. Either that, or you’re a very stupid man.”
What’s this?
“Charming as ever, Astrid,” Jens answers. “Why am I not surprised that you’re here with the Creator”—he stares right at me—“after your impassioned speech last night?”
His mention of me is startling. So this is what’s had Jonah so upset? What in the worlds would Jens Belladonna want with me?
This sends Jonah over to where everyone else has gathered. “You are not welcome here,” he says in a low voice. “Or have I not made myself patently clear on this issue yet?”
Jens smiles a smile that would make a politician weep with envy. “Please, Astrid, Jonah; let us not conduct our affairs out in a hallway, where everyone can hear. It would be much nicer if we can do it inside, behind closed doors. Don’t you agree?”
“Whatever was needed to be said has already been said.” Jonah sounds so rational, so calm, that the only small action showing his true feelings are the fingers of one hand curled into whiteness for just the briefest of moments before resuming flexing in and out.
Astrid had a point. How had I really not noticed this tic of his?
I take a step toward them, but Astrid turns and shakes her head at me. As does Karl, who has so far been unnaturally silent. And it’s enough to stop me in my tracks.
“I disagree—” Jens begins, but Jonah cuts him off.
“Have you so quickly forgotten the rebuke you were handed last night?”
Jens’ eyes narrow as he studies Jonah. “I am well within my rights to quest—”
“No,” Jonah snaps. “You are not.”
“Had you let me finish,” Jens says with exaggerated patience, “I was going to remind you that I am well within my rights to question Kellan, as he is part of the Guard and required to debrief when I see fit. If I recall clearly, you refused me access to the Creator’s memories, not your brother’s.”
My memories? My body, my face, must show my confusion, because the next thing I know, Astrid is by my side and a protective arm is wrapped around my shoulders.
But what is she protecting me from?
Callie appears behind the Guard with Kate Blackstone. Kate practically snarls, “How in the hell did you get into my hospital, Jens? You’ve been banned by the Council!”