The Iron King. Julie KagawaЧитать онлайн книгу.
I wasnât going to change his mind. And I really didnât want a temper tantrum in my room right now. âOkay, fine,â I relented, wrapping my arms around him. âLetâs say something other than Beau grabbed you today. Why donât you tell Mom and Luke?â
âTheyâre grown-ups,â Ethan said, as if it was perfectly clear.
âThey wonât believe me. They canât see the monsters.â He sighed and looked at me with the gravest expression Iâd ever seen on a kid. âBut Floppy says you can see them. If you try hard enough. You can see through the Mist and the glamour, Floppy says so.â
âThe what and the what?â
âEthan?â Momâs voice floated outside the door, and her silhouette appeared in the frame. âAre you in here?â Seeing us together, she blinked and offered a tentative smile. I glared back stonily.
Mom ignored me. âEthan, honey, time to get ready for bed. Itâs been a long day.â She held out her hand, and Ethan hopped down to pad across the room, dragging his rabbit behind him.
âCan I sleep with you and Daddy?â I heard him ask, his voice small and scared.
âOh, I guess so. Just for tonight, okay?â
ââKay.â Their voices faded away down the hall, and I kicked my door shut.
That night, I had a strange dream about waking up and seeing Floppy, Ethanâs stuffed rabbit, at the foot of my bed. In the dream, the rabbit was speaking to me, words that were grave and terrifying, filled with danger. It wanted to warn me, or it wanted me to help. I might have promised it something. The next morning, however, I couldnât remember much of the dream at all.
I WOKE TO THE SOUND OF RAIN drumming on the roof. My birthday seemed destined to be cold, ugly, and wet. For a moment, a heavy weight pressed at the back of my mind, though I didnât know why I felt so depressed. Then everything from the previous day came back to me, and I groaned.
Happy birthday to me, I thought, burrowing under the covers. Iâll be spending the rest of the week in bed, thanks.
âMeghan?â Momâs voice sounded outside my door, followed by a timid knock. âItâs getting late. Are you up yet?â
I ignored her and curled up farther into the covers. Resentment simmered as I thought of poor Beau, carted off to the pound. Mom knew I was mad at her, but she could stew in her guilt for a while. I wasnât ready to forgive and make up just yet.
âMeghan, get up. Youâre going to miss the bus,â said Mom, poking her head in the room. Her tone was matter-of-fact, and I snorted. So much for making up.
âIâm not going to school,â I muttered from beneath the covers. âI donât feel good. I think Iâve got the flu.â
âSick? On your birthday? Thatâs unfortunate.â Mom came into the room, and I peeked at her through a crack in the blankets. She remembered?
âVery sad,â Mom continued, smiling at me and crossing her arms. âI was going to take you to get a learnerâs permit after school today, but if youâre sick â¦â
I popped up. âReally? Um ⦠well, I guess I donât feel all that bad. Iâll just take some aspirin or something.â
âI thought so.â Mom shook her head as I bounced to my feet. âIâm helping your father fix the barn this afternoon, so I canât pick you up. But, as soon as you get home, weâll go to the license bureau together. That sound like a good birthday present?â
I barely heard her. I was too busy racing around the room, grabbing clothes and getting my stuff together. The sooner I got through the day, the better.
I was stuffing homework into my backpack when the door creaked open again. Ethan peeked in the doorway, his hands behind his back, a shy, expectant smile on his face.
I blinked at him and pushed back my hair. âWhat do you need, squirt?â
With a grin, he stepped forward and held out a folded piece of paper. Bright crayon drawings decorated the front; a smiley-faced sun hovered over a little house with smoke curling from the chimney.
âHappy birthday, Meggie,â he said, quite pleased with himself. âSee how I remembered?â
Smiling, I took the homemade card and opened it. Inside, a simple crayon drawing of our family smiled back: stick figures of Mom and Luke, me and Ethan holding hands, and a four-legged critter that had to be Beau. I felt a lump in my throat, and my eyes watered for just a moment.
âYou like it?â Ethan asked, watching me anxiously.
âI love it,â I said, ruffling his hair. âThank you. Here, why donât you put it on the fridge, so everyone can see what a great artist you are.â
He grinned and scampered off, clutching the card, and I felt my heart get a little bit lighter. Maybe today wouldnât be so terrible, after all.
âSO, YOUR MOM IS TAKING YOU to get a permit today?â Robbie asked as the bus pulled into the school parking lot. âThatâs cool. You can finally drive us downtown and to the movies. We wonât have to depend on the bus, or spend another evening watching VHS tapes on your twelve-inch screen.â
âItâs only a permit, Rob.â I gathered my backpack as the bus lurched to a halt. âI wonât have my license yet. Knowing Mom, itâll be another sixteen years before I can drive the car on my own. Ethan will probably get a license before I do.â
The thought of my half brother sent an unexpected chill through me. I remembered his words from the night before: You can see through the Mist and the glamour, Floppy says so.
Stuffed rabbit aside, I had no idea what he was talking about.
As I walked down the bus steps, a familiar figure broke away from a large group and came striding toward me. Scott. My stomach twisted, and I gazed around for a suitable escape route, but before I could flee into the crowd, he was already in front of me.
âHey.â His voice, drawling and deep, made me shiver. Terrified as I was, he was still gorgeous, with his damp blond hair falling in unruly waves and curls on his forehead. For some reason, he seemed nervous today, running his hands through his bangs and gazing around. âUm â¦â He hesitated, narrowing his eyes. âWhat was your name again?â
âMeghan,â I whispered.
âOh, yeah.â Stepping closer, he glanced back at his friends and lowered his voice. âListen, I feel bad about the way I treated you yesterday. It was uncalled-for. Iâm sorry.â
For a moment, I didnât understand what he was saying. Iâd been expecting threats, taunts, or accusations. Then a great balloon of relief swelled inside me as his words finally registered. âO-oh,â I stammered, feeling my face heat, âthatâs okay. Forget about it.â
âI canât,â he muttered. âYouâve been on my mind since yesterday. I was a real jerk, and Iâd like to make it up to you.
Do â¦â He stopped, chewing his lip, then got it all out in a rush. âDo you want to eat lunch with me this afternoon?â
My heart pounded. Butterflies swarmed madly in my stomach, and my feet felt like they were floating an inch off the ground. I barely had the voice to squeak a breathless âSure.â Scott grinned, showing blindingly white teeth, and gave me a wink.
âHey, guys! Over here!â One of Scottâs football buddies stood