Page 74 of Strange Familiars
“—shrouded in misfortune. Yes, I know, Barnabus.” Finally finished draining the abscess, I busy myself with applying a poultice. Once it’s in place, I lower his hoof and start brushing the debris from the legs of my coveralls. “You’ve told me that before.”
He squints at me blearily as I scribble down doses of pain relief for one of the doctors to dispense.
“But, mate, the stars’ve shifted since last I saw you.” His golden eyes are slightly unfocused. “Things’ve changed for you, and trust me”—he leers—“it ain’t for the better.”
I raise my head to look at him as he sways on all four of his feet. This actuallyisnew. I can usually recite all of Barnabus’s and my conversations verbatim, since they’re pretty much always the same. This, though, is the first time he’s ever deviated from our usual, well-trodden script. “Oh?”
He lets out yet another alcoholic belch. I fan my face, trying not to inhale the stale, acerbic stench.
“Yes,” he says finally, a hand pressed to his belly, trying to force out another burp. “It involves a person who you care for…very much.”
Someone I care for? Not my father, surely? My gaze strays upward, to the ceiling, as though if I stare hard enough, perhaps I will penetrate the fifteen layers of concrete that separate us.
Do I care for him? That’s a complicated question. I’m furious at him; I feel like I’ll never forgive him. I’ve just signed a Do Not Resuscitate order, for Chrissakes.
The distance between us is a yawning chasm, the gap impossible to traverse. He’s still my father, yes, but one can feel a pull toward one’s blood relatives without actuallycaringfor them one whit.
Yet…who else could it be? My mother? I did care about her, once—but she’s been gone for so long that I doubt she even counts.
And while I’m friends with Danny, and we hang out a lot, it’s more a friendship of convenience. I wouldn’t say we particularly care much for one another.
Then, of course, there’s Gwendolynne. Considering how little I know her, and how much she openly hates me, it seems ludicrous that the centaur could be talking about her. But then again, if you took all the people I associate with, bottled up my feelings for them,and then put said bottles in a line…Gwendolynne’s would be the only one even remotely full.
In fact, as much as I’m loath to admit it, her bottle would be overflowing.
If itisGwendolynne, by some stretch of the imagination, then what is Barnabus trying to say? Will he tell me that Gwendolynne will actually forgive me? Will he tell me not to worry, I can associate with her and still manage to pass my exams? Or will he tell me that she and I—my heart skips a beat—are actually destined to be together?
My gut is churning, my palms sweaty. I swallow, my Adam’s apple feeling abnormally large, then wipe my hands on my robes. The nurse side-eyes me, clearly wondering at my reaction. “Well, what is it, Barnabus?” The words burst from my lips, brittle with impatience. “Spit it out. Tell me what is going to happen.”
Suddenly lucid, Barnabus fixes me with both of his bloodshot eyes.
“According to the stars,” he says, “the person you care about most will betray you.”
30
Gwendolynne
Heloise and I follow Professor Kaur out of the bar once the meeting has finished. We hadn’t learned much at the Galloping Gytrash, except the names of MLO members who had died—a detail we already knew. Plus that there is an MLO leader, someone even higher up than Anika Kaur, who is currently officially at large. It’s all highly classified, apparently, but the missing leader is still on the run.
We trail the dean and her dog, Lenny, for three and a half blocks. They turn into a dingy alleyway before she finally turns around and sighs. “Miss Chapman, Miss Chan, you can come out now. I know you’re there.” Lenny sits on his haunches, his nose raised, sniffing the air.
We emerge from the shadows, chagrined. I thought we’d been pretty stealthy, but my career pivot into a life of petty crime would have to wait, I guess.
“How did you know it was us?” Heloise seems genuinely shocked.
“Come on, ladies.” She gestures to her face. “Legally blind, remember? I’ve learned to recognize people by their auras, not by their appearances. Your glamours don’t work on me.”
We shuffle our feet. The fact that this didn’t occur to us is actually a bit embarrassing.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” The dean puts her hands on her hips. “Are you thinking of joining the MLO?”
“No,” I say quickly. “It’s just…We were…We were…” I’m grasping for an excuse. Professor Kaur knows that I don’t usually go to places like the Galloping Gytrash.
“We were wondering how you are,” Heloise interjects smoothly, obviously the better liar of the two of us. “Professor Pickering said you were too ill to attend the lecture, and we were just…you know…worried.”
Professor Kaur’s face softens, and she gives a tinkling laugh. “Ill? Is that what they’re telling you?” She shakes her head. “Heavens, Thomas is really a vile, sneaky little…” She trails off into a series of vulgar curse words.
“Thomas?” I blurt out. “Do you mean Professor Pickering, the vice dean?”
