The Dead House - Dawn Kurtagich Page 0,82
like him?”
Kaitlyn wipes roughly at her face. “He was just… reaching out, I guess. He was just scared. He needed comfort. It was stupid, but understandable. He… he liked Carly. I know he liked Carly.”
“He has a thing for you.”
Kaitlyn laughs shallowly. “Yeah. I guess so. I didn’t kiss him, Ari. It’s not like that.”
“You just let him kiss you.”
Kaitlyn shrugs. “He needed a friend.”
“I need a friend.”
Kaitlyn smiles and walks over to him, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him.
[END OF CLIP]
Diary of Kaitlyn Johnson
Tuesday, 25 January 2005, 6:00 am
Basement
It’s over for them. I can’t ask—
I won’t ask for any more.
92
7 days until the incident
Diary of Kaitlyn Johnson
Wednesday, 26 January 2005, 11:59 pm
Forgotten Garden
Haji is angry. Angry with me, angry with Naida.
We arranged to meet at night, in the Forgotten Garden. Here. I taped everything so I wouldn’t get it wrong.
Scott and Brett are at the hospital with Naida, but John wanted to come, and so did Ari. I didn’t think it was a good idea for them to be here… not at first. Not at all, maybe. So I decided to meet Haji alone. Ari didn’t like it—didn’t want to hear of it. But I insisted. Me. Haji. Alone. I had to explain to him what happened. I had to tell him how sorry I was. I don’t know what I was expecting.
He stepped through the broken, rusted gates like a towering shadow, and I knew that of anything I might get from him, forgiveness wasn’t it. That was when I pressed Record. He was bigger than I remembered. The kind of big that makes you feel like a tin can at the foot of a skyscraper. I wanted to step away, hide my face—but I forced myself to stay rigid and calm.
“You have caused many problems.”
I didn’t deny it.
“You have a Shyan working you.”
“How did you—”
“Naida’s ritual. I found her worker’s book. I read what she was planning.”
“You knew we were doing something dangerous when we came to see you.”
“Not that a Shyan was conjuring against you. Not that you planned to risk your souls on this stupid mission of yours. Naida is a foolish child for helping you.”
I swallowed. “Naida’s a hero. You don’t look like the kind of person who would understand that. My sister’s life is at risk. Her soul is gone. Naida was helping me get it back.”
“If an Olen holds her soul, he won’t simply give it back.”
“I know. We made a sacrifice. A trade.”
A scoff and a mutter. “Gorro have mercy. I sent you off thinking Naida knew what she was doing. I was wrong.”
“We did what we could, okay? Naida did what she could.”
“Naida is a child,” he snapped, and his voice was much louder. So. He did care, after all. “She doesn’t know how to communicate with a malevolent Olen. They are a destructive force only. To make them listen requires destruction. With a Shyan working them—and you—it’s a wonder you’re still alive.”
“Naida kept me safe—”
“Naida was stupid! Risking herself for you. For someone not of her blood, not of Fair Island!”
“You sent us off knowing something was up! We practically told you everything! You let us go!”
“An asking ritual, Naida said. A request. Guidance for her friend Carly. Nothing more.”
“She’s a saint! She helped me when no one else would. She told me what was going on. Explained things. She could have let me rot away in a psychiatric hospital and lived her life free and whole. But she came to me, she saved me—she risked everything! So if you’re going to trash her when she’s lying in a hospital bed, then you can just fuck off! I’ll do this alone.”
I started to walk away, I was almost crying. God, you can even hear it on the tape. Halfway between panting and sobbing.
“Wait,” he called, but I didn’t. “I said, wait!”
I stopped then, trying to swallow down the emotion, and turned as he walked towards me.
“You’re strong.” He paused, assessing me with those ocean eyes. “That’s useful.”
“Are you going to help me or not?”
“It seems I have no choice. You will do this alone if you have to, won’t you?”
I nodded.
He muttered something so quietly I didn’t catch it. Then he said, “Foolish child. Playing with fire. If you die, the fault is yours.”
His words didn’t scare me. “I’d die for Carly.”
“Good!” he snapped. “Because you probably will.”
Thursday, 27 January 2005, 1:00 am
Basement
What is wrong with me? I don’t understand. John just left, and… I feel like crap.