Never Enough Time

Chapter Twenty-Three: Gabriel

Chapter Twenty-Three: Gabriel

"This is how we'll stand when,

When they burn our houses down.

This is what will be our glory..."

– Paramore, Let the Flames Begin

GABRIEL

This is foolish, I thought to myself as I followed Nathan and the girl into the room. She threatens all that we've worked for. We shouldn't have her in the castle at all. And yet the voice in my mind held little conviction as I thought these things. It seldom ever did, when it came to this girl.

I caught myself staring at the back of her head, and turned my gaze to Nathan.

"Your shirt should be dry by now, I think," he was saying as he retrieved a dark green tunic from the windowsill where it had evidently been left to dry.

Rika held out an arm for it. "Thanks," she said, smiling. "Where can I change?"

Wordlessly, I gestured to a door that led to a small closet within Nathan's chambers.

She looked at me. "Thanks," she said again – only in a much different tone than before – and disappeared behind the door without another word.

I almost smirked.

After she left, Nathan said, grinning, "Is it just me, or do I detect a hint of tension between the two of you?"

Now a real smile tugged at my lips. "Just a hint," I admitted.

"What happened between you two, anyway? I hardly think you know each other enough to dislike the other." Nathan sat in a nearby chair and leaned back, apparently completely comfortable with the fact that he was half-naked.

I rolled my eyes. "Can you not put on a shirt, like a civilized human being? You look ridiculous." I picked up a ball of fabric at random from the chaotic mess that was his bed and threw it at him.

He caught it easily. "Did you perhaps think that that was by design?" he asked as he pulled the shirt over his head. "And stop avoiding the question."

I snorted. "'I'm not avoiding anything."

"Then answer the question."

I shrugged, unapologetic. "You know me. I'm cold. Calculating. Manipulative. Not to mention rude," I added as an afterthought.

Nathan looked at me disapprovingly. "Gabriel, you know you are not any of those things," he said.

I raised an eyebrow at him.

He stared at me for a long moment, then relented. "Okay, maybe you're rude. So what?" he said, looking like it was the most insignificant issue in the world.

I laughed.

"So you can laugh. I was starting to think you didn't possess any emotion at all," Rika's voice said from the corner of the room.

Nathan and I both turned our heads to look at her. She stood with her arms crossed, leaning against the door frame. A small smile played on her lips. I think she might have been somewhat relieved to know that I was not the emotionless rock I may have appeared to have been.

 "Here's your shirt back, by the way," she added, throwing it to him as she strode across the room to the window.

He caught it with one hand. "Everyone seems to be throwing clothing at me today," he said, grinning.

Rika didn't seem to hear him. She stood by the window, looking toward the forest. I went to stand behind her, following her gaze. An increasingly darkening pillar of smoke rose above the trees, black against the cloudless blue sky. My eyes narrowed in concern.

"It's probably just a campfire," she murmured, as though reassuring herself of something.

My eyes followed the smoke as it rose up into nothing. "That is no campfire." And you should know better.

Her head snapped around to look at me, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You just –," she started.

"What's no campfire?" Nathan asked, joining us at the window. His question was answered no sooner than he had asked it: the towering column of smoke was impossible to miss. His eyebrows furrowed together, and he frowned.

"Rika," he said. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but that smoke...doesn't it look like it's coming from –?"

Realization dawned in her eyes. "My house," she whispered.