“We should probably go back before anyone notices we’re missing,” she said.

Call nodded, suddenly conscious that they were alone, and that he’d just poured out his heart to her. No Jasper around to make snide comments, or Master Joseph or Alex to stare creepily. Just him and Tamara.

“Look, Tamara,” he said. “Everything I said before, it was dumb. You probably liked Aaron. You probably didn’t even mean to save me instead of him. You probably have a lot of regrets.”

Tamara reached out and took one of Call’s hands. He wasn’t conscious of how cold he’d grown until he felt the warmth of her skin. “I wake up in the night sorry I didn’t save Aaron. But, Call — I’m not sorry I saved you.”

He couldn’t quite draw a breath. “You’re not sorry?”

She leaned toward him. Their faces were very close together. He could see her small Fatima necklace glittering around her throat. “I thought you knew how I felt.”

“How you felt?” Call wondered if he was doomed to repeat everything she said. She was clutching both of his hands now, nervously. Her eyes were huge and dark and fixed on him.

“Call,” Tamara said, and he kissed her. He wasn’t sure later what prompted him or suggested to him it would be a good idea. He had no idea what instinct told him he wouldn’t get slapped or, worse, informed that he was a really good friend but Tamara just didn’t feel that way about him.

But neither of those things happened. Tamara made a little noise and moved to adjust into a better position and what had been Call pressing his mouth nervously against Tamara’s became something else. Something that made it feel like his heart was exploding inside his chest. She put her hands lightly against either side of his face and the kiss went on for so long that Call’s ears were roaring.

Finally, they pulled apart. Tamara was blushing bright red but looked pleased. And Call felt happy. For the first time since Aaron had died, he felt happy.

He’d almost forgotten what it was like.

I just had my first kiss in a stronghold of the Enemy of Death, in a room full of his dead brother’s stuff, Call thought. Story of my life.

He didn’t mind, though. For the moment, he didn’t mind anything.

“Let’s go,” Tamara said. Her cheeks had faded to pink. “Before anyone comes into the parlor and notices we opened the trapdoor.”

Call disagreed. He thought they should stay and kiss some more. It was an underrated invention, or at least one he hadn’t rated highly enough himself until this minute.

Tamara put her hand in his, and in a sort of daze, Call followed her out the door and back through the catacombs, holding hands tightly. Holding hands was also surprisingly awesome. Every time they turned a corner she squeezed his fingers and sent small bolts of lightning zipping up his arm.

They had to separate when they got to the ladder that went up to the parlor. Tamara climbed up first, and Call after, and they were distracted for a while cleaning up the room and making it look like they’d never been there. They found some boards to brace over the hole that seemed like they might hold someone’s weight.

They crept out of the room and up the stairs. Call was about to see if Tamara was maybe up for more hand-holding when Jasper loomed up at them out of the shadows. “Where have you been?” he demanded.

Call glared. Jasper was always going on and on about romance — you’d think he’d notice when he wasn’t wanted. But then Jasper had always been oblivious to his many severe personality defects.

“We explored the catacombs just like we planned,” Tamara said, nodding toward where they’d come from. At that moment, Call remembered that Jasper and Tamara spent all day together, planning things.

Jealousy flared up again, even though he’d just been kissing her. After all, Jasper was Tamara’s old friend and he had somehow convinced the last girl who liked Call to like him better.

The thought was like a splash of cold water. Abruptly he realized several things: (1) Kissing created a haze of stupidity that lasted for at least ten minutes; (2) now that it had worn off, he had no idea what kissing Tamara meant; and (3) he had no idea what he was supposed to do now.

All of a sudden, Call had an overwhelming urge to grab Jasper by the collar and force him to divulge all his romantical secrets. Previously, Call had scoffed at them, but now he was ready to listen unskeptically.

“Well, I stalled as much as I could but you better get up to our rooms before Master Joseph notices you’re missing,” Jasper said. Then his annoyance faded. “Did you find anything?”

Tamara nodded. They started up toward the pink room, Call trailing behind. Sleeping in the same room made him feel weird. He recalled sleeping next to her on the cot in Alastair’s car barn. That had been a little strange, but nothing like it was going to be just to share a room now.

Tamara was beautiful, brave, awesome. He thought she was destined to go out with someone heroic like Aaron, or throwing herself away on a jerky aristocrat like Jasper. The idea that she liked him after all, when he had been sure she did, then was sure she didn’t, still had his head reeling.

He gave Jasper the side-eye thinking about jerky aristocrats, as he settled himself on his mattress on the floor. Tamara went into the bathroom and came out in purple pajamas with ruffles at the shoulders.

Just looking at her made his chest ache in a new, panicky way. If there was one thing he knew about himself, it was that he could take any good thing and make a mess out of it.

“What did you find?” Jasper asked.

“Jericho’s diary,” Call said. “I haven’t read it yet, but maybe there’s something in there.” He paused, realizing that what he was hoping for in the diary wasn’t anything the others were interested in. “I mean, about getting to the Alkahest or getting off this island or the missing army.”

“We should go back and see if there’s something we missed,” Tamara said.

Was that an invitation to more kissing? Call couldn’t be sure. He looked her way, but she was staring up at the ceiling.

Jasper nodded. “I’ve been sticking tight to Master Joseph, but so far the only thing I’ve discovered is his chili recipe. The lesson on magical force fields wasn’t very informative.”

Call hadn’t bothered changing his clothes for bed. He stretched out on his mattress, his head full of the kiss and all the confusion that came with it.

“Good night, Call,” Tamara said with a smile that seemed to have a lot of secrets in it.

Jasper gave him a weird look. Call decided that tomorrow, he would demand that Jasper explain everything he knew about girls. Call only hoped it wasn’t too late.

For once, his dreams weren’t full of chaos.

WHEN TAMARA, JASPER, and Call woke up in the morning, the boys retreated to their own rooms to shower and change for breakfast. Call waved at Tamara as he left, but she didn’t seem to notice.

After a quick shower, Call yanked the day’s selection of Constantine’s clothes out of the closet with distaste — another day, another flannel shirt. He wished he had his own stuff to wear.

As he pulled his jean jacket back on, Jericho’s diary fell out of the inner pocket. Call picked it up, turning it over slowly in his hands. Constantine’s brother had owned this book. Had written in it. Call had never thought of Jericho as a person, had never really thought of him at all. Even when he had stood over Jericho’s preserved body in the tomb of the Enemy, he had thought only about what Constantine must have felt when his brother had died.