“Is that the reason just a moment ago I could see your—” Jack coughed, glancing at Ash. “Never mind.”
“I expect more of you, Jack,” Ash said. “She’s just a girl.”
“She’s not just a girl—she’s your sister. And that means you think she’s five years younger than she really is. Wake up, friend.” Jack laughed, but covered it with another cough when Ash glared at him.
“She is standing right here, and she does not appreciate being talked about like a child,” Charlotte said, lifting her chin.
Ash turned to her. “I know Jack can be irritating, Charlotte, but you shouldn’t let him draw you into his pranks.”
“If he weren’t so irritating, I wouldn’t have been so tempted to give him a taste of his own medicine.”
Jack returned to lounging against the door frame. “Ummm, irritating Jack is standing right here too.” He fixed his eyes on Charlotte, mischief filling his gaze once more. “And is that what that was? My own medicine? Interesting.”
“Shut it, Jack.” Ash whirled on him. He grabbed Jack by the collar and shoved him down the hall. “The only reason you’re not bleeding right now is that I know that you know better than to insult my sister.”
“He insults me every day!” Charlotte protested.
Jack started to reply, but Ash cut him off. “You’ll stay bruise free if you shut that trap of yours. Get down to the dock and see if Birch needs help getting the Pisces ready for tomorrow’s launch.”
For a moment, Jack’s face twisted as if he would argue, but instead he mock saluted Ash, saying, “Whatever you think is best, sir,” and walked away.
Ash sighed, shaking his head.
“You should have punched him,” Charlotte offered. “He needs a good punch.”
“I’m not sure what Jack needs, but I’m absolutely certain you don’t know.” Ash frowned. “Tell me again why you were undressing in front of him?”
The way her brother posed the question made Charlotte squirm. “I wasn’t undressing in front of him.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Well, if you have to be literal about it, I suppose I was.” Charlotte spread her hands, exasperated. “But it was only because he walked in without knocking and then wouldn’t admit he’d done anything wrong.”
“So you decided the best thing to do was to keep taking your clothes off?” Ash asked.
Charlotte refused to give in to her brother’s obvious attempt to shame her. “I know what you’re trying to do, Ash, but it wasn’t like that. You know how Jack is.”
“Yes,” Ash said. “I do know how Jack is. And I’m sure he was goading you one way or another. But, Charlotte, you must understand—no matter how well you think you know Jack, he’s still a man.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Her brother’s voice faltered. “I mean . . . it’s difficult to say. You don’t know as much about men as you think you do. Mother hasn’t been here to speak with you—”
“I know about men and women, Ash. I’m not a little girl, no matter how much you refuse to accept that. Jack was right. You do think I’m five years younger than I am.”
Ash straightened, shaking a finger at her. “So you think young women of your oh-so-mature age have license to strip in front of any man who bursts into their room?”
“It wasn’t any man, it was Jack!” Charlotte spat. “And it was just a stupid game.”
“I don’t know if it was only a game,” Ash said coldly. “But it was most certainly stupid. And childish. If you want to prove that you’re an adult, then act like one. I’m of half a mind to leave you here tomorrow.”
Charlotte felt angry tears creeping into her eyes. “You would never talk to Jack or Birch like this! They’re always joking and pranking.”
“Jack and Birch aren’t my sisters.” His voice was gentler. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“You think Jack would hurt me?” Charlotte blinked her tears away, looking up at her brother’s face. “But I thought you trusted him.”
“I do. And he wouldn’t hurt you. At least not . . . purposefully.” Ash choked a little on the words.
She was surprised to see crimson creeping up his neck, coloring his ears.
“I shouldn’t be the one to—” He met her puzzled gaze and quickly looked away. “I’ll ask Meg.”
“Ask Meg what?” Charlotte crossed her arms, fully prepared to sulk. “Are you really not going to let me come tomorrow?”
Caught up in his own thoughts, Ash’s reply was distracted. “No . . . it’s just . . . never mind. I can’t afford to leave you here. You’re too good with the POC.”
“She’s called Pocky, and of course I am.” Charlotte’s anger withered, and she flung her arms around her brother, kissing him on the cheek. “And you’d miss me too much.”
Ash tensed up for a moment, but his temper had cooled and he ruffled her hair.
Stepping back, Charlotte said, “What did you want anyway? Jack said you sent him to find me.”
“I did.” Ash’s scowl returned momentarily. “And I came to find you myself because he was taking too long.”
Not wanting to revisit their argument, she quickly asked, “Well, what do you need?”
“Meg came to the refectory,” Ash said, looking tired. “Grave just woke up.”
“Who?”
“Your stray.”
“You’re calling him Grave?” Charlotte asked.
“Birch is,” Ash told her. “I guess I picked up the habit.”
Charlotte shrugged. “What about him?”
“He wants to leave the workshop, and we’d like to keep him there. We can’t risk him wandering around the Catacombs.”
“Do you really think he poses a threat?” Charlotte asked. If anything, the stranger Birch had christened Grave seemed sick or mentally unhinged, but not dangerous.
Ash shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what I think. We can’t be too cautious. Even if he’s perfectly harmless, he’d get lost in the tunnels without a guide.”
Charlotte nodded. New inhabitants of the Catacombs were required to have a seasoned resident with them until they could manage to navigate the tunnels on their own.