Deception of the Magician (Waldgrave Book 2) (37 page)

“Yes, that would good. Thank you, doctor.”

He smiled and walked away back up the stairs toward the library and the upper floors. It was going to be hard not being able to talk to Devin about what had happened, but at least he would know she was there. That was what really mattered, and dinner wasn’t that far off.

She looked back toward the greenhouse; she wasn’t sure if the three people waiting there expected her to come back or not. She had been right in the middle of a conversation with Jason Rivera, but she wasn’t sure if the conversation was done or not. She had left quite suddenly, and if they were expecting her back, it was going to look snobbish if she didn’t return. She was the only one in the group that wasn’t a full member of the Council, and given her history with each member, she didn’t want to seem too presumptuous by returning too quickly or not at all. She trudged back to the greenhouse as gracefully as she could.

Masters Prescot and Astley were seated on the opposite side of Jason Rivera; they had left her seat available, which probably meant they were expecting her back. She took a deep breath, remembered where she had left off, and hoped everyone else had forgotten.

“My apologies for the intrusion,” she said as she walked back over to her chair and sat down, “the victim from yesterday is posing some unique challenges.”

She looked up, but tried not to let her eyes linger too long. The silence hung heavier than any Lena had previously experienced. Master Prescot spoke first. “Nobody blames you for what happened.”

She glanced back up, and couldn’t help but notice the brace on Master Prescot’s wrist again. “It was my proposal. It was my responsibility, and I’m very sorry for everything that happened to—“

Master Prescot looked directly at her. “Miss Collins, you seem to place a value on the lives of those around you that is unwarranted by your family history. While I’m not as staunch a believer in the old ways as many on the Council, I suggest you stop making it so blatantly obvious that you care before someone decides to use it against you. Frankly, I’ve been impressed with how well you’ve handled yourself since escaping your ordeal, so mind that you don’t go wandering back the way you came. Feel however you want to, but the rest of us don’t want or need to know about it.”

Lena looked directly back at him, trying not to seem taken off guard. At first, it had sounded like an insult; then he had complimented her, and she realized he was offering advice. “Thank you, sir, I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

The silence returned for several minutes, and Lena found herself staring into the reflections of the circular pond in the middle of the greenhouse floor; Pete was doing a good job of keeping it up. Hardly any pond scum.

Master Astley broke her train of thought. “So, what do you know about this Rollin Miller character?”

Lena looked away. So that was why they were here. “I was hoping to gather some more details of what he’s up to from our survivor, but that could be a while.” She looked back over. They were all watching her. “He’s arrogant, I can tell you that much. Brilliant, too. Didn’t think much of me, obviously, because he left me in a room by myself, but I doubt he’ll make the mistake of underestimating anyone ever again.”

Lena looked down at her palms. Most of the scarring from the mirror shard had healed over into little lightning white traces, except for the small sections of laceration that went across creased parts of her hand—those places kept ripping open when she gripped her hands too tightly in her sleep. Just looking at the scars brought the adrenaline and the panic back to her. Her heart was pounding.

Master Prescot leaned forward. “Do you think he stands a chance of negotiating?”

“Negotiating?” Lena raised her eyebrows, still staring down at her open hands. “I doubt that negotiations will ever take place. You honestly believe the Council would negotiate after what he did?”

Master Prescot shrugged. Of course the Council would be willing to negotiate—at times, they were no better than Rollin themselves. If Griffin didn’t step up and start doling out orders, they would start fighting amongst themselves and deaths were to be expected before a winner emerged. As much as they detested human-borns, Rollin was speaking their language; many of the Old Faith Representatives probably wanted to get him at the table to have a chance at making an ally before they shot him.

“He won’t negotiate.” Lena continued. “He distrusts the whole system and everything it represents. He wants to die. He wants to be a martyr, and believe me when I say that he won’t let it happen while he’s trying to make peace. I suggest you tell people to keep the family together and lock the doors, because he wants revenge, not progress.” Then something occurred to her that hadn’t before—she couldn’t believe that she had forgotten. She looked up. “What was on the note? Wasn’t there a note attached to Dev…the victim’s cloths yesterday?”

“He said he’s not bothering with hostages anymore.” Master Astley grunted. “And something about slow deaths for traitors, if he finds any more of them. I take it this unlucky fellow was one of yours?”

“The friend that helped me escape, yes.” Lena sat back, trying not to look too concerned over the fact that Rollin wasn’t taking hostages. And it was her fault.

Jason Rivera looked over at her. “Do you believe he’s serious about—“

“Absolutely.” Lena cut him off unblinkingly. “Like I said, he already expects to die. It doesn’t matter how many he takes with him.”

Master Astley cleared his throat. “Miss Collins, I believe we all know that your history within the Council has been somewhat mottled by the past transgressions of your grandfather and your own rebellious streak. I also believe that given the reports of your behavior before the incident from certain colleagues of mine, you stand a fair chance of making a strong political ally in the future for integrationist interests. Your upbringing, and the fact that you seem to have spent a decent amount of time associating with human-borns, makes you the ideal candidate to head negotiations, if you’re willing to accept the post.”

She almost laughed, and then realized he was serious. Lena felt her stomach drop. She didn’t want to head negotiations with Rollin. And as she thought she had made clear, Rollin really wasn’t in it for the negotiations.

Master Astley narrowed his eyes. “We believe that we’re more likely to get the votes to put a human-born, and human-raised, candidate on the Council if you call for it. The fact that you believe the portal is gone and the religion is dead hasn’t changed many of the Old Faith minds on the issue.”

“You want me to use my religious standing to get votes?” Lena looked off out the window. It wasn’t a ridiculous request; she had been asked to do it before. It almost didn’t even bother her anymore to think of the religion and the politics as one in the same, and while Master Astley’s suggestion was only lukewarm as far as ideas she liked went, it was morally higher than some things that had been asked of her in the past.

Master Astley drummed his fingers in the narrow arm of his chair. “I want you to use your unique position to correct a social wrong that has gone on for too long. And before you answer, if you do this for us, the New Faith would probably look much more kindly on voting to release some of the travel restrictions placed on your family. So take some time to think about it, talk it over with your uncle, and then let us know. We’re not asking a lot, really; you’ve made it clear whose side you wish to stand on in the debate—we’re merely offering you the opportunity to do it.”

It was quite an opportunity, and she knew she would be stupid not to take it, even with how terrified she was of Rollin. The New Faith was finally calling her as one of their own…but something wasn’t right here. Lena gave the three men a sidelong glance. “Did you give him money?”

Three blank stares met her. As she looked from one face to the next, she wasn’t sure if she believed their innocent faces until Jason said, 
“Are you insane?”

Lena looked quickly down at her knees. “He mentioned a backer. He has enough guns to arm a small militia—and apparently he has. 
Someone
 is giving him money, and I think we can all understand that it’s obviously someone who has money to give.”

She looked back up. Jason looked shocked. The older men looked slightly taken off guard, but still composed—the political poker faces gained through years of experience. But Lena was almost sure they hadn’t known up to that point that Rollin had implicated one of their own in providing him the means to his ends.

She watched their frozen faces for several long moments before sighing and looking back off across the grounds through the greenhouse windows. She had finally gained their trust, and it sickened her more than she expected it too. She had become one of them—she had only too recently confirmed that the religion she represented was quite possibly true even if she wasn’t who her grandfather had said she was, and she was still all too willing to sell it out for a dog and pony show to drum up support for human-born representation. But only for the greater good, she told herself.

She shook her head, trying not to let herself sink into the depressing thoughts that haunted her. “Let me discuss the issue with my uncle, and let me see to the fact that my friend makes a full recovery. He might be able to tell me—us, things that we don’t know regarding Rollin. Until then, and under the condition that you get a vote to amend my travel restrictions to those of a regular Council Representative, assume I’m in.”

*****

CHAPTER 3

As had been her habit lately, she hardly touched her dinner that night. The wait was agonizing, but she finally followed Doctor Evans up the stairs to the room that Devin was being treated in. It was, ironically, just down the hall and around the corner from Griffin’s old room, and not too far from Master Daray’s room, either; how the tables had turned. Griffin had sworn Devin would never again enter Waldgrave’s halls, and now here he was, receiving the best treatment that money and bribery could buy in a room that had until recently been reserved for Daray’s most loyal supporters.

When they got to the door, the doctor opened it and motioned Lena in as a tearful Cheryl quickly scampered out and away down the hall. Lena gazed after her; it was the first time she had seen the girl since returning to Waldgrave. Someday soon she was going to have to have a serious conversation with Cheryl—Kelsey—regarding her long lost family. Not too long after that, if the Council approved lifting her current travel restrictions, she suspected the two of them would be taking a trip together; Cheryl wouldn’t be returning from that trip. Lena wasn’t sure yet how she would explain her absence; in a perverse way it might work to her advantage that everyone thought that Cheryl was just another human-born, because they might not even notice if she went missing.

“She’s been near a permanent fixture up here while we’ve let her. Poor girl. So worried about him, just sits up here, watching and crying. I wish there were more we could do.” Doctor Evans cast a wary glance after Cheryl, and then looked over at Lena. “Such noble creatures to let themselves feel so deeply.”

He led her into the room, where a screen had been set up around an area in the corner of the large bedroom; she drew in a deep breath when she saw it. Lena watched the doctor’s back as he walked towards the curtain, trying to prepare herself for what was coming. But when Doctor Evans took her beyond the stark curtain, she found it really wasn’t that bad.

He was a cocoon; a yellow blanket obscured everything but his pale and glistening face. His body was bulky beneath it, swelling unnaturally around the abdomen, where Lena imagined he had a great deal of bandaging. There were many cords and lengths of piping sticking out from under the blankets, belonging to various machines and drips stationed around the bed. Blood going in, blood going out, blood going back in; nutrients being fed to him. The blue respiration tube that someone had carefully forced down his throat looked achingly uncomfortable, but the doctor’s words that Devin probably didn’t even know where he was, let alone if he had both kidneys, floated back to her. His hair was darker than she ever remembered it being, but perhaps it was because he had lost so much blood, and his face was paler by comparison.

She walked to the head of the bed, edging past what she suspected was the machine filtering waste out of his blood, and carefully laid one hand on his cheek. He was cool and clammy, and didn’t respond at all to her touch.

Devin?

Beneath his closed eyelids, she saw his eyes move.

Devin, if you can understand me, I’m not going to hurt you…You’re okay now, and I’m here, and I’m going to check on you, okay?

She felt her throat go dry as her hand moved up to his forehead so that her thumb rested just above his left eye. Trying not to shake, she carefully peeled the lid back. His pupil didn’t contract, and he didn’t close his eye on his own when she let go, but she found herself so happy that she could have cried. He was still going to live.

She looked up at Doctor Evans, who was leaning casually on a piece of equipment on the other side of the bed.

He cracked a smile. “Just checking? Good news, then?”

Lena tried to let herself smile, but it didn’t come naturally. “Yes. Good news.”

His tone was almost a chuckle. “How I wish I had your talents, Ms. Collins, they would be absolutely invaluable in a career such is mine. Your grandfather wasn’t nearly as forthcoming as you were about such things.”