“Matilda,” Oscar Gray said. “May I have a word with you?”
I hadn’t expected him to visit. I answered the door.
“So good to see you,” he said. “I hope your training wasn’t too strenuous?”
“Training?”
“With the other galvanized.” He had a sparkle in his eyes. He must have known that there wasn’t really any training, and that it was actually just a chance for the galvanized to get together and relax.
“It was fine,” I said. “Educational.”
“Good, good. Can you tell me when you last saw Abraham?”
“Early this afternoon.”
“And what did he say when you were with him?”
“That he had been summoned by Slater Orange. He said you’d know that.”
“I do. Did he say anything else about that meeting?”
“Nothing I remember.”
“And how long did it take you to navigate your way here?”
“I got lost.” I couldn’t mention Reeves Silver. I couldn’t mention the deal and Quinten. I couldn’t mention Grandma or Neds or anything.
But I didn’t have to be completely silent. “Do you have any news on my brother?” I asked, even though it made my stomach cinch into knots.
“Nothing yet,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll know something soon. You’ll need to pack your things. We’ll be leaving in a few minutes.”
“To the gathering?”
“Yes.”
“Where is it being held?”
“Hong Kong,” he said with a smile. “Vibrant city. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“What about Abraham?”
“I’ll worry about Abraham. You just follow Elwa’s instructions and everything will fall together. The woman’s maddening, but she does run a tight ship. House Gray wouldn’t be the same without her.”
I nodded, my thoughts running too fast. “Do you think Abraham is safe? With Slater Orange?” I couldn’t tell him what Vice had shown me, but I couldn’t just stand here if Abraham might be in danger too. Unless he and Oscar had double-crossed me too.
No. There was no use seeing evil in every shadow. I had to trust someone. Oscar had earned my trust.
“Why would you ask that?” Oscar said.
Abraham had said Oscar was a good man, a moral man. I hoped to hell he was right.
“Robert Twelfth was acting very strangely at the training. There was an . . . altercation.”
“Altercation?”
“He came into my bedroom, waving a gun. He said he thought I was in danger, but . . .” I bit my lip. Shook my head.
“What else, Matilda? Why are you crying?”
