There was a silence.
I felt my throat close somewhat, and struggled to clear it.
“Alaric was going to run,” I said, frankly. “He wanted me to go with him.”
There was a silence.
Then Professor Rafe Quicksilver scoffed.
“Is that all?” he asked derisively. “Seems an awful lot of work if that was your sole intention. Why not just run now? Why wait?”
An image of Bones slid through my mind, forcing me to remember why I’d really done it, what I’d been after more than anything else, at least at first.
I pushed the thought aside at once.
I considered not answering Quicksilver at all, but the truth was, he’d hit upon the crux of things between me and Alaric. There was a reason why I’d never given my friend a firm answer as to whether or not I’d go with him.
I’d known all along it wasn’t realistic, not for me.
I never could have left my brother behind to deal with Dark Cathedral without me. I never would have left my friends behind, either. And anyway, where would I even go? What would be the point of running, if everywhere I went suffered from the same disease?
The truth was, I don’t think I ever seriously contemplated disappearing with Alaric into some royalist enclave. I never resented Alaric for the impulse, and I’d always figured at some point, he would go, but I never thought I’d go with him.
I let Alaric believe I might, maybe just so he wouldn’t feel so alone.
“No,” I acknowledged to Quicksilver. “I suppose I never really believed that, not for me. I always intended to stay. To find ways to fight back.” I glanced at Forsooth, flushed a little, and looked around at the rest of the faces. “I didn’t know your group existed at the time, but I thought along these lines… of organizing something that might counteract Dark Cathedral,even if it was only my friends at first. I had to believe Dark Cathedral’s ideology represented a minority in Magique. I already know a lot of Magicals who would be horrified if they knew what they had planned. I had to believe that would be even more true in the wider population, since this is an elite institution with an unusually high number of wealthy royals.”
At the silence this produced, I cleared my throat.
I glanced at Forsooth, and he beamed at me.
“My thoughts around this were probably pretty naive,” I admitted, clearing my throat. “But it was the only option I could see that felt remotely realistic to me.”
I glanced at Valor and Esalia, then back at Blackstone.
Another silence fell.
I took a sip of hot chocolate, then another deep breath.
“We never did identify the Priest,” I added. “In case you’re wondering that. I never got to the real face behind the mask. I got impressions a few times, images of a location, mostly… but no names, no faces, and not enough to know what I was looking at, or for Alaric to recognize where I was. I went into a full-blown trance a few times, but those the times I got the most information, so after discussing it, we kept going. The last time that happened, I saw most of the room the Priest was in. It still wasn’t enough for Alaric to identify it, although we looked for family crests, insignia rings, reflections, distinctive art pieces, and so on.”
At the dead silence this produced, I swallowed another mouthful of hot chocolate.
“We obviously couldn’t use the same methods once school resumed,” I continued. “But we set up a coded language to communicate any news. The last broadcast we listened to was from The Eyrie. It got cut off, as I said, right as I was beginning my trace.” I swallowed, biting my lip when my eyes stung beforeI could hold it back. “We both thought we’d been seen. It’s probably why Alaric panicked and wrote his brother.”
I fell silent, conscious suddenly of just how intently I was being stared at. Every mage and witch in the circle of chairs seemed to be holding their breaths.
“I have research notes I can share,” I offered. “We recorded the broadcasts, so you’ll likely want those. As part of one of the chimaeras I set up, I had every word transcribed magically into a book I’d spelled, along with my notes, and our discussions afterwards. I also spelled the book to record audio and visual, including my visions during every tracking attempt, which can be accessed via a magical key. I wiped everything from the chimaeras between broadcasts, and of course I dismantled all of it before I left London, but I thought––”
“Leda,” Esalia broke in.
She sounded tense, like she couldn’t stop herself from interrupting. She clasped her hands, staring at me like she wanted to shake me by the shoulders.
“That wasextremelydangerous,” she said sharply. “You realize that, don’t you? Both of you could have ended up taken––”
“Or dead,” Valor cut in, blunt.
He stared at me, a rocks glass in one hand where he rested his arms on his thighs. He looked like he wanted to say a lot more.
