Part of me, but not a very big one, wishes the sentence will swing in Maxwell’s favor. To stop what will come if it doesn’t, before it has to be explored.
“He would be foolish to relinquish his title. The Veil built him up, and we will watch him crumble all the same.” The Head steps back, and starts for the door. “Either way, Elias will make a good substitute.”
“He will.” I’m not pleased by it, but I can’t fault the logic either. Elias dedicated his life to the Veil long before my father became the Head. And as he gets older, it makes sense for him to take on the more leisurely role of an advisor instead of being my lookout at the bookstore.
Although, I will miss him at the door.
“Speaking of Henderson…” The Head cuts himself off, expecting an answer to a question he didn’t ask.
“He has been collected and awaits trial below.”
“Excellent. Come. Walk with me.” He starts for the door. I follow.
“When this matter is out of the way, I will announce Maybelle’s position as Spirit. If Maxwell should be found guilty, the same will be done for Elias as Hand.”
Ah, so he didn’t know after all. That gives me reason to believe Elias isn’t on board with this. I’m glad. Perhaps, despite all my many assumptions about this, Elias won’t just bow down and let the Head trample over him.
“What about Lilith?” Merely speaking her name forms a pit in my stomach. I crave more than a simple taste of her.
“She’s of no concern. An unwanted accessory,” he says.
I stifle the low growl that’s threatening to leak from the back of my throat.
We make the rest of the walk through the halls and down the stairs of the Crawford mansion in silence. A short journey through the garden brings us to a nondescript building. It’s situated near a lake and the stables, and to onlookers, it could be any number of things; a toolshed, a supply store, or even just some long-forgotten construction that has been left for nature to consume.
Stepping inside, however, one realizes it’s none of these options. Apart from a single rack against one wall, it’s empty. But it’s not what you can see that makes this room special. It’s what you can’t. Beneath a trap door that blends seamlessly into the wooden floor around it, a stairway presents itself.
The stairs are carved from stone and lead into the Head’s chambers. Each wall contains a door that leads to one of the many hidden environments, to which the Veil’s scribes commute on a daily basis. We blast through the chamber,into the North door, and down a final tunnel that brings us to the Grand Hall.
When we reach the ornate double doors outside it, the Head stops and takes me by the wrist.
“Do you trust me, Ghost?”
“With my life.” I have no hesitation. Until proven otherwise, my theories are just that. Theories.
I won’t let them cloud my duty.
“Then believe that I’m doing what’s best for the Veil. In time you’ll come to understand it, but for now, trust me.” His words linger in my ears uncomfortably, somehow proving and disproving every conclusion I’ve come to so far.
He releases me and slips his right hand into his opposite sleeve, drawing his mask from it.
Like mine, it’s almost human in design, but not quite. That’s where the similarities with my mask end. Instead of pure ivory, the Head’s mask is decorated with gold, emeralds, and rubies. It’s a symbol of the wealth and power that only he can command.
He slips it over his face, and pushes the double doors open.
The Great Hall is carved out of the very rock that creates this cave. The pillars holding the ceiling above us, depict the Veil’s sigil on each face, an ornately designed V resting atop a depiction of the North Star.
It’s simple in design, but our symbol carries centuries of weight in its meaning. It’s meant to symbolize how we always look North, to the future, guided there by some higher power.
The Veil congregates on one side of the room. Our members sit along the back wall, elevated for viewing ease and protected by a wooden rail that’s draped in the same maroon cloth that our people wear.
The Council sits before them on a platform, right in front of the action.
Tonight, only two of the five seats are filled. The Heart and the Spirit.
My place is not beside them tonight. It’s to oversee our prisoner, for the Head.
“There’s a Judas among us,” the Head begins. No need for preamble or greetings. Those of importance know why they’re here. The others are here to bear witness to what happens to anyone who stands in our way.
