“What are you all gossiping about over here?”
The interruption came from Lamorat Lucas, who had left his aides and was standing on the final step, a careful distance away from Dudon’s body. The Conclave member looked around the group and his already grave expression tightened.
“We’re not getting out of here, are we?” Lamorat asked.
“Not this way and not right now, no,” the director answered. He lifted a brow at Accalon.
“The door at the other side is blocked as well, sir,” Accalon reported. “After what happened here, I didn’t want to try too hard.”
“No. Quite right,” Peredur said, eyes travelling back to Dudon’s body. He’d closed the young man’s eyes, Hallie noted, but the body was far too still to be anything but dead.
“We have a very serious problem,” Cotovatre said, addressing Lamorat. “Somehow two criminals - one human, one non-human - got into the building earlier. Let’s assume for now that they are the ones who set the explosives. Even though they are both skilled in their own way, they had to have had help.”
“You’re saying someone in the building was helping them,” Lamorat said slowly.
“And you’d already thought of that,” Hallie said, eyes narrowing as she looked at the man. “I don’t believe that you would have had anything to do with this. Any idea who might?”
“Thank you,” Lamorat said, inclining his head to Hallie, and letting his gaze stay on her face for a moment before he looked at Cotovatre. “A truly remarkable young woman. A worthy heir.”
“I agree with you, but you haven’t answered her question,” Cotovatre said, lifting her brows in a silent prompt.
“You will have your own guesses,” Lamorat responded. He moved, coming up the last step to stand beside Cotovatre, gaze travelling over the room. “One or more of us.”
Hallie heard sharp intakes of breath around her. It seemed that despite the awful events of the afternoon, with a river of molten metal, death and explosions, the thought that one or more Conclave members might be involved in the events was still shocking. She found herself unsurprised, some of the puzzle pieces clicking together in her mind.
“We’ve had really bad luck,” she said to no one in particular. “Girard and I spent two weeks travelling, trying to track down Findo Trask and, honestly, I don’t feel we ever got close. And I am good at finding people,” she said, with no vanity. It had been her job for ten years. “Then, when we did eventually find a broker who might lead us to Findo, we were attacked. The broker and two other people were killed. When we tried to bring in a forger who might have given us information on Findo, more attackers turned up.” She glanced at Girard. “We have wondered how anyone knew where we were or how to find us.”
“The daily reports. They would have contained enough information for someone to piece together where you were, what you were up to,” Peredur said, his face white, purple shadows from strain and exhaustion stark under his eyes. “And not just them, but calls from various Conclave members wanting an update on the investigation.” The pallor on his face bloomed into fury. “Someone has betrayed those confidences.” His eyes fell on Dudon’s body and the fury deepened. “Someone in this room has betrayed all of us, and caused all of this.”
Hallie found herself nodding. It made sense. It was not comfortable, but it fit what they knew and what they had suspected so far. She had a hard, ugly knot in her stomach, the sense that there was more to come growing with each moment. Too much planning had gone into the events so far for the schemers to simply stop now.
“But who?” Lamorat asked. He didn’t seem to expect an answer, eyes continuing their sweep of the room. Hallie noted that he didn’t look at Cotovatre or the other two Conclave members standing nearby. He’d ruled them out. Knowing Cotovatre better than any other Conclave members, Hallie had no difficulty in deciding her ancestor was not responsible. But she took a long, hard look at the Conclave members and decided Lamorat was almost certainly right about their lack ofinvolvement in any plot. They had been trying to get out of the door, after all, and had been very close to the explosion. It was only luck that neither of them had been seriously injured or killed. They had shown nothing but shock at the events, and the idea that one or more of their fellow Conclave members had betrayed them.
“Let’s ask some questions, see what we can learn,” Girard suggested, looking at Hallie. He, Cotovatre and Emmet were the only ones who knew about her truth sense. A chill washed over her skin as she realised she might be the only one in the room who could uncover the traitor. Girard turned to Peredur. “Sir, if I may, we still need a way out of this room. The exits are all blocked.”
“Do you think the commander and the others will be trying to get to us?” Hallie asked, directing her question between Girard and Peredur. Commander Rojas was extremely competent, and she could not imagine him and the rest of his team simply sitting still waiting for someone else to tell them what to do. Assuming they had survived. Which she was choosing to believe until it was proven otherwise. Not only had she seen too many people die already, but she had a strong feeling that the commander and his team would be needed before the day was done.
“Without question,” Girard said.
“I am sure he will,” Peredur said, with the same quiet confidence that resonated with Hallie’s truth sense. “Right. You two go, ask your questions. Call for backup if needed. Meantime, I’ll work with the others to find a way out.” The director turned to the pile of rubble in the doorway. “This is the obvious place for Rojas and the others to try and get in. We might be able to clear some of this, find a way through.”
“Emmet and I will come with you and Girard,” Cotovatre said to Hallie. She held up a hand before Hallie could object. “Wewill stay at a distance, but if we’re right and someone in here has betrayed us, they will be extremely dangerous.”
With a brief exchange of glances with Girard, Hallie left the small group and headed down the steps, going first to Hoel Buchanan and his group by the meeting table. She couldn’t say precisely why she headed there first, but she couldn’t help notice that they were in the safest part of the room for now - far away from the exits - and none of them had made any move to help clear the door or make any helpful suggestion about a way out.
“Miss Talbot.” Tristram Jacobs gave her a little bow as she approached. It struck a discordant note for Hallie as the gesture seemed completely genuine and at odds with the insincere tone she expected from the youngest member of the Conclave. “We owe you our deepest gratitude for saving our lives.” He gestured to the wall of gold where the doorway to the chamber had once been. “Perhaps the most terrifying thing I have ever seen. And that does make the second time that you have clearly saved my life. I do not wish it to become a habit.” And that was more like the Tristram she expected, with the slightly mocking overtone and sly humour.
“I am glad to have been able to help,” Hallie said, gaze flicking around the rest of the group. The other five men - including Hoel - had polite expressions on their faces, but she had the sense that at least a couple of them did not entirely agree with Tristram.
“How long are we going to be expected to stay here?” one of the other men asked. Cladas Larch, Hallie remembered. One of the longest-serving members of the Conclave, he wore his years deeply etched on his face and was trembling slightly. Frightened. Hallie didn’t blame him. Most of the Conclave members lived privileged lives far from violence. And they had just seen several people, including their colleagues, killed by molten gold, then their escape route had exploded, killing another person. So fear was understandable.
“We are working on a way to get out now,” Girard said, in his calm manner. “While we’re here, it would help if you would answer some questions.”
“Questions?” Cladas Larch returned, chin lifting as his trembling faded a little, fixing Girard with a stare full of what Hallie thought of ashochlenarrogance. “You presume to question us?”
“I do,” Girard answered, still in that easy manner. Hallie saw the brief confusion on the older man’s face. He’d expected Girard to back down. He’d expected to be treated with deference. And while Girard had been perfectly polite, he had also held firm, showing that deep core of integrity that had been one of the first things that had drawn Hallie to him.
“Have you heard of a man named Russet Welliver?” Hallie asked Cladas. She might have directed the question to him, but she was also watching the others in the group and saw a few of them stiffen. Her stomach twisted a little. Not just one or two but at least three people. That suggested that the planning had gone much further than she had imagined. With so many strong personalities and differing points of view in the Conclave she could easily have imagined one or two plotting together, but more than that suggested something even more rotten and damaged at the heart of the Conclave.
