Secrets of the Guardian (Waldgrave Book 3) (4 page)

It was a good lie; as beautiful as many lies often were. It sounded good, which was what she had intended, but then, she wasn’t even sure how much of it was a lie. In theory, it was possible that she wasn’t even a descendant of Pyrallis Daray. It was possible that Ava hadn’t been his daughter, or maybe she was his daughter, but either way, she wanted it to die with him. It was time for the Council to move forward, and for their own sakes, it was better that she didn’t throw so much doubt into everyone’s minds. As the past few years had taught her, ignorance was bliss—she had been happier before she knew about Pyrallis’s lies. She had been much happier before she knew about the Silenti at all. The portal was her secret; and like her grandfather, she was willing to take it to the grave with her. No one would ever know, because this was where the insanity ended.

She watched Jason, hoping he believed her, but he didn’t say anything. He was just quiet; Lena tried to relax back into her chair. Real or not, if she had to deal with one more conspiracy involving that damn portal and all the hype her grandfather had created around it…

The hair on the back of her neck prickled, and Lena had the uncomfortable thought that she was being watched without knowing it; Rollin leapt to the forefront of her mind and she spun around. Standing in the open door were Master Prescot (his wrist was still in a brace from the bullet he had taken at the same shooting that took Matias Rivera’s life) and Master Astley.

Realizing she was being too casually improper, Lena shot up out of her chair, tried to straighten herself out, and gave them a nod. How long had they been standing there? Doctor Evans walked up behind them, and then spoke over Master Astley’s shoulder in Lena’s direction.

“I’d like a moment, if you have one.” He said, looking curiously from Master Prescot to Master Astley.

“Sure. Excuse me.” Lena pushed passed the two men to meet the doctor in the living room, where he pulled her off into a corner. He was wearing scrub pants, but he had thrown a jacket on over his scrub top. Despite his informal appearance, he had an entirely serious tone to his voice. He must have been up tending to Devin all night, but he didn’t look tired at all.

“He’s pulling through.” He said, looking her directly in the eye. “But you need to understand that this isn’t the end. He’s in a good deal of pain, which we are treating, but this is not the end of the surgeries.”

He paused. Lena gave him a nod. “Okay.”

Unbothered, he continued. “If he were a full Silenti, he might have been able to heal himself henceforth, but it’s just not the case. I’m still a little concerned that he might be susceptible to some bacterial infections, so we’re going to have to keep an eye on him. The bullets did quite a number on his intestinal tract, so he’ll be eating via I.V. with his meds and antibiotics for a while—maybe not long, depending on how quick his organ regenerative processes are, but he is a human-born, so I don’t expect much. He’s lost a kidney, and he’ll need dialysis, at least for a while. His liver is doing pretty well given that we had to remove about a third of it. Okay?”

“Okay.” Lena said perfunctorily.

“Okay.” Doctor Evans blinked for what felt like the first time since he started talking. “Do you have any questions?”

Lena thought back to the first conversation she had ever had with Doctor Evans, several weeks ago, and knew that there would be a price for saving Devin’s life. And whatever it was, she was happy to pay it. “Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you to treat him? Of course, anything you need is yours…”

The doctor raised his hand to stop her. “I have everything I need. We’ll discuss the details later. Is there anything else?”

“Can I talk to him?”

“Oh,” Doctor Evans looked surprised and wiped a hand across his face, looking away briefly. “Well, if you really need to, I can wake him up.”

Lena felt her eyes go wide. It was evident that his previous employer hadn’t always had the patient’s best interests at heart. “Oh! No! Not like that. I would just like to talk to him as soon as he’s awake, that’s all. I don’t want him to be in any pain. It’s nothing important, I just want to see him and talk to him.”

“Well,” he sighed, “That’s going to be a little tricky. Awake—as in conscious—is a little bit hard, too…He won’t be conscious for several days, probably. I’d prefer to keep him under until we’ve stabilized him better. He’s going to be on so many painkillers that he probably won’t know where he is.”

“Oh…” Lena looked away. A whole week?

The doctor gave her a sidelong glance. “But, well…you might be able to talk to him later. After dinner tonight, perhaps. He won’t be conversational, and anything he says probably won’t make any sense, but he’ll know you’re there.”

Lena looked back at the doctor. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”   

“Not at all.” He smiled, sending tiny creases scampering around his old eyes. “If you need anything, my assistants know where to find me, but I’ll be down for dinner and then we can go up together, if you like.”

“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 reflection 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; she still had nightmares where she was fumbling with something sharp and jagged to loose the bonds that held her hands tied behind her back. In the dreams, it wasn’t cheap cord—it was barbwire. 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 clothes 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.” Lena cringed; there was no Daray
 
family
 anymore. Pyrallis and Ava were dead, and Griffin was only a Daray by proxy, if he ever came back. It was only her now. “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.”