by A.L. Tyler
There was a brief memorial the next day, and then the Corbett servants took the body back to California and a pregnant Mrs. Corbett. Lena wasn’t sure what was going to happen to her; Griffin had gone into seclusion to grieve, and she couldn’t ask him. From the old wash bucket that had been kicked out from under his feet, it had very obviously been a suicide; most people were of the opinion that the disgrace of losing a daughter and being politically outpaced by his son had been motivation enough, without recently having fallen out of Master Daray’s good graces. Hesper attended the memorial, though she wasn’t nearly as upset as Griffin was. She had never gotten on well with either of her parents—Griffin had been their star production, and she was just extra expense. She paid her dues but refused to be upset about the loss.
“Serena’s taking me shopping. Think you can come?”
Hesper wasn’t looking well. She had gone beyond queasiness and started vomiting. Her face looked blotchy and her hair was in a perpetual state of greasy disorder. She was spending most of her time crashed in the Mason’s room on the third floor, lying on an inflatable bed in her pajamas reading and playing games on Eric’s laptop. Despite the fact that she acted miserable, she insisted that she felt fine. Better than fine, actually—she was in the mood for shopping.
“I think I’m grounded.” Lena explained. “Or wait…no, I can go. I’m not technically grounded until after everyone leaves. I mean, if I get permission and all that jazz.”
“What’d you do?” Hesper asked with disinterest. Most of the things that got Lena in trouble ranged from boring to mild.
Lena made a face. “I can’t tell you now, but it was really, really bad. Hesper, I promise you’d be proud.”
“Well, as long as I would be proud. You’d better go ask now, because we want to go this afternoon.” Hesper said doubtfully.
Lena asked Howard, who wasn’t happy that she was asking to go, but wanted to keep up appearances…Council members don’t get grounded, after all. It was more complicated than the last time because Hesper wasn’t on anyone’s good side anymore, but Howard had the afternoon off because of the funeral and was available to take her. She felt guilty at first for making him do this, but once they were actually in the store she was very happy she had come.
Hesper made a beeline for a stack of sweats, passing up her usual designer-wear. At first, Lena thought this was because she wasn’t buying on her parent’s card anymore, but then a pattern began to emerge: pants with elastic waistbands and really baggy shirts. Lena looked at Hesper, and for the first time noticed that even though she had been vomiting every morning for a week, she was actually looking slightly fuller than usual. She grabbed her by the arm and pulled her behind a tall display of magazines.
“Are you pregnant?” She asked in an excited whisper.
Hesper rolled her eyes. “No, Lena, I just think tent shirts are all the fashion right now. Of course I’m pregnant.”
The two stared each other down for a moment. Lena shook her head in disbelief, and cracked a smile. “Was it planned?”
They laughed. Hesper said it kind of was, but it was kind of a surprise. “You and Eric…Serena knew, like, the day I got sick. The day. She knew before I did, and it was really creepy. Don’t tell anyone, though. I’m really not ready to get henpecked to death.”
They walked out from behind the display, and Serena ran up to them. “This store actually does have a maternity section.”
Howard caught on pretty quickly after that, offered his congratulations, and then wandered off to the appliances section nearby under the pretense that the washer and dryer needed to be replaced. Serena was absolutely thrilled, and walked around picking up things for Hesper to try on.
“I can’t believe there’s going to be a baby in the family! This is so exciting!” She grinned.
Hesper smiled and gave Lena a look. It was exciting. At the same time, Lena couldn’t believe Hesper was going to be a mother in less than a year. It was a little scary, but she seemed happy, so Lena tried to be happy for her. They tried on clothes for about an hour, met back up with Howard, checked out, and then Howard took them out for an early dinner to celebrate. It was amazing to Lena how much like her usual self Hesper seemed to be.
“I’m sure you’ll be a wonderful mother, Hesper.” Howard said, putting his napkin in his lap as the waitress delivered their food. “Congratulations again. Have you thought about names at all?”
“A little, but we’re not sure yet. What are you smiling at?” Hesper laughed at Lena’s expression.
“I don’t know. It’s just weird, that’s all.” Lena said.
“What?” Hesper asked.
“Well, you just got married, and I’m not even over that one yet, and now you’re having a baby. Weird.” Lena took slow, steady drinks from her soda to avoid talking any more. Hesper laughed again.
“It’s not that weird.” Hesper said. “Lots of people get pregnant. You’re telling me you don’t think there will be little Grifflets running around someday?”
Howard and Lena simultaneously choked on their food. Lena coughed. “No! Hell no!” She coughed again. She had carbonated beverage in her nasal passage. “For God’s sake, we’re eating, Hesper!”
Hesper smiled coyly. Yeah, whatever Lena.
There was an uncomfortable moment of silence as everyone stared at each other. Finally, Serena changed the subject by bringing up the exposition. It was drawing ever closer, and Howard informed the group that the meetings were progressing somewhat faster than usual since part of the year’s business had been dealt with during the unplanned meeting in April. Lena only had six days left, but she was ready. She had put a lot of thought and effort into the exposition despite the fact that Griffin had all but ensured that she would get in anyway, even if she got up and recited limericks, and she was as ready as she would ever be.
The next few days passed very much as Lena expected them to. Howard made some last minute introductions involving retired members of the Council and more recent family heirs, Lena continued to overlook Ava’s exaggerations involving Griffin as graciously as she could, Hesper kept to herself in the room on the third floor, and Serafina had gone from being a much avoided obnoxious teenager to a much avoided obnoxious newlywed.
The text translations continued with Griffin, though he remained somewhat distant and tired. Lena had to wonder what he was doing that caused him to be so perpetually fatigued; it was weird to see him expressing emotion so openly. Openly for Griffin, anyway; he claimed it was because he was work-exhausted. She had never told anyone that she had seen Master Corbett in the library the night before the suicide; she doubted it would have made any difference if she had, but there was a nagging guilt in her stomach that she hadn’t tried. They had gone over Dobry Daray’s journals again because Edward Daray’s journals were nowhere to be found, and then Griffin had finally found Silas Cassius’s books stowed in an out of the way corner on the fifth floor—one of the house hands must have thought they were junk. They certainly looked like junk.
The earlier books were fairly dull except for one fact: Silas had taken it upon himself to write out a list of special abilities possessed only by those of the royal blood. He was a very bright man, and apparently somewhat of a scientist, as he made mention of what he called “innateness that is passed from parent to child”—genetics. He commented that while Silenti of the “common” blood appeared to have abilities resembling and on occasion exceeding those of their parents if special attentions to training and education were given, some of the abilities possessed by those of the “royal” blood were exclusive—no other Silenti had ever expressed them. As Lena started translating the section, she couldn’t help but notice that Griffin seemed unusually attentive.
“What?” She asked.
“I’ve never read this one, obviously.” He said. “I’ve never heard this part.”
Lena looked back at the script. “ ‘Me and all of my kin possess…Osneks?’ Griffin?”
Griffin
furrowed his brow. “Well, os neks—two words—is ‘the sight of death.’”
“The sight of death…” Lena shivered. She knew exactly what Silas was talking about. It was a look; there was a look in someone’s eyes before they died, and she had seen it several times. It was like a person’s soul was pushing out. She had seen it countless times in her travels…as a child, she had thought it was something like eye color, because some people had it and some people didn’t, and she never stuck around long enough to hear about people’s deaths. Then there came the moment they had stepped onto the train in Egypt…her father’s eyes had changed. She hadn’t known what it meant, and thought it was a trick of the light. And then there was the week her grandmother’s eyes had changed, and she died, and Lena drew the connection. She knew what Silas was talking about. She looked up and saw that Griffin was watching her intently. She focused her attention back on the book.
“‘It is also of note that creations from the hand of one of royal blood might only be destroyed by another of royal blood.’ Wow, really?”
Griffin shook his head. “I guess so…”
Lena stared at the book for a moment, and then something dawned on her. “How can that be true? Master Daray said some of these books were destroyed in a fire, right?”
Griffin looked confused, and opened his mouth to answer, but a voice from across the room cut him off.
“That ability died out generations ago, I’m afraid…”
Lena spun around and saw Master Daray standing in the door frame, wearing his usual style of suit and still toting a cane. The color had returned to his face, but that look was still in his eyes. Osneks. Lena shuddered. Griffin stood up and offered his chair, which Daray took. Daray’s cat came trotting into the room, jumped up onto the desk, and stretched out to take a nap.
“Silas was the last of our kind to allege that ability. It was thinning of the blood, if the ability ever existed to begin with. I’m sure you’ll find several things in those old books that aren’t quite accurate—Silas was a little overzealous about his position over the other Silenti, and he made many claims that went unverified for years. Griffin, fetch a pen and paper from the desk, and the book of matches from the mantle.”
Griffin brought the requested items, and Lena watched as Master Daray wrote something out on the sheet of paper and then passed it to Griffin. “Burn it.”
Without hesitation, Griffin struck a match and the paper curled into ashes.
“There—you see? If you read on, he also claims something about how all royal blooded Silenti are innately strong thought-speak users and how they live with full sight of everything in the Silenti world…Of course, you’re proof those things aren’t true, Eden. Truly gifted Silenti are diamonds in the rough as often as not; just look at the rest of Griffin’s family if you need further proof. The clock is on the bookshelf, by the way. ”
Lena glanced over Daray’s shoulder. The bookshelf stretched in a nauseating way and books sorted themselves to the left and right as a glass-covered clock jerked up between them. The ticking that Lena had been hearing for weeks finally had a source. “So it would seem. Why are you here?”
“First and foremost, it’s my office, in my house, and I come and go as I please.” Daray said. “Now I’ve come to ask after the progress of your exposition.”
Lena’s eyes shifted to the door that concealed the library staircase. Daray laughed hollowly.
“You’re actually worried about the rules of it?” He said dismissively. “Howard has had quite an effect on you. It’s not cheating, it’s politics. All I asked was how it was going for you, not what you’re going to say.”
Lena looked down at her lap, unsure if it was really against the rules or not. “It’s going fine. I’m ready.”
Daray nodded and his thin lips curved into a smile. “That’s good, then. You’re devoted, and I admire that. You’re devoted to the wrong things in life, but I assure you you’ll see the light eventually. You remind me very much of my wife.”
Lena was taken aback. “I doubt that.”
“Why?” Daray asked.
Lena scoffed. “Someone as intelligent as me wouldn’t marry someone like you. And I doubt you’d ever want to marry someone like me, because I don’t want kids. I deal with those issues on a daily basis.”
Daray’s smile fell slightly, and Lena watched in horror as he extended a hand that landed firmly on her shoulder. “Want has nothing to do with marriage, Eden. Marriage is about responsibility and duty. And you are like her. For that reason, I’m sure we’ll come to an understanding.” The hand withdrew, and Daray stood. Lena stared into the empty chair he had been occupying, unable to move. Her heart was thudding out of control.
He struggled to straighten his poster, crutching heavily on the edge of the table. “Griffin, I need you to help me with the paperwork for the year’s travel arrangements. I’ve left a list of all the cities and dates in the desk drawer. I’m going to be predisposed again this evening, and won’t be able to make it to dinner, so have something sent up.”
“Of course.” Griffin replied.
Daray turned and started for the stairs, but then stopped. “Oh. And forget that Silas Cassius garbage. Move on to…well, I’ll find it for you. It’s an account by Dominic Cassius.” Daray closed the book on the table and took it with him as he left.
Griffin sat back down at the table. He ignored the fact that Lena was still gazing blankly into the thin air that used to be her grandfather. “He’s taken a liking to you. He doesn’t talk about his wife much.”
Lena finally released her stare and focused on Griffin. “I don’t care what he says. If she was married to him, we were nothing like each other.”
“He’s not that bad.” Griffin said. “He’s offered nothing but support for your campaign to get on the Council, even though he doesn’t like it.”
“I’m sure he’s getting something out of it. He has to be.” Lena shot a look at Griffin. “What do you know about that?”
But Griffin only smirked. “You’re so suspicious of him…did it ever occur to you that it might just be because you remind him of his wife?”
Daray didn’t seem the type to be nostalgic, but Griffin’s words still made her shudder again. She suddenly found herself hoping that he actually did have some sort of cruel and devious plan circling around her admission to the Council. He had to—Master Daray had never acted purely for the sake of anyone else’s interests. There was something missing. “Why wasn’t he angry at me?”
“For what?” Griffin asked.
“For going out that night. If you knew, he had to know. Why wasn’t he angry?”
Griffin averted his eyes for a moment, then shrugged. “He knew you were gone in the first place, and I think he finds your passive-aggressive rebellion somewhat entertaining. You treat the laws set out by the Council with the same disregard that he does. The family resemblance is stronger than you think.” Griffin smirked at her again. “Ironically, after you did it, he started to think you would be a good wife again. Not a great one, but your blatant disregard for Council rulings means we’re on the same page at least part of the time.”
Lena must have made a horrified face, because Griffin laughed. He set up a few more meeting times to work through Dominic Cassius’s writings. Griffin excused himself to start doing Master Daray’s paperwork, and Lena went back down to her room to read and unwind from her encounter.
The meetings drew to a close, and sooner than she would have thought possible, Lena found herself sitting in a waiting room attached to the main Council hall on the fifth floor. There was a stack of index cards clutched too tightly in her left hand, and five young men, ranging in age from their late teens to their mid-twenties, seated in the room with her. There were no windows, and talking amongst themselves had been prohibited. A guard, who had been chosen at random, stood next to the only door. As Lena’s luck would have it, it was Master Astley Senior; the father of the man who had tried to kill her only a few month earl
ier. Astley watched her closely, and Lena tried to ignore him by keeping her eyes focused on the wall directly in front of her.
I could have you kicked out of this whole ordeal, you know that? All I’d have to say is that I saw you or heard you do something illegal. They’d believe me.
Lena felt her throat go dry. She tried to ignore the voice in her head.
I want you to know he was framed. My son is a Christian, and he wouldn’t have tried to kill you. He was good friends with your father when he was younger. He wouldn’t have done what he’s been accused and exiled for.
Lena looked over and met the pained eyes of Master Astley. He was a ruddy-faced man with a barrel chest, thinning hair and a very wrinkled forehead. His eyes were watery, and she was finding it hard to not speak back to him. She wanted to call to Howard, but she knew that the Council was likely to take the word of Master Astley over hers. It wasn’t worth the chance.
I’m very sorry for what happened to you, and I hope you can forgive my son and my family. We’ve never gotten along, my family and your mother’s, but we’ve never wished harm on you.
The door opened, and Howard summoned Lena into the Council room.
Master Astley’s last words shocked her; the look in his eyes and the tone he took left her feeling they couldn’t be anything but genuine. Good luck.
Lena gave a last look over her shoulder at Master Astley, and then tried to push him from her mind. She tried not to think about the night it had happened, but it was coming back to her. She had never really thought about that night since it had happened, and as was her luck, it had to surface again before the biggest public speech of her life.
Lena walked out before the whole of the Council more than slightly rattled by the encounters she’d just had with Master Astley and her memories. She had initially put on a white blouse that morning, but then Mrs. Ralston had put her in a black one. Now that she was sweating profusely, she was glad she had made the switch. There were at least a hundred people staring at her. Happily, she saw that there was a stack of paper cups and a pitcher of water next to the podium she was going to speak at. She prepared herself a cup and took a tentative sip. She forced the feeling of the rope closing around her neck as far away as possible, and tried to focus on Howard’s face; he was sitting in the fourth row from the front. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, she stepped up to the podium and began.
Members of the Council, my name is Abilene Collins. I came to live here at Waldgrave the winter after my grandmother’s death; I’m sure you’re familiar with the story. Though I’m the youngest hopeful to speak here today, I have probably experienced more than any of the others. In fact, I have probably experienced and survived more obstacles than many of the people in this room. My life has dealt closely and frequently with the issues that you vote on, and I feel the consequences of the decisions made here. I’ve had the pleasure of speaking with many of you on a personal basis over the past few weeks, and…
Lena said her bit into the silence, finished, and was led out of the room by Howard. He wasn’t allowed to speak to her until the voting was done the next day, and so passed her off to Mrs. Ralston, who took her back to her room and brought up a large lunch because Lena hadn’t had the stomach for breakfast. Lena went over and over her speech in her head, hoping it had been good enough. She had never wanted respect so badly in her life; she knew she would get in, but was only now finding out how badly she wanted to get in by herself. She wanted the respect and the dignity of getting in the way that typical named heirs do, because after this point in her life, at least in her mind, she was no longer Pyrallis Daray’s granddaughter.
The next day, an hour before the last dinner the collective of visiting Silenti would share together, Howard called Lena to his office. He told her to sit down, because they had a lot to discuss concerning the way the next few years were going to be handled. There was a stack of paperwork on his desk more than a foot thick and a half-empty snifter of brandy sitting next to it. Lena wasn’t sure if this was a good sign or not. She looked up, and Howard was smiling.
“You made it.” He said.
Lena smiled and tried to act surprised. “How much? How many wanted me in?”
Howard raised his eyebrows and leaned back in his chair. “Seventy-two percent. I have to say, that was a little surprising to me, but there was evidently more at play than I knew about…”
Lena’s heart almost stopped; he knew about the deal with Daray. “Oh?”
“Well, when it got down to it, there were more reasons to let you in than I anticipated. I think your grandfather slowed us down a bit—some spoke against you on the grounds that it might prevent you from ever marrying or raising a family, but I think that won you as many votes as it lost you. A lot of people spoke in favor of you, too, but not for the reasons we had hoped. You still have a lot of proving ground to cover. It seems many, mostly in the New Faith group, wanted you in because they feel they can keep a closer eye on you if you’re tied up in meetings.”
It was true; when Council was in, Lena hardly saw Howard at all except at meals and the odd event of emergencies of some sort—like the time Griffin had snitched on her for sneaking out with the kitchen staff. “Well, at least I got in. That’s good.”
“It is.” Howard smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so proud in my life. Your dad would have been very proud. There were some complications, though. Not unforeseen, but more difficult to manage than I had thought they would be. You’re officially on the books as a Collins now, and your status as an heir means that you share equal standing with all the other heirs. You should have seen the look on Daray’s face, Lena,” Howard’s demeanor changed, and he frowned slightly, “I haven’t seen him so happy since…well, since you came to live here, actually. Your status as an independent means that there’s no legal recourse to keep Griffin out of this house anymore. We were only able to keep him out before because your grandfather was your vicarious legal custodian, and he wasn’t the type the Council wanted making decisions for you. Before, you were a young woman in need of protecting, and now you are expected to do that for yourself to a higher degree. And before you ask, no, you can’t leave either. Your name has changed but your status as a personage of conflict hasn’t—for your own safety, you still have to keep approved escorts and clear your travel plans with the Council.”
What little pang of hope she had experienced at the words ‘your status as an independent’ was fading quickly—politics sucked. Even when they acknowledged that she was fully within her legal rights to make her own decisions, they weren’t going to let her. And now Griffin was coming back to hound her every day for being less than she ought to be in her grandfather’s eyes; she had known the two of them were up to something. But still, her status now was better than it had ever been, even though Griffin was going to be allowed to hang around and harass her about her life goals.
Howard sighed. “So. Here’s how it’s going to work. Griffin lives on the upper floors and you live on the lower floors, excepting meals and meetings. Any time spent together needs to be scheduled beforehand and may only involve business, and if either one of you needs to break the pattern you have to get approval.”
Lena met Howard’s gaze. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of. How can they impose those rules? I mean, you just got done saying how we’re both independents and equals and all that.”
“Oh, those are my rules, not the Council’s. I’m still the custodian of this family. It’s my duty to keep everyone out of trouble and in good political standing, and believe me, it’s more necessary than ever. The Council wasn’t happy about Griffin moving back in, and what with the stories your mother’s been telling about how close the two of you have become over the past few weeks, I had to promise to do something about it.”
Lena heaved a sigh, and the two sat quietly for a moment. Ava and her obsession with keeping up with the Perrys. The last few weeks hadn’t been easy for her; every time she opened her mouth L
ena could swear it was to say something about how all of her friends’ kids were getting engaged, getting married, or having kids. Even Hesper, though no one knew about her condition yet. Even though Lena had accomplished becoming one of the youngest junior Council members, and the only female, she was somewhat lacking by the standards of female Silenti social success.
“Well.” Howard stood up and clapped his hands gingerly, as if trying to break the spell that had come over them. “I’m proud you made it in. It was an excellent exposition, especially compared to some of the others. I suggest you dress up tonight because a lot of people will want to congratulate you, and then after dinner you can get to work.”
“Work?” Lena asked. “Is there a meeting tonight? I thought they were done after the expositions…”
Howard clapped a hand down on the pile of papers on his desk. “These are the year’s petitions that we went over this Council. They need to be organized by subject, date, and then alphabetically, and then put into binders.” Howard’s eyes went wide and crazed; he had found his definition for being ‘grounded.’ “Welcome to the pond, new fish.”
Lena stared at the pile of papers, and then looked up at the deliriously happy expression on Howard’s face; Lena got the feeling that he wasn’t intending to do much of his own paperwork anymore. “You didn’t say anything about doing your filing when I signed up for this.”
Howard walked around the desk, clasped his hands behind his back, and stood in front of Lena. “Nor did my father. Someday, I hope you get the chance to pass on the tradition. Until then, I hope you enjoy alphabetizing things, and remember it the next time you want to go sneaking out. The Council is thoroughly outdated technologically, and you’ll find there’s always things I can find for you to sort, resort, make copies in triplicate, find, file…” Still smiling, he walked toward the door.
As she watched his retreating form, she suddenly realized that there had been something bothering her since the exposition that she had meant to ask him about. Lena twisted around in her chair. “Howard?”
“Hmm?” He paused.
“Well, it’s just…someone told me something. Someone told me that Warren Astley was a Christian, and that he used to be friends with my dad. Is that true?” She asked.
Howard turned and leaned against the door frame. He didn’t quite frown, but she could see she had evoked some sort of memory in him. “Who told you that?”
“Just someone. I don’t remember his name.” Lena lied.
Howard looked questioningly at Lena. In an apprehensive voice, he started. “Yes. He was a good friend of your father’s for a long time. They shared the same political ideology, but I think they grew apart when Warren became more devout in his beliefs. He moved away and spent several years in seminary school before coming back to serve on the Council, and in that time he changed a great deal. He got married, had several children…and your father, well, he was off somewhere with you. I don’t think they knew each other very well after the age of fifteen.”
Howard let the silence sink in. Lena thought for a moment, and then got at what was really bothering her. “If he was a Christian, then why did he want to kill me? If he doesn’t even believe in the portal? What did the Council say about that?”
Howard sighed and tried to think back to that day. He had paid close attention, but the evidence had been so condemning and the trial so short that there wasn’t much to think back to. “Well…it wasn’t his religion. It was the fact that he’s…he was caught in the act of strangling you, Lena. That was good enough for a lot of people. Why does anyone want to kill someone else? I can’t answer your question…”
Lena nodded, and Howard nodded back. He walked out of the hall and continued on to his previous engagement. His answer hadn’t been anywhere near satisfactory for her, but he had made some excellent points. Murder was a horrendous crime, and frequently it didn’t make sense at all—many people were murdered over the matter of whatever little money they had in their wallet that they didn’t want to give up, and it happened on a much more regular basis than most people liked to think about.
But there was something that Warren Astley had said that night; something that she hadn’t thought about until Master Astley had brought it back to her earlier.
"You understand, don’t you? Why I have to do this?" He had said those words to her. And as she thought about it, she realized she didn’t have the slightest idea why. Why he had to do it; he had said it like he expected her to know. She had assumed, like everyone else, that it had been about the portal…but now she wasn’t entirely sure. Perhaps Howard was right; maybe it was senseless. Maybe Lena was paranoid, but a chill ran down her spine thinking that Warren Astley really did have a reason, and he was still out there.
Lena continued to stare at the pile of papers for a few minutes longer; the reality of the situation was starting to sink in. She had come a long way from hotels and carry-on, and she still had a long way to go. She eventually found her way back to her bedroom, where Mrs. Ralston had already laid out her victory attire for her. She changed, did her makeup, and put on the only jewelry she owned: Griffin’s bracelet, and Ava’s necklace. Stepping back from the mirror to look herself over, she had the sudden realization that she wasn’t a child anymore. Somewhere in the past few months, she had grown into her life, and things were finally starting to fit.
End of Waldgrave Part 1.
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Deception of the Magician
Waldgrave Part 2
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