A Knight of the Sacred Blade (22 page)

Bill fidgeted. “How’s…how’s Mary? Is she okay?”

“She’s getting better,” said Ally. The crowd began to sit down at the tables. “She has good days, and she has bad days. But less bad days than she used to.”

“That’s good,” said Bill. He took off his glasses and began wiping them down with a napkin. “It’s been an interesting few weeks for me. My mother keeps trying to teach me to do laundry.” He stuck his glasses back on with a sheepish grin. “I keep shrinking stuff.” 

“Well, Miss Wester,” said Mr. Ryan, tucking his iPhone into his suit jacket. “A pleasure to see you again. I hope tonight is not quite as…memorable as William Junior’s graduation party. 

“Me too.”

“Ally!” Simon started at her over a glass of water. “You going to join us, or are you going to spend the whole night talking to your boyfriend?”

Ally glared. “Dad!” Katrina elbowed him in the ribs. Ally turned to Bill. “I have to go. We can talk some more after this…well, after whatever is happening is over.”

Bill nodded. “Cool. It’s…um…I think it’s a dinner a then a speech. By some bigwig.” 

Ally got to her feet. “Probably whoever paid for all this.” Bill’s eyes jerked down her legs before they returned to her face, and his flush deepened. 

Bill laughed. “Yeah.”

Ally sat down besides Lithon, who had already consumed half the bread basket. She saw Bill sneak another glance at her before his father started talking.  For a moment she entertained going back to his table. He would ask her out, if she prodded him in the right direction. And then…

No. That wouldn’t happen. She was certain Bill would go to MIT and she would not.

One of her premonitions. 

“Sorry,” said Simon, snatching a pack of crackers before Lithon could eat them.

“What?” Ally blinked. “Oh. Right. Hope Mom didn’t give you too much of a bruise.”

Simon winced. “No comment.”

A microphone squealed. “Ladies and gentlemen!” A stage with a podium stood at the far end of the hall, a florid-faced man in a gray suit talking into a microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention please, we’re about ready to start.” 

“Look at that,” whispered Lithon around a mouthful of bread. A group of cameramen had set up near the podium, their equipment emblazoned with the logos of various local TV networks. “I might get to be on TV.” 

“Welcome to the first Chicago Public High Schools Honors dinner,” said the man with microphone. He mopped at his brow with a handkerchief. “I hope this can become can become a tradition, thanks to our donor. But first, let’s have a round of applause for our honors graduates.” The crowd applauded. “We’ve got quite a dinner planned. But first, we’ll have a brief speech by our donor.” Lithon groaned. “Ladies and gentlemen, it is my distinct honor to introduce a respected member of our community, a successful businessman, and the Gracchan Party nominee for the office of vice president.” Simon lurched and almost fell off his chair. Katrina stared at the podium, her eyes like flint. “Senator Thomas Wycliffe!”

The applause redoubled, and many people stood. A short, stout man with slicked-back dark hair and thick glasses strode out onto the stage. Ally recognized Senator Thomas Wycliffe from TV. He seemed much less impressive in person than he did on TV. He looked like a computer software engineer, or perhaps a math teacher.

“Goddamn it,” said Katrina. “Simon. We have to leave. Now.” The hall fell silent as Wycliffe mounted the podium. 

“I know.” Simon’s face had gone pasty. “But he’ll see us, Katrina. Everyone’s sitting. We’ll be the only people leaving.” People began to glance at them.

“What’s going on?” said Ally. “Why do we have…”

“Quiet,” said Katrina, her voice sharper than Ally could ever remember hearing. 

“Thank you for that most generous welcome,” said Wycliffe, smiling. His calm, pleasant voice was a marked contrast to his appearance. Ally had never heard anything quite like it “As glad as I am to be here tonight, it is with the greatest reluctance. You philosophy students out there can wrap your minds around that paradox.” Ally chuckled, as did several hundred other people. “But it’s really quite simple. I did indeed donate the money for tonight’s festivities. But I had wanted it kept quiet. Scholarship and education are so important, especially in these troubled times. And as some of you may have heard, I’m running for a rather minor political office.” More chuckles. “But I digress. Political campaigns can become…oh, how to put this…a little raucous, and I didn’t want this dragged in. And now you unfortunate people find yourself suffering through one my speeches.” Laughter rang out.

“That bastard’s gotten to be a good speaker, I’ll give him that,” said Katrina. “Simon. We have to leave.”

“When he’s finished,” said Simon. “Everyone will get up for the buffet lines. We can slip out then.”

“Would you please tell me why…” said Ally.

Katrina glared. “Just trust us, please, Ally. We shouldn’t be here.” 

“I hope to award several scholarships tonight,” said Wycliffe. Something about his words, his voice, captured her attention. “Some of you may remember the tragedy of a few months past. Miss Anne Louis, a dedicated journalist, disappeared after conducting an interview with me, part of an article that went to win a posthumous Pulitzer Prize. The police have given up any hope of finding her, sadly. But her memory will live on. Tonight I announce the endowment of the Anne Louis Scholarship for future journalism majors…”

“Bastard,” said Katrina. “I’ll bet he killed her.”

Ally looked away from the Senator and frowned. “I don’t…” 

Pain stabbed through her mind. She shivered and almost fell off her seat. Suddenly Wycliffe’s words felt like echoing thunderclaps, booming through her mind. Sharp pain stabbed between her temples with every word he spoke, pulsing with the rhythm of his speech. 

“Ally?” said Katrina, leaning forward.

Ally gripped the edge of the table to keep from falling. The pain hammered through her mind in pulses. She gritted her teeth and concentrated, trying to shut out the pain. Coldness gripped her, and icy sweat beaded on her neck and slithered down her back. 

“Ally!” Katrina’s voice rose in alarm. 

The coldness lashed at her in waves, matching the pain from Wycliffe’s speech. Suddenly a hot white fire seemed to rise from the depths of her mind, the way it had when she had fought Nathan. The fire lashed through her mind, banished the pain, and turned the coldness into warmth. Ally opened her eyes and gasped.

“Ally!” hissed Katrina, grabbing her arm. “Are you okay?”

“I…I think so.” She felt drenched in sweat.

“What happened?” 

Ally shook her head. “I don’t know.” She looked at Wycliffe and frowned. His voice was nasal and grating. All the charm, all the charisma, had vanished from his speech. How could she have ever found his words pleasant? 

Simon had gone even paler. “Katrina. Remember what Conmager said? Marugon had taught him. Maybe…maybe he’s using it right now.”

“Jesus,” said Katrina. “Jesus Christ. Maybe he is. We have to get out of here now. Right now.” She sounded almost hysterical. “I’ll even pretend to be sick…”

“So, to conclude, I can smell the food,” said Wycliffe, grinning, “Let us eat!” The crowd burst into applause. Dr. Burton stood, clapping, as did Paulsen. Even the Ryans stood, Bill’s face rapt with awe. Fright grew in Ally’s heart. She had never seen that expression on Bill’s face before. Soon Ally and her family were the only people still sitting. 

“Simon, go,” said Katrina. They rose and made their way to the door. But everyone else was heading for the buffet lines, and they could make no progress through the tight-packed crowds. Simon looked back and forth, sweat beading on his brow. Katrina’s lips pressed into a thin angry line. With a start, Ally realized her parents were terrified. 

Why were they so afraid of Wycliffe?

“Damn it, Simon, we’re not going to get out of here like this,” hissed Katrina. “I'll pull the fire alarm or something…”

“Someone would get trampled to death,” said Simon.

“Senator!” Senator Wycliffe stood not ten feet away, shaking hands. Paulsen pushed through the crowd. “Senator Wycliffe, sir, it’s an honor to meet you, sir.”

Katrina froze. “Oh, damn.”

Wycliffe shook Paulsen’s hand. “Pleased to meet you…”

“I saw your speech, sir, the one you gave back in January,” said Paulsen, gazing at the Senator with a rapt expression. “I went out and joined the Gracchan Party right away…” 

Wycliffe listened to him with a fixed smile. His eyes brushed over Ally and then Simon, and he started to turn away. 

Then his eyes widened and he turned back around. 

“Simon,” said Katrina. “He’s…”

“Well, well. Simon Wester,” said Wycliffe, walking towards them. Paulsen sputtered on for a few more sentences and then fell silent. Wycliffe grinned ear to ear. “After all these years. How have you been?”

Simon smiled and shook Wycliffe’s hand. “Fairly good. I’m glad I got out of politics when I did. It looks like you’ve been busy.”

Wycliffe laughed. “That I have, Dr. Wester, that I have. Are you sure you don’t want to come back and work for me? I still could use a good speechwriter.”

Simon licked his lips. “It doesn’t look like it. Your speeches all seem to go over very well.” 

Wycliffe smiled. “They really do, don’t they? But I’ve had to write most of them myself. Though I certainly could use a speechwriter to share the load.”

Simon shook his head. “Sorry. I have too many duties at the University of Constantina. I can’t just drop everything and go out on campaign.”

“I understand,” said Wycliffe. “Responsibility does creep up on a man as he grows older.” He craned his neck. “Ah! Mrs. Wester. There you are. How have you been?”

Katrina nodded, her face a mask. “Senator. All right.”

Wycliffe spread his hands. “Things have not been the same without you. Truly competent database administrators are hard to find.” He looked over Ally and Lithon and frowned. “Dr. Wester. You have children? You and the former Ms. Coldridge were so determined to remain career people.”

Simon laughed. “No man can see is own fate. I…um…bet you didn’t think you would be running for vice president someday when you started out in politics.”

Wycliffe grinned. “Actually, I had a very precise career plan. But that hardly matters. Do introduce me.”

Simon stammered for a minute. “Ah…this is my daughter, Ally.”

Wycliffe smiled. “A lovely young lady, indeed.” Ally tried to smile back but didn’t quite manage it. Something about his voice grated on her ears. “And the boy?”

“This is…” Katrina glared at him. “This is…Luke.” Lithon gave him a weird look. “Luke Wester.” 

An odd look came over Wycliffe’s face, as if he had forgotten something he knew to be important. More sweat rolled down Simon’s forehead. “A son. How old is he, might I ask?”

Simon nodded. “He’s fifteen.”

Wycliffe frowned. “Fifteen?” The odd look didn’t leave his face. “But you’ve been married…”

“Ten years,” said Katrina. She gave him a tight smile. “My cousin’s son. We adopted him after she died. It worked out for the best.”

Tiny lines appeared in Wycliffe’s brow. “I see. And so Miss Wester was…”

“Also adopted,” said Katrina, “about a year after Luke. It was a hard time for her.” Her eyes narrowed. “We don’t like to talk about it, especially in public.”

Wycliffe spread his hands. “My apologies.” The puzzled expression faded from his face. “Pardon the curiosity of an old friend.” He frowned. “But there’s something I can’t quite remember…ah, it doesn’t matter. Perhaps it will come to me in time.” Someone called out his name. “Oh. You’ll excuse me, I hope. I promised to give a few quick interviews. A pleasure seeing you again, Dr. Wester, and your family.” He smiled. “I’ll keep you in mind for a few jobs, in case you ever leave the University of Constantina.”

“Thank you,” said Simon. Wycliffe smiled and turned to greet a small throng of shouting reporters.

“Go,” said Katrina. Simon pushed and elbowed his way through the crowd, Katrina at his side, Ally and Lithon following. After much shoving, angry glares, and muttered apologies, they managed to reach the parking lot. The muggy night air fell over Ally like a thick blanket.

“Goddamn it, Simon,” said Katrina. “He saw us. Worse, he saw Lithon.”

“My name’s not Luke!” said Lithon, frowning. “Why did you say my name was Luke?”

“What was this all about?” said Ally. “You used to work for him. Why wouldn’t you…”

“Kids!” said Katrina, her voice rising to a shout. A man in a dark suit stood against the wall some distance away, gazing at the night sky. He turned at Katrina’s yell, and she offered him an irritated smile. “I’m sorry, okay? We can’t talk about it right now. Let’s just say…Wycliffe’s a bad man. Really rotten. Your Dad and I used to work for him, and we found out about some of this stuff.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about this?” said Ally. “Why didn’t you tell the police?” 

The man in the suit stared at her.

“Yeah,” said Lithon. “If he’s a crook, he should go to jail.” 

Katrina grimaced and leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Because Wycliffe doesn’t know we know. And if he knew, he’d kill us. And you, too.”

“Oh my God,” said Ally.

“That’s why we never told anyone,” said Katrina. “Wycliffe would know. And he’d kill us before the police could do anything. That’s why we can’t tell you everything. At least not yet. And you have to promise, you have to swear, to never tell anyone about this. Ever.”

“She’s right,” said Simon.

“I’m as serious as I’ve ever been in my life,” said Katrina. 

“I promise,” whispered Lithon. He pantomimed locking his mouth shut and throwing away the key.

“I promise,” said Ally. The man in the suit began walking towards them at a slow pace, still staring at her. He was tall, with silver-streaked dark hair and deep, dark black eyes. 

Something about his steady gaze unsettled her. 

“Jeez,” said Lithon. “It’s getting cold.”

“Yeah,” said Ally, rubbing her arms. She wished she had worn something heavier. 

“Let’s go home,” said Katrina.