Deception of the Magician (Waldgrave Book 2) (21 page)

Thank God she finally had the paper cut to distract her.

Warren sighed and looked down at the table. His eyes were droopy. “I’m very sorry about what happened. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that I haven’t—“

“I’m here to find out what business you have with Griffin.” Lena tried to hold her gaze steady as Warren raised his eyes to meet hers. His eyes remained as defeated as ever, but the small hint of a smile flashed across his face.

Warren raised both of his hands. “This is my business.”

Lena cocked an eyebrow. “Your business is the fact that he stopped you?”

“My business, as I said very clearly last night, was with Master Darius Corbett. I presume his son, though legally a Daray now, has inherited the most of his worldly affairs.” He kept his voice very gentle as he said all of this. Lena was beginning to feel very strange about the whole situation; he was being entirely too nice to her for someone who had previously tried to kill her. “I’m very sorry, and at the same time very grateful, that you have no idea what’s going on here; you’re so much like Aaron in that respect. So sure you have everything under control, but there’s so many more things going on behind your back. My business is inseparably tied to the events of that night, as I was not delivered what I was promised.”

The reference to her father had caught her off guard. Very suddenly she was back in her dream, images of his still, pale face floating in the back of her mind. “And what was that…?”

Warren took a deep breath; he let it out slowly, so that it caused a few unruly strands of his untrimmed mustache to wave slightly in the breeze. He reached into a pocket and Lena tensed up—but he was only getting his wallet. He flipped it open, revealing two pictures. In one, there were two boys, probably in their early teens, and in the other, there was a picture of an infant. “My daughter. He claimed to have my daughter.”

Lena stared at the wallet for a moment. She looked back up at Warren, frowning. “What?”

Warren was still staring at the photographs of his children. “It was fourteen years ago. You see, my wife was human. We’d never had any difficulties with either of the boys—they’re both human, like she was.” He turned the wallet back towards himself, studying the faces. “But then there was Kelsey. She announced her existence as a Silenti very early, in the form of a very difficult pregnancy. That was when we contacted Lyle Evans…”

Lena was perplexed. She knew she shouldn’t trust Warren as much as she did, but she wanted to trust him. She knew Silenti made a regular practice of hiding their more valuable children for the exact reason that Warren was describing—Silenti typically weren’t shy about kidnapping and murder. “But why would it matter? Silenti babies are the same as any other baby. I thought that’s why it’s so hard to pick them out—we spend a lot of time sorting out who gets in and who doesn’t for all of the human-born Silenti we find every year.”

Warren’s eyes shifted up to Lena’s face very quickly; he was surprised. “No—they’re not! Well…” He glanced back down at his wallet photos. “Yes and no, I suppose. Surely you’ve read about it—you underwent the process yourself. All of the physical symptoms that go along with becoming a Silenti; the mood swings, the stomach aches, the headaches, the blood vessels rupturing as they break and reform? You surely had nosebleeds?”

Lena nodded. Of course she knew about the symptoms; she had lived them.

“It’s all about the brain. I knew Kelsey was a Silenti very early on because Silenti exist in close cognitive proximity. Her contact with me, and others in our community, allowed her to develop as typical Silenti infants do. But it created a problem, because with the differences in Silenti brain capacity come different controls over the body. We have very complex immune systems that protect us from many human ailments, for example—but it was the problem with the blood vessels that created the issue. Kelsey’s brain needed more blood than her human mother was able to supply. So, as I said, we were forced to call in a specialist.”

Lena’s head was reeling. It all made sense—she wondered why Hesper had never told her. She had been so sure that Maren was a girl, and she had never once said it was because she was already communicating with her unborn child. The symptoms that she had once thought were merely psychological were actual symptoms of her becoming a Silenti. As her brain had grown into its new-found abilities, it had triggered other physical responses as secondary symptoms; the nosebleeds from the overgrowth of new blood supply, the stomach aches caused by her brain trying to exercise more control over her body, the mood swings as her brain chemistry spiked from the sudden exposure to other Silenti…Everything, down to the fact that she hadn’t developed an infection in the horrifically deep cut on her leg, was suddenly crystal clear. Warren was smiling sadly at her.

“Becoming a Silenti in the womb is much easier on the individual, but harder on the human mother.” He shook his head. “No one ever told you about this?”

Lena tried not to act too embarrassed. It was like receiving the birds-and-bees talk from a stranger. “No. Go on.”

Warren’s smile faded as his eyes went back to the photo of the infant. He nodded slightly. “Well. Yes. Silenti babies need a much more specialized nutrition than human babies, not to mention the insufficient umbilical cord. Typical human pregnancies don’t support Silenti babies very well. The only doctor at the time who had any experience in Silenti-human births was Lyle Evans; to this day he remains the foremost in Silenti-human health complications. He assisted in the pregnancy, and eventually in the birth. I wasn’t present for the delivery—no one was—because he claimed he needed a completely sterile environment. I felt her trauma; and then I felt her slip away…I didn’t know what was happening.

“When he finally came out, and told me my wife had died during the delivery, taking the baby with her, I was devastated. The family was devastated. I knew my wife was gone, and the sadness ate away at me; I devoted my whole life to our boys, Daniel and Samuel.” His glistening eyes came up to meet Lena’s again. “And then, one night a few weeks later, Darius Corbett showed up on my doorstep with this photograph…He told me he was in league with Evans, and he had my daughter. He told me he would kill her, as Evans had my wife, if I told anyone or didn’t do exactly as he asked.”

Lena somehow had no problem seeing Darius Corbett doing just such a thing to a human-integrated family. The situation was very plausible, and the big picture was starting to fall into place. She gave Warren a side-long glance. “Did you kill Thomas? My brother?”

He looked taken aback for a moment. “No! Heavens—no.” Warren leaned his head forward, as if bowing it in prayer. The little light given off by the overhead florescent bulbs was obscured from his face by his long, greasy hair. His eyes became dark. “But it wouldn’t surprise me if Darius Corbett had something to do with it. No…he wanted something else from me. Since Avalon had returned with Thomas, everyone had forgotten about you and Aaron. But we were still writing—we sent a lot of letters back and forth, the both of us having lost our wives and a child so suddenly, and I was one of the only people to know where has was and what his itinerary consisted of. You see, he was staying with the Masons for brief stints, but he didn’t want you involved with Silenti for fear that you’d start to develop the Silenti capacities, and then he would never be able to pull you away.

“What Darius wanted—among other favors, such as political sway—was to know where you were. When Thomas was killed, and Master Daray started calling for custody of his last descendant, the realization of what I was doing to Aaron almost killed me. I turned the letters over to Master Corbett knowing full well that he was feeding the information to Master Daray to gain his favor. I delayed the letters as much as I could without raising his suspicions to give you a head start, but then there was the accident. I knew Aaron never wanted any of this for you. Then I saw you there, with the Corbett girl chatting you up that first night at the meeting, and I knew I had to do right by Aaron. I tried to intervene. I had to get you out of there; and I knew I had to make it look like I wasn’t involved or he would kill my child.

“I think he knew I was up to something. That’s when he asked me to do it—it was so unthinkable. I was in shock because I had never known up to that point that it was his intention all along. After all the years of friendship I had shared with your father, all of those secret letters, and all of the betrayal, he ordered me to kill you. He said if I succeeded, he would give me my daughter back and the nightmare would finally be over. If I refused, he would kill her. Then he showed me another picture—she looks so much like her! She looks exactly like my wife…I couldn’t let him. It was the hardest decision I’ve ever made. I still regret it to this day. But I knew I had to repent, to you, so I followed you knowing that you would stop in this town; low and behold, God brought us together.”

Warren went silent. Lena’s head was starting to pound again; it all made sense. Even Master Daray had had his suspicions about Corbett’s actions and intentions. He had known that Corbett had been involved in the attempt on Lena’s life, and had dismissed Corbett in the typical Silenti fashion. But there was still one question that had yet to be answered…    

“Why did he want to kill me?”

Warren actually smiled, revealing white teeth. “Isn’t it obvious? You were in the way. There were rumors running all around that Thomas was human, and with only a girl left, the only logical choice was for Master Daray to marry you off to one of his loyal followers. So Corbett engineered a way to find you for him, killed Thomas, and became Daray’s closest follower with the information I was giving him. That’s why Daray chose Griffin Corbett over the scores of others he could have chosen. His aim all along was to put the Corbett household in the seat of power, and he did it—Griffin stands to inherit everything. But he won’t lead while you’re still alive. You see, a lot of the Old Faith followers masquerade behind the cause of the portal for the perks. I think you’d be surprised to find out how many of them don’t really believe any of the nonsense in those books at all, or worse, do believe it but want the portal to stay hidden away so that they can keep their social status. Once the portal shows up, and it’s opened, it’s over. The portal will let through who it will—be it inclusive or exclusive of the human-borns—and they can’t take their money or power with them. Their lifestyle is too dependent on the idea that they’re better than the human-borns. If the human-borns aren’t let through, then they become Masters without slaves. If it does let them through, it shatters the myth that full Silenti are better than anyone else.

“The unconfirmed myth makes them royalty for being full Silenti, and that gives them power—but only so long as they keep the myth alive. They would have to follow you to do that, so Darius had to remove you from the picture so his own son, and he himself vicariously, could inherit the throne.”

Reflecting on the vote that had allowed her to come out on this mission, Lena realized why so many of the Old Faith were opposed. If she found it, she would smash the entire social system to smithereens—everything, the whole way of Silenti life, was dependent on the idea that there would never be proof. She was more determined than ever that she was somehow going to provide it. And then there was the matter of Kelsey Astley—Lena doubted that Griffin would know. Others might be fake believers, but she was absolutely sure that he wasn’t. He couldn’t have been involved in the plot because he was too fanatical about the religion; that, plus the fact that she owed her life to him twice over, convinced her of his innocence. He wasn’t going to know where Kelsey was.

Someone was walking through the hallway. Moments later, Dorotea walked through the door and smiled. “I thought I would find the two of you together. I hope you’ve helped each other, because you need to help each other. I believe it’s God’s will. Would you like to help me fix up breakfast today?”

How did she know?
 Lena thought.

Warren laughed quietly. 
That’s what happens to the ones we don’t take. People here meet her and think she’s different—touched, maybe. This is what happens to the Silenti we don’t take into the fold. She’s been a great comfort to a poor exile like myself.

Lena and Warren helped Dorotea put together breakfast for all of the homeless that sought refuge and solace at the church every day. They pulled out several large pots and pans, and Lena started to work making a large pot of oatmeal as Warren helped Dorotea set up the serving table and unload the dishwasher from dinner the night before. It wasn’t the largest pot of oatmeal Lena had ever seen, because she had seen the amounts of oatmeal the kitchen staff at Waldgrave made during the Council meetings, but it was still big. There had to be at least three gallons of oatmeal in the pot, bubbling and sputtering as she forced her large, wooden spoon around through the thickening mass. After the oatmeal, she helped Dorotea with the eggs as Warren set out industrial-sized boxes of cereal.

As the hungry masses started to pile through the doors, the priest from the day before came in and pulled Dorotea aside. They went out into the hall; several minutes later, Dorotea returned. She sidled up next to Lena as she scooped oatmeal into each bowl that was held out towards her in the food line.

“Your brother is here.” Dorotea said with a kind smile. “I offered him breakfast, but he says you need to leave immediately.”

Lena put down her ladle and took off the apron she was wearing. She walked up close to Warren, and they shared a brief moment of eye contact between plates as he shoveled eggs out with a spatula. Lena put a hand on his shoulder, leaned in close, and whispered.