Rise of the Arcane Fire (The Secret Order) (26 page)

“Already done. What do you think they’re going to do? Do you think they’ll close the Academy?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

We turned the corner and passed through the doors into the assembly hall. The benches were beginning to fill, and while there weren’t as many people as the first time the Order had gathered, I was still astounded at how many were there with less than a day’s notice.

Peter and I walked down the steps and took a seat with the other apprentices at the far end.

A loud rapping came from the podium, and we turned our attention to Leader Octavian. The room quickly fell silent.

He adjusted his spectacles on his thin nose. “As you all know by now, a very serious incident happened during the training of our apprentices yesterday. I would like to take a moment to thank Headmaster Lawrence and Barnabus for ensuring that no one was injured, though the damage was extensive,” Octavian began as his voice wheezed through the machine that amplified it throughout the room. I gave Peter a sidelong glance. The headmaster and Instructor Barnabus had practically been the first ones out of the room.

“It is my understanding that the automaton had been tampered with. His original control system is missing, and the control system for the clockwork Minotaur was put in its place.”

The murmurs began again. Leader Octavian held up his hand. “Headmaster Lawrence, if you would, please.”

The headmaster stood behind the podium looking imperial and grave. “There have been no less than three acts of sabotage at the Academy thus far. The first two were directed at Miss Whitlock.”

The voices of the Amusementists grew louder. The headmaster rapped on the podium with the gavel, but one of the men near the front stood. “Which is precisely why she should not be allowed to continue at the Academy!”

I felt as if a mule had just kicked me soundly in the chest. A chorus of “Hear, hear!” followed his words as they winged around the chamber. This was what the saboteur wanted.

“Except that she’s the most brilliant mind to come through the Academy in the last hundred years,” Headmaster Lawrence snapped back. Whatever ghostly mule had kicked me managed to land a second blow. The other apprentices shifted nervously around me, trying to glance across the row at me, or over their shoulders. Even David turned to look. Samuel cuffed him on the arm, and he turned back. I straightened my spine and drew in my breath through my nose. I would not crack. Not now. Peter took my hand and gave it a squeeze.

The headmaster continued. “Her attention to detail is impeccable, she has an innate understanding of how things work, and her creativity is unmatched. To remove her from the Academy would be a sin against everything this Order claims to honor.”

“But she is a danger.” A thin man with large spectacles rose from the crowd. “Two people have already been injured, and yesterday one of our sons could have been killed.”

The angry shouts grew louder at that, burying my hope. I had intended to address the Gathering and tell them about the attack to my person yesterday, but if I did, it would only be greater cause to remove me from the Academy. I didn’t wish to prove my detractors correct. However, they were right, someone could have been killed. I didn’t know what to do.

“Miss Whitlock is not the problem here,” Headmaster Lawrence protested. “If needs be, I will assign her an escort at every waking moment. The fact remains, this latest attack was against the Academy as a whole. My fear is that if we remove Miss Whitlock, this person will slip quietly into obscurity before we can discover his identity. And we don’t know for certain if Miss Whitlock is even the cause for these attacks, so much as a convenient scapegoat.”

“I find that difficult to believe, considering she brought a bomb into our midst,” a man in the back shouted.

“A bomb someone from this Order created.” Headmaster Lawrence came out from behind the podium and walked casually to the center of the room, turning in a slow circle to take everyone in. “Look around. We have a madman in our midst once again. He is in this room at this very moment. He could be sitting next to you, and yet we intend to blame Miss Whitlock.”

The eyes in the room suddenly turned shifty as the Amusementists risked furtive glances at their neighbors. Several fixed on the man who had initially suggested my removal. He shrank down like a chastised dog. The headmaster wasn’t through castigating them. “The attacks are escalating. We must find this person and drive him from our midst before it is too late. We turned a blind eye to madness before, and it led to murder. Can we afford to do so again?”

The murmurs seemed humble now. I was glad for it. As soon as I was able, I’d tell the headmaster about the man who’d attacked me. He’d know what to do.

Oliver stood, the patch over his eye marring his face. “I agree with the headmaster. Whoever decides to attack one of us attacks all of us. The last time something like this happened, we all turned and ran to protect ourselves. By doing so we allowed more to be murdered. We cannot afford to make the same mistake twice. This saboteur must be found and brought to justice.” There was a smattering of applause. Oliver gave a half shrug. “At the very least we should force him to pay for the wine.”

The applause grew as the Amusementists laughed. Finally someone spoke over the crowd. “What do you propose?”

Headmaster Lawrence returned to the podium. “I’m so glad you asked.” He pulled a lever and immediately the hall dimmed and a roll of heavy linen unfurled against the stone wall behind him. A contraption rose from the floor, flashed with sudden light, and projected an image upon the linen.

I gasped, then brought my hand to my mouth.

“Meg, what is it?” Peter whispered.

I recognized at once the machine being depicted. The sketch was rudimentary, but there was no mistaking the design. I had seen it in real life in the secret room in the cellars.

“I propose a simple test!” Headmaster Lawrence announced, beaming with pride. “I have been struck by a bolt of inspiration. All we need is a machine capable of seeing the thoughts of a man. With it we will be able to discern truth from lie and purge our house of the sickness that dwells within it.”

I leaned forward, confused, as I listened to the uneasy whispers of those around me. Why was the headmaster lying? He claimed this idea had only just come to him, but I knew the truth. A working model of it was right beneath our feet. And if the headmaster had been thinking of birds and fire when I had spied upon him, the machine was fully functional.

Perhaps it wasn’t
fully
functional. The headmaster’s thoughts hadn’t made any sense.

Suddenly a horrible realization came to me. If no one else knew about the mind machine, then the headmaster had been working on it in secret. That had been expressly forbidden at the last Gathering. He was working on a rogue project.

The eleven men in black waistcoats sitting in the very first row of benches huddled together to speak. I strained to see them more clearly, as if that would help me hear their words.

Finally a withered little man stood.

“As members of the approval committee, we feel it is too soon to jump to such drastic measures. A man’s thoughts are his own, and that sanctity of the privacy of one’s own thoughts should not be violated for the ease of discovering the perpetrator of this crime.” He coughed and leaned on his cane. “Instead we shall continue to investigate the origin of the bomb and launch an investigation of the incident with the automaton. It is best to rely on tried methods for revealing the identity of the perpetrator of this heinous act.”

Headmaster Lawrence clenched his fists. “What happens when there is another attack? What happens when it is something we cannot ignore?”

The old man looked to his fellows along the bench. “We will take things as they come. In the meantime I call upon all of us to remain wary.”

“Indeed,” Headmaster Lawrence said, his expression thoughtful. “Indeed.”

ON MY FIRST DAY BACK
at the Academy, I stood before Headmaster Lawrence, watching him pen a letter. I had been there for fifteen minutes at least, and he hadn’t acknowledged me.

Things seemed to have returned to normal now that the disaster in the cellars had been set right, but I knew better. The spilled wine may have been gone, but the threat was not. I cleared my throat.

The headmaster ignored it.

The man had some nerve. I was likely the only one in the entire Order who knew he was working on a rogue project. I almost wanted to confess what I knew, just to get a rise out of him.

A clock ticked from somewhere behind him, a constant reminder of the wasting time.

“I wish to speak with you, Headmaster,” I finally said.

He lingered over a final word on his letter, then looked up at me through a pair of thin spectacles. “Miss Whitlock, ah, yes.” He removed the spectacles and placed them on the table, but did not bother to stand. “What can I do for you?”

“You told me to come to you if I witnessed anything suspicious.” I took a step forward and placed my fingertips on the edge of his desk.

“And did you?” He leaned back in his chair as far as it would allow.

“I was attacked by a man in the corridor outside my workshop only minutes after the incident with the automaton. I believe it was the man in the clockwork mask, the same man who planted the bomb in my toy shop earlier this year and was responsible for the death of my parents. He is the saboteur. I’m certain of it.”

The headmaster stood even as his expression softened into a doughy look, the one people seem to give whenever they don’t believe a word you say but don’t wish to call you addled. I stood straight, holding my head high and my gaze steady even though I still felt myself shaking inside whenever I thought about the attack.

“My dear girl.” He smiled, his neatly clipped beard emphasizing his placating grin. “What happened the other day was quite traumatic, and everyone was in a rush. As a sheltered young lady you’re clearly not used to such commotion. You must have been bumped or jostled, and in the aftermath of the accident misunderstood the situation.”

Dear Lord, the man was being obtuse. Not to mention patronizing, blind, and reckless. “I didn’t misunderstand anything. I was grabbed from behind.” There was hardly any room to misinterpret my attacker’s intentions.

“Did you see his face?” he asked.

“No. He was behind me.”

“There. You see?” The headmaster leaned over his desk toward me. “As I said, you were
distraught
when you left here, and perhaps you took too heavy a blow to the head.” His voice took on a subtle but threatening edge, as if ordering me to accept his words as truth. That edge didn’t leave his tone as he continued. “This monastery is well protected. It is nearly impossible to infiltrate these walls. Only trusted servants who have been in the service of Amusementist families for generations know the password to enter the carriage bay. The dock for the ship, as well as the tunnels, are all secure. We made sure of it when the sewage system was constructed not that long ago. There is simply no possible way for a man with something as conspicuous as a clockwork mask to enter this building.”

Secure? There weren’t even locks on the doors. I didn’t know how the man in the clockwork mask had entered the Academy, but I knew for certain that he had. I had been attacked. That inconvenient reality was not about to disappear because the headmaster didn’t
want
to believe it. “What if he knew the password?”

“Impossible. He’d have to be an Amusementist. While we may have a flair for the dramatic, we keep careful lists of all those trusted with the password, and none of us jaunts about in a clockwork mask.” He brushed his sleeves, then tugged on his lapels. “To further prove my point, someone outside the Order would never have been able to modify the automaton to such disastrous effect. The saboteur is a member of the Order, of that I have no doubt.”

“What if he was an Amusementist but is not one anymore?” I asked as Headmaster Lawrence circled around the desk to stand directly in front of me.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” His pale eyes narrowed.

“What if he bears the Black Mark?” I asked. “Surely you’ve noticed the insignia etched on the corner of the bomb.”

Headmaster Lawrence’s gaze darted to the side in a suspicious manner before settling back on me.

“All those who bear the mark are dead.” The headmaster reached out and opened the door. “And if there were an intruder, I would have seen him by now.” He waved over at the spying glass like the one I had seen in Rathford’s old study. “When we discover the saboteur, I assure you he will not be a ghost but a man of flesh and blood.”

“But, Headmaster—” He placed a hand on my back to lead me out the door.

“I’ve heard enough. The Academy cannot invite any more scrutiny from the Order. You are not to speak of any of this. I won’t have the Academy ruined over the silly fears of a young girl. Good day, Miss Whitlock.”

And with that I found myself alone in the corridor with the door shut behind me. At least he had admitted the true reason for dismissing what I had to say. He didn’t wish to lose respect within the Order. I turned and slammed the heels of my palms against the immovable stone beside the door.

I didn’t know what to do next, or whom I should confide in. Oliver was away for a time on business, and no one else would understand the threat the man in the clockwork mask posed to me and the Academy as a whole.

Now, with the headmaster’s revelations, I was even more convinced that Haddock had somehow survived. This time he’d caused an uproar by making an automaton attack. What if, the next time, he reverted to his first trick and simply planted a bomb?

One thing was certain—he had walked these halls.

I was no longer safe here.