The Nightmare Charade (23 page)

But the final characteristics gave me pause and set my teeth on edge. Corvus had a scar over his breastbone that had been “made by a brand” according to the note.
A brand?
At first, I couldn't make sense of it, but then I clicked on a link to a photo and realized they were talking about a brand like the kind used to mark livestock. The picture showed a man's bare chest. On it was a puckered, red scar shaped like the Borromean rings.

Once again those strange words he'd made me translate came to me—
Only the blood of the twelve can undo the circle
. Was it related to the Borromean rings? They'd been pictured on the same page.

I scanned the rest of the file, looking for some clarifying remark, something to explain why a man would willingly brand himself with a hot iron.
Unless it was unwilling
. I shuddered.

But the file contained nothing else of note. And I realized that despite Corvus's lack of a verifiable alibi, Valentine hadn't gone through his house the way he had my mother's.

Which meant Paul was right—we needed to go through it.

“What's wrong, Dusty?” Selene called from the other computer.

I turned toward her, running my fingers through the loose hair of my ponytail, yanking at the snags just to keep my hands occupied while my mind churned. “Paul thinks Corvus is responsible, and I'm starting to agree with him.” I motioned toward my computer screen, and then filled her in on Corvus's nonexistent alibi, the house off campus, and finally Paul's offer of the shape-change necklace.

Silence descended as I finished speaking. Selene didn't react outwardly at all while she processed everything I'd just told her. I resisted the urge to break that silence as long as I could—about ten seconds.

“What do you think? Should I do it? Eli will freak out if I say yes. I guess I could always just not tell him but—” I bit my lip before I started babbling in earnest.

Selene cleared her throat. “I think you should do what you decide to do regardless of what anyone else thinks. And yes, you should tell Eli, but don't let him stop you. You are your own boss. No one else.”

I inhaled, feeling a thrill of exhilaration at the idea. It seemed so opposite of my reality. Every moment someone else was making decisions for me—when to eat, where to be, what to do, what not to do. I let my breath out slowly. “What about Paul? Do you think it's safe to trust him?”

There was another long moment of silence, and this time I managed not to break it. Finally Selene said, “I trust you to be able to take care of yourself, no matter what Paul might be up to. Especially with that sword you're carrying. I wasn't kidding that you would make a great gladiator.”

I laughed, the sound coming out a snort thanks to my nerves. “Not a chance.”

Selene shrugged. “Suit yourself. But they have small team matches you know, two on two. We'd make a great team. The boys wouldn't stand a chance.”

Laughing again, I turned back to the screen. My humor quickly faded, giving way to determination. I would take Paul up on the offer. We had to get into that house and look around. I clicked on the Titus folder again, scrolling down until I came across a picture of the knife. I clicked on it, feeling exhilarated once again. We needed to search the house, and I knew exactly what we were looking for.

 

16

Here Be Dragons

I held off telling Eli about my decision until lunch the next day. He did not take it well.

“Please tell me you're joking, Dusty,” he said, a fork gripped tight in his hand. I had a feeling he was thinking about stabbing someone with it. Thank goodness Paul wasn't around.

I took a deep breath, trying not to overreact. I knew he would see reason, once he got past his worry for me. “I'm not. It's a good plan. And we don't have a lot of options with the Will Guard breathing down our necks. Sneaking off campus would be impossible without a shape-change necklace.”

“We could get a weekend pass.”

I offered him a patient smile. “We don't have time. They don't start approving those until next month.”

“What about the tunnels? Isn't that how your mom got on campus?” Eli pressed.

“Well, yeah, but we don't know the way, we don't have a boat, and even if we managed to get out onto the lake, how do we get to Corvus's house without a car? It could be miles and miles, and it's not like there're cabs on every corner. This is Chickery not New York.”

Eli's jaw worked back and forth, muscles quivering in his temple, cheek, and neck. “Fine. Then he can give me the shape-change necklace, and I'll go with Paul to investigate Corvus.”

I shook my head. “Paul already said no to that.”

“He what?” Eli's expression darkened even more.

I shifted in my seat, completely understanding his reaction but being powerless to change anything. “He doesn't think it would be a good idea for it to be you and him. You don't play nice together.”

Eli snorted, the sound dangerous, akin to a wild animal growling. “Just because I don't like him doesn't mean I would do something stupid and get us caught.”

“I know that, but I can't make Paul do something he doesn't want to.”

Eli grunted. “He's just looking for an excuse to be alone with you.”

I sighed. “Maybe, but he's the one taking the biggest risk in all of this. If I get caught it'll be a slap on the wrist. If he does…”

“I get it.” A grim expression crossed his face. Eli glanced to his right, where Lance was listening in on our argument with palpable interest. Next to me, I suspected the same from Selene, although she was doing a better job at hiding it.

Eli ran a hand over his head. “Can we talk about this outside?” He smiled at the others. “No offense, guys.”

Lance slapped him on the back. “None taken. Wish I could keep every argument private, too. Makes for better making up options afterward.”

Selene shot him a dirty look, but Eli was already standing up, motioning for me to follow.

We dumped our trays and then headed out into the hallway. It was mostly empty, except for a Will Guard standing at the juncture of the nearest hallway. Eli took me by the arm and guided me in the opposite direction, just far enough to let us talk without being overheard, but not so far that the Will Guard felt inclined to move in and push us apart.

Eli faced me. We were standing close enough I had to lean my head back to look up at him.

“Look, Dusty, I know you're inclined to think the best of Paul, and I know you think I'm inclined to always think the worst, but you've got to believe me when I say you need to be careful about him.”

I closed my eyes, just long enough to compose myself. I didn't want to sound defensive. “Why do you think so? This time, I mean.”

Eli bit his lip, released it again. “It's just, how can we be sure that Paul wasn't involved in what happened to Titus?”

A laugh burst from my chest. “That's absurd.”

“Is it?” Eli leaned back, increasing the distance between our gazes. Then he leaned forward and took hold of my shoulders. “Think about it, Dusty. Paul was there, on the basement ward, same time as Titus—by his own admission. And we both know that he had reason to kill his uncle. More than anybody else, after all those years of abuse.”

I flinched. The motivation was certainly true, scarily so. I closed my eyes and shook the feeling off. Motive or not that didn't make him the killer. I met Eli's gaze. “Paul was locked up. You saw those cells. How could he have gotten out to do it? We know he's not a Nightmare.”

“No, he's a siren,” Eli shot back at once, as if he'd had this volley prepared ahead of time. “What if one of the guards took interest? What if one of them was a woman? One willing to leave his cell unlocked for him.”

Right away I remembered some of the names in Valentine's files. There had definitely been female names on the list. And similar to a Nightmare's power, the siren's ability to mesmerize couldn't be completely blocked by anti-magic spells.

I jerked my gaze away from Eli, staring at some random spot on the floor. I didn't want to believe it. I wasn't sure I could believe it, but I knew I couldn't discount it either. Not this time.

I turned back to Eli. “Look, I promise I'll be careful. I won't take anything he says at face value. I'm not going to get tricked this time. But—” I raised my hand to his lips, silencing a protest. “I've got to do whatever I can to help my mom. And if Paul is responsible for Titus's death, then spending this time with him will give me a chance to investigate him, too.”

My stomach twisted at the idea. Not because I was opposed to spying on him, but because if it turned out to be true, then that meant Paul's offer to help had been about misdirection from the beginning. Just an attempt to keep the guilt from shining on him.

To the detriment of my mother.

I clenched my teeth and breathed in deep. Exhaling, I said, “I know you're worried, but he won't get the upper hand with me ever again.” I raised my left arm, showing him Bellanax.

Eli exhaled, and I sensed the fight ease in him. “I am worried, Dusty. About a lot of things.” He hesitated and glanced at the Will Guard. The man had moved closer, but was still out of hearing range. Eli turned back to me. “But you're right. This is about your mother and we've got to do what's best for her.”

I leaned up on my tippy toes and kissed him. “Thank you.”

His answering kiss was just a little bit cold, like the shift toward night at the end of an early summer day.

It left me chilled for hours afterward. So did his warnings about Paul. When I texted Paul last night, agreeing to his plan, he told me to volunteer to help out at the Menagerie after class. I wasn't wild about the idea. Ms. Miller had mentioned volunteer opportunities once or twice in class, but so far those opportunities seemed to consist of shoveling troll manure or removing the cobwebs in the jackalope cages. Fun times.

Fortunately, when I reported for volunteer duty, Ms. Miller sent me to one of the classrooms to clean the dry-erase boards.

“That's all?” I said, arching one eyebrow.

Ms. Miller didn't look up from the sprite she held clutched in one hand. In the other she was preparing to clip its wings with a pair of surgical shears. The sprite was humanoid but with a feline face, sharp pointed teeth like thumbtacks, currently bared in protest at Ms. Miller. Its tiny body was shifting colors, yellow to green to pink to purple. I swallowed a surge of pity for the little creature. I wanted to ask why Ms. Miller was clipping its wings, but I didn't have time for the twenty-minute lecture that would probably accompany the answer.

Finally, Ms. Miller glanced up. “Yes. You have to prove your reliability with simple tasks before you are allowed the responsibility of handling any living creatures, plant or animal, in the Menagerie.”

Holding back a reply, I headed to the classroom she'd indicated. I sent Paul a text on the way with just the room number. I didn't have the encoder with me and hoped he would understand by the number alone.

It seemed he did—or maybe he'd known my assignment ahead of time—because he was waiting in the classroom when I arrived. He was wearing his creepy bearded-man disguise, but I was starting to get used to it. When he smiled at me, I could see Paul behind those stranger's eyes.

“Hey, thanks for coming.”

“No, thank you,” I said, my answering smile already fragile. So much risk he was taking to help me. Why? I pushed the question to the back of my mind—for now. I needed to learn this shape-change stuff.

“Come on,” he said. “We need to go somewhere private for this.”

“Okay.” I managed to sound normal, but my insides were shaking. Going anywhere private with Paul would've made me nervous even before Eli had pointed out the darker possibilities of his sudden reappearance in my life.

We headed out of the classroom, made a left and then another left, toward the rear of the building. When we arrived at the back door, Paul pushed it open and motioned me through. I stepped out onto a narrow walkway running between the administration building and the outer wall of the Menagerie.

Paul joined me a moment later, pulling the door shut behind him. “We shouldn't be seen back here. Hardly anybody comes this way.” He started walking, heading deeper into the Menagerie. I followed silently behind him. Although he hadn't told me to stay quiet, there was a clandestine feel to our journey up and down the narrow alleys. Whenever he heard someone nearby, he would stop and wait, making sure the coast was clear before moving on.

Finally, we arrived at a long rectangular building with a low, flat ceiling. The place looked abandoned. It leaned to one side as if it had aspirations toward falling over. A large sign posted over the door read:

WARNING

KEEP OUT

RISK OF DEATH AND DISMEMBERMENT

“What is this place?” I asked as Paul stepped up to the door and slid a key, one of at least a dozen he had on a large chain, into the lock.

He smiled. “Just ignore the signs.”

I bit my lip. Ignoring the signs never turned out well in my experience. “But what is it?”

Paul pushed the door open and stepped inside. I hesitated on the threshold, breathing in the strange smell of the place, a mix of ash and rotten egg. Vaguely, the words of the oath Ms. Miller had made us take our first day in the Menagerie passed through my mind, something about not opening any locked areas.

“Come on,” Paul said. “Before we get caught. This place is off limits.”

“No kidding,” I muttered as I followed him in. He shut the door behind me and turned the lock. Inside, the building was one giant room, completely bare of everything except the dirt and leaf litter on the concrete floor. To the left, the floor sloped downward, leading into the tunnels.