Chapter 26 #3
“You saved us. They might not realise it,” Girard said, tilting his head back to indicate the arguing Conclave members, “but if you hadn’t held the metal back, we’d all be dead right now.”
Hallie shivered, abruptly cold at the idea. She took another drink from him, grimacing at the cloying sweetness, but she knew she needed the energy. She became aware of another two Conclave members sitting on the step below her, heads in their hands as if they were exhausted and in pain.
“Lady Cotovatre said that they helped hold the shield,” Girard explained, following the direction of her gaze.
“She said that they are the most powerful magic users on the Conclave, apart from her.” He turned back to Hallie and covered her hand with his.
“And she also said that you and Emmet are easily twice as powerful as she is. It took all of you to hold the metal back.”
Hallie just nodded, letting the information mix with everything else that was tumbling about in her brain. There were gaps in there. Pieces that didn’t fit. Things that didn’t make sense. But she was sure of one thing.
“Someone just tried to kill the Conclave,” Hallie said, voice low and harsh.
“Someone almost succeeded in killing the Conclave,” Cotovatre corrected, settling on the step beside Hallie, her movements graceful and sure despite the tiredness Hallie could see on her face.
She had taken off her heavy robe to reveal a slim-fitting, knee-length tunic and trousers in deep green with comfortable, low-heeled boots.
“We really should be moving, my lady,” Girard said gently.
“I agree. But also, while I deeply admire and respect and even like a good many of my colleagues, they are not going to move until they have all had a chance to say their piece,” Cotovatre said, with a wry smile.
“Unless there is any more danger. And right now, there are no other immediate threats.”
“What about Rojas and Frollo and the others?” Hallie asked, worry gripping her. She could see everyone in the Conclave chamber, but the tac team had been outside, securing an exit for the Conclave members.
“Jasper is trying to contact them,” Girard said, and couldn’t hide his concern. “Phones and radios aren’t working, nor are the internal lines. We don’t have communication with anywhere else inside or outside the building.”
“That’s not good,” Hallie said, and immediately felt foolish for stating the obvious.
Neither Girard nor Cotovatre seemed to mind.
With a sick, twisting feeling in her stomach, which was not due to the sweet drinks, she turned her attention back to the chamber floor where Peredur was facing off against half a dozen Conclave members.
The Conclave members were all talking over each other, in louder and louder and angrier and angrier tones and Hallie could barely make out the occasional word.
The only one of the group that she was at all familiar with was Ulfiam Vargas, and he seemed equally irritated with his fellow Conclave members as with Peredur, if his sideways glares were any measure.
Unable to follow that argument, Hallie’s attention drifted around the room.
She saw Lamorat sitting on one of the benches at the far side of the chamber, close to the windows, with two dark-clad hochlen she recognised as his aides from their visit to Vertiger. They were not talking, rather they seemed to be waiting for the argument to resolve itself.
There was a huddle of Conclave members at one side of the table, and she spotted Hoel Buchanan’s distinctive blond hair.
He seemed to have pulled Tristram Jacobs into his orbit, along with the florid-faced man.
Nanters. She found it interesting that Nanters was not part of the group shouting at Peredur.
She also found it interesting that, from the way everyone was standing, Hoel seemed to be in charge of that particular group.
Some of the aides were sitting together on one of the benches and the surrounding steps, and it looked like they were consoling each other.
Perhaps they had worked for the Conclave members who had died.
Or perhaps they had just been understandably terrified by the explosion and river of molten metal flowing towards them.
On that thought, Hallie looked back across the room and made a mental tally. At least five Conclave members were dead or missing. For a group that had held twenty-three that morning, that was a significant number of losses.
Then she noted that a couple of Conclave members and their aides had made their way across to the exit Peredur had pointed out, along with Dudon and one of the other investigators.
They seemed to be having some difficulty with the door, which sharpened her focus and attention.
She knew she didn’t have the patience or skill to deal with politics, but she might be able to help open a door.
She struggled to get to her feet, body sluggish and slow to respond, and headed up the steps to the top level, making her way around to the door. Girard came with her.
“Is it stuck?” she asked Dudon as she approached. He was the one working on the door.
“It’s an emergency exit,” Dudon told her. “It should be kept clear at all times. But it won’t budge. It’s like it’s weighted on the other side.”
Hallie took a look. The door had been covered in panelling to blend in with the wall, but there was a plain metal lever that should be pushed down, allowing the door to swing out.
Girard moved past Hallie and put the back of his hand on the door, testing it.
“I can’t feel any heat, so there shouldn’t be any more of the metal on the other side.
” He pushed the handle down and then tried to open the door.
Not doubting what Dudon had said, but, from the angle of his head, listening to the mechanics of the lever as it moved.
“As Dudon said, it’s stuck.” He took a frowning look around.
“Is there a fire section somewhere? There should be a fire axe.”
“There should be over here,” Dudon said, and moved away.
“Is this the only other exit?” Hallie asked.
“No. There’s another exit on the other side. Accalon, go check it, will you?” Girard asked.
“Right away,” the other investigator said, and moved away at a steady run, heading for the other side of the chamber.
He took the shortest route, down the steps, past the end of the meeting table, and the rapid movement attracted the attention of everyone else in the room.
Peredur left the shouting Conclave members and strode forward, heading for the wall.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded when he drew close enough.
“The door is jammed,” Girard said, face grim.
Dudon came back with not just one but two axes, and looking past him Hallie could see another concealed panel in the wall that had been opened. She caught a glimpse of the red body of a fire extinguisher, and wondered just what else was concealed in the walls.
“Stand back,” Girard ordered.
To Hallie’s surprise, no one argued, everyone giving Girard and Dudon space as they laid into the door with the axes. They focused on a spot just above the door handle.
After a few swings, Hallie heard a soft click. She cried out a warning. Too late.
The door exploded inward, the full weight of it hitting Dudon, sending him flying back so that he landed on the steps with a terrible sound that made Hallie want to cry out again.
He landed on his back, the nape of his neck across one of the stone steps, his eyes wide open and unseeing.
The fall, the impact, the door, some or all of it had broken his neck, snapping his life out.
There was no time to mourn, as another, smaller explosion sounded and the frame of the door collapsed, sending bricks and plaster and dust into the space, blocking the doorway.
More screams and cries of alarm sounded around the room.
The director moved quickly to Dudon’s side, and Hallie saw his expression as he checked the young man’s neck for a pulse and found none.
She had to look away from the grief on Peredur’s face.
She found Girard beside her, one of the fire axes in his hand, another shallow cut on his face from flying debris, his face tight as he stared at Dudon.
“It’s not your fault,” Hallie said, gripping his arm. “Don’t even think that. It’s the fault of whoever set a trap on that door. Someone doesn’t want anyone leaving this chamber.”
Girard’s eyes were glittering with unshed tears as he turned to her, his face caught in a terrible expression of grief and guilt. She didn’t think he was seeing her, or anything else. Then he blinked and focused on her, voice low and full of emotion. “Someone wants to keep everyone in here.”
“It’s a move against the Conclave,” Hallie said, still holding his arm. She was trying to sound calm although she felt anything but. Her heart was thumping, hearing dulled from the aftermath of the explosions and magic use. “Someone is trying to destroy the Conclave.”