Chapter 15 Uncomfortable Topics
The following morning, the breakfast room was steeped in an unusual hush, as if I wasn’t the only one caught in the undertow of my own thoughts.
I helped myself to lemon cakes and black coffee, then slid into the seat beside Nina.
Leone was absent, but the ever-watchful Trees remained across the table, their visage like branches blocking the sun coming through the high windows.
My gaze drifted to Sequoia. I wondered if the reading we’d shared had shifted anything between her and Aspen—or if the Trees were simply experts at masking their fault lines.
“Nina, Leone and I are working in the lab later today. Will you be in?” I asked, trying to break the tension. I wanted Aspen to know that I was following up on this lead, just as he had suggested. Better to let him think everything was going according to his plans.
“Yeah, all right,” Nina said distractedly. “I’m working in the field. I won’t be in until much later.” I nodded in acknowledgment.
“Still looking for that lost plot of dirt, Nina? I’d find a new treasure hunt if I were you,” Aspen interjected. I turned to Nina and saw her cutting him a daggered stare. Whatever she was searching for must be important enough to rile Aspen.
“You’ll be the first thing I put in that plot of dirt, if the legends are true,” she shot back, standing from the table.
Then she hurried out before Aspen could say another word. I stuffed crumbs of dry cake into my mouth and washed them down with coffee. I’d gotten used to the dry taste of the food here—it at least filled my belly. Strange that no one else had mentioned the lack of flavor.
With just the Trees left in the room, I awkwardly stood and started to leave. I nodded goodbye to both of them before heading out.
Once in the hallway, I took a deep breath.
It was Sunday, so luckily, no Circle tonight.
I wasn’t sure I could handle another mental sparring match with Aspen until I sorted through all his accusations.
It was quarter to nine when I found Leone sitting by the door to the lab, a book in hand.
He looked up nonchalantly, as if seeing me was the last thing he wanted to do today.
“So, there might be a problem,” he said, pointing to the door.
It was locked, but beyond it, I could see a stairwell leading down to the lab. “From the looks of it, there’s a stairwell.”
“How have you gotten down before?” I asked. In my excitement to show him the light analyzer, I had completely overlooked how Leone would get down there.
“I haven’t. I’ve never needed to with my line of study,” he replied, returning to his book as if the real world didn’t deserve more than five seconds of his attention.
I needed to figure out a way to get him down the stairs. Otherwise, I couldn’t help him date his maps, which he had promised to exchange for advice on how to approach the Council for the Skorn deck.
I groaned in frustration. I was going to need help getting Leone down to the lab, unless I wanted to unintentionally contribute to another murder at the school by clumsily pushing him down the stairs.
“Stay here, I’ll go get some help.”
He muttered in faint agreement. I retraced my steps back to the breakfast room, looking for Richard. He was a stout man, but well-built enough that he could help me get Leone down safely.
“Looking for someone?” Aspen’s voice came from across the hall, from the reading room. Was he following me now?
“How is it that we keep crossing paths today?” I asked with a forced smile.
“We are in the same House,” he replied, over a book I now noticed in his lap. It was well-worn, earmarked, and heavily annotated, as if he had been poring over it for quite some time.
“I’m looking for Richard,” I said.
He considered me for a moment, likely debating whether or not to lie. “Richard is probably upstairs, sorting the rooms, and no doubt planning the menu for tonight. Is there anything I can help you with?” His smile made my stomach twist.
“I wouldn’t want to disturb you. I’ll go find Richard,” I said.
“Nonsense. I know this House like the back of my hand. And you shouldn’t disturb Richard, or he might make a mistake on the menu, and we’ll end up eating Nina’s dead pheasants.
What can I help you with?” He closed his book and set it aside.
I sneaked a glance at the cover, which read Playing with Fire.
My eyes flicked upward, drawn to the breadth of his arms—muscles taut beneath the crisp lines of his dress shirt. He was certainly strong enough to carry Leone down the stairs.
Strong enough, too, to push us.
What kind of game was he playing? And how was I supposed to trust him when I couldn’t even tell whether I was a pawn—or a threat—to him?
“You might not believe this, Dahlia, but I’m the most trustworthy person in this House. Let me help you,” he said, rising from the chaise. I instinctively took a step backward.
“Fine, but only if you do exactly as I say.” I faltered. Though I knew Leone would be content to read all day, I didn’t have much time before this week’s presentation to the Council. Forget the research report; I needed to get my hands on a Skorn deck, especially since it was tied to Julian’s case.
“I need you to help me get Leone down to the lab,” I said.
“I was wondering this morning how you were going to do that.” He chuckled, a sly smile creeping up his lips. So, he had been eavesdropping, as I’d expected.
We started walking back down the hall to where Leone was seated. “This is the help?” Leone quipped.
“Oh, come on now, I’m much stronger than this tweed might suggest,” Aspen said, tossing his sports coat on a hanger. The muscles in his forearm tensed as he gripped the handles behind Leone’s wheelchair. I stepped up to intervene.
“We’re going to move slowly, wheel by wheel, but I want you at the bottom,” I said, quickly crafting a plan to get Leone and myself down in one piece. There was no way I was going to let Aspen topple Leone over me to our demise and then easily pin it as an accident.
“Dominant, are you?” Aspen said, wetting his lips. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind my women taking control.” My stomach churned at the way he looked at me.
“Disgusting. Can you two not do that around me, please?” Leone said, half-irritated, looking up from his book. I winced and shot a scowl at Aspen, but his smile only seemed to widen at my embarrassment.
“Let’s get this over with,” I said, unlocking the door with the key around my neck. I flicked on the lights and counted the steps down. “Twenty-two.” I turned and waved for Aspen to go first. He obliged without a word.
“Okay, Leone—let us know if anything feels off. And I don’t mean Aspen’s presence,” I said, rolling him over the threshold to the landing.
I angled him sideways and lifted one wheel at a time.
My muscles, which hadn’t been exercised in months, strained with the weight until Aspen took over the other side and lifted it with ease. His eyes followed me.
“Stop looking at me,” I said.
“I can’t. I mean, we have to coordinate our timing here,” he said, his eyes drifting down to Leone.
“On my count . . . now.” We both lifted at the same time, lowering the wheel another step. We repeated this twenty more times, until I was gasping for breath at the bottom of the landing. My legs were burning too. Aspen, however, didn’t have a lick of sweat on him; he simply rolled his sleeves up.
“Haven’t been down here in ages,” he said, scanning the lab. He sniffed and winced. “Ah, yes, now I remember why. Since Nina took over, no one likes to come down here.”
“You get used to it,” I replied, making my way to the lab benches with Leone.
“Not even a thank you?” Aspen called.
“I’ll thank you once you get him back up, too. It’ll be a couple of hours,” I called back, waving him off. He disappeared back up the stairs, and I exhaled in relief. I really didn’t like relying on him for anything. Maybe Nina could help me get Leone back up when she finished with her fieldwork.
“He likes you,” Leone said matter-of-factly.
“Well, that makes one of us,” I muttered, guiding Leone to the benchtop where the analyzer sat.
“Hm,” Leone hummed, finally looking up from his book and glancing at the machine. “That just looks like a brass box.”
“It is a brass box,” I replied, running my fingers over its sleek chassis.
“But inside, it has a powerful light source. When we shine it through a sample, the sample absorbs different wavelengths of light. Using the photo signatures, we can determine the chemical composition and its age.” My words tumbled out quickly as I got excited.
My father had taught me chemical aging methods back in his lab where he studied the chemistry of mud tracks left at a crime scene. He could determine the age of a footprint down to the day. I wasn’t as skilled as he was, but I could tell samples apart by years, if not months.
“It’s impressive, if it can do what you say,” Leone said.
“I brought these two samples as you instructed. I’m trying to determine when these two maps were drawn.
Both are of the Polynesian islands, created by two scholars who claim to have discovered them first. One says he found the islands through a prophetic vision, the other through map dowsing. ”
“Map dowsing?” I echoed. It sounded similar to what the girls and I had done the other night.
“Yes, using a dowsing rod or pendulum over a map to locate water, precious metals, or anything of value,” Leone explained, turning the two test tubes between his fingers.
“Both scholars claim they were the first to discover the islands, but their claims predate James Cook by a hundred years. Verifying which one is true—and which method was used—could be invaluable to the field.”