Chapter 2
Dislocation
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Miranda clasped my hand in both of hers, staring worriedly into my face. “I hate leaving you here like this, Leda. It doesn’t feel safe. Everything’s such a mess outside these walls––”
“Exactly,” I broke in, smiling at her. “Outside these walls. I’ll be fine in here, Mir. It’s not like anyone’s going to let me leave, even if I wanted to.”
I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice.
Still falsely cheery, I released her hands.
“Even Forsooth must think I’ll be all right, since he finally called off the Praecuri guard he had following me around.
” I plucked a crumpled scarf off her desk reflexively and folded it before laying it over her chair.
“Honestly? My biggest danger right now is boredom with all of you gone.”
“Luc will be here,” Miranda reminded me.
I scoffed. “As if I’ll see him. Blackstone’s got him locked away somewhere, working on whatever crazy magical experiment he’s designed for his latest research proposal––”
“They why are you staying?” Miranda whined in frustration. “I don’t understand.”
She exhaled in a huff and walked back to her bed, where an open suitcase lay flat, stuffed to overflowing with a good chunk of the clothing that used to be in her closet.
Another third of her closet’s normally ridiculous quantities of clothing and shoes seemed to be strewn around in various piles on top of her bed and the floor.
I’d followed her in there to keep her company after I’d hugged Jolie goodbye on her way to Bonescastle.
“You could come home with me,” Mir wheedled.
“Or with Jolie. Or Drake! Or hell, with Darragh… his father’s a Warlock, isn’t he?
Any one of us would love to have you home for Yule, and we could totally keep you safe.
As safe as you are here. And if you were outside Malcroix’s chimaeras, we could all mirror to each other’s houses!
At least you can use mirrors outside of Malcroix.
In here, you can’t. You might as well be in prison yourself––”
“You know I can’t leave,” I said, quieter.
I wrung my hands. I felt strangely guilty, even though what I’d said was completely true.
“Believe me, Mir,” I said, apologetic. “I wish I could. But I think Forsooth’s right, and my cousin is right.
It’s better if I stay here. Even if your mother or Draken’s father hired extra security, it’s not the same.
And why would they want to deal with that?
Especially for Yule? You should be relaxing with your family…
not harboring a despised blood-traitor and probable terrorism target in your house. ”
“My mom was the one who invited you!” she argued.
“And I love her for it, but the Praecuri probably wouldn’t even let me go, Mir.” I sighed. “Tell her I appreciate it, but it’s just not going to happen. Not this year.”
I didn’t add that there was absolutely no way I’d let them risk having their house torched on my account, even if my cousin and Forsooth were totally on board.
I also didn’t add that I worried about my friends and their families getting targets painted on their backs if they were seen with me in public by the press.
The very last thing Mir needed, particularly after last year’s gossip campaign against her by that prick, Marcus Ribaldi, was to get labeled a co-conspirator of the “bitch hybrid” who sent Malefic Bones to the bowels of the Pyramid.
I highly doubted Draken’s actor father or Miranda’s famous-director mother would be thrilled to have that information all over the press, either, whatever Mir said.
Their jobs were far too public for them to welcome that kind of scrutiny, even if they liked me and had genuinely strong beliefs around the humane treatment of hybrids.
I worried about Miranda and Draken enough, as it was.
“Anyway,” I said, trying to make my voice sound lighter again. “It’s not just me they’re worried about. Given the protests and riots by The Priest’s followers, the authorities want me out of the public eye, and especially away from reporters. They don’t want the situation blowing up even more.”
“That’s not your job––” Miranda began angrily.
“I know,” I broke in. “I know that, Mir. But I don’t want things to get worse, either. And Forsooth agrees with the Praecuri’s security precautions. He really thinks I shouldn’t risk leaving the campus at all. He was pretty angry my name got leaked so fast…”
That was an understatement.
I’d never seen the normally soft-spoken Forsooth so enraged. I’d never even seen him particular irritated before all this, not visibly, anyway.
His dressing down of Molokai Saladin, Head of the Praecuri, had been something to behold.
He’d flat-out accused the Praecuri leader of allowing his organization to become infiltrated by Dark Cathedral operatives.
He’d shouted at him for probably five minutes, right in front of me, Valor, and Valor’s wife, Esalia.
Miranda looked over her shoulder, the scrutiny in her bright red irises growing more intent.
Her hair, which precisely matched her new eye color, hung in a shocking scarlet curtain by her face as she sorted through the pile of jumpers on the bed.
I knew some of her clothing fixation was nerves.
I knew the rest of it was her compulsive need to cram even more clothing options into her case, in the event of some unforeseen circumstance.
I checked my watch, confirming what I already knew.
She’d need to leave for the caravan in the next five minutes. Ten at most. Jolie made me promise I’d make sure she got out the door in time.
Jolie herself, along with Draken, Darragh, Nyx, and a few others, left campus early to do some last-minute shopping in Bonescastle. The caravan back to London and the rest of England would be picking them up in Academy Square in under an hour.
They were all supposed to meet up at the Black Fox Teahouse with Luc before the caravan left for London.
Luc, like me, would remain at Malcroix for the entire holiday.
Unlike me, he planned to spend the majority of his vacation in the potions and elixirs labs, both on campus and in Bonescastle. He was working on some super-secret project with his advisor, Professor Corvid Blackstone, and he couldn’t talk about it.
Darragh, who remained Luc’s roommate along with Draken in second year, told us it had something to do with magical regeneration, but he had no idea about specifics. Apparently it was relatively normal for new Magical discoveries to be shrouded in secrecy.
Luc told me his parents were both academics and busy over the break anyway, and “aren’t really holiday people,” so he wouldn’t be missing much.
He decided to dedicate those weeks to working on his project instead, since he’d be able to log more time in the labs, and have the spaces basically to himself until the New Year.
His advisor, Professor Blackstone, would also apparently be on campus for the duration of the break, and maintained a house in Bonescastle.
“Is it uncommonly cold in Malibu right now?” I teased, when I saw Miranda pick up yet another wool jumper and hold it up in front of her chest. “Having an icy spell in Southern California this December?”
She blinked at me in the mirror, then turned around and threw the jumper at me.
“Brat!” she declared.
“You need to go, Mir,” I said, tapping my watch. “Remember what Jolie said?”
Miranda acted like I hadn’t said anything.
“Me and Drake are spending two nights in London,” she complained, back to sorting through scarves and stockings on her bed. “You should be coming with us,” she added accusingly. “And Luc. And Nyx, who really has no excuse.”
I didn’t know the story behind that, but I didn’t want to interrupt her roll, or do anything to keep her there longer, so I didn’t ask.
“…Drake’s dad got us a gorgeous, three-bedroom suite at this posh hotel in Kensington,” she continued in a pout.
“We’re going shopping and seeing a show and eating like pigs and going dancing.
” Her voice grew more upset. “We were going to exchange Yule presents then, too. And you won’t be there.
And Luc won’t be there. Which just sucks, Leda. ”
“I’m sorry,” I repeated, and meant it. “Trust me, I’d far rather be there. I’m sure Luc would, too.”
Miranda snorted, probably at my second comment, since I happened to know she firmly believed Luc would rather be locked in a lab than just about anywhere else. She didn’t voice the thought aloud, but instead stared around at her clothes strewn all over the bed.
Finally, she looked at the clock on the mantle, and exhaled in frustration.
Giving up reluctantly on fitting anything else, she yanked the top down on the suitcase and began to zip it up, pausing here and there to stuff fabric and shoes deeper so that nothing would get caught in the metal teeth.
“I just wish you could tell us more about what happened that morning,” she huffed, as she finally got the zipper closed.
“I still don’t get why you were there at all.
What were you even doing in Bones’s room that early?
You just happened to be there when his psychotic father showed up?
And Bones shoved you in his clothes closet to hide you? Why?”
I felt my shoulders stiffen.
She’d asked me those questions before, of course.
So had Draken.
So had Luc and Nyx in their more roundabout ways.
The fact that Miranda kept asking told me she’d already picked up on something from my vagueness and excuses. Since she was both perceptive and tenacious when she wanted to know something, that likely meant she wouldn’t be letting it go anytime soon.