Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
After the meeting, I told Max I would catch up with him. Then I slumped, going through my mandatory self-assessment after every social encounter. I mentally replayed everything I’d said and cringed, straining to identify how I could have better articulated this or that.
I caught sight of Ellendale’s TA walking out and steeled the last remnants of my social energy.
Maybe he had some insight into why Ellendale was so hell-bent on blocking the investigation.
Or why he was so irate at our suspicions of Dr. Strauss.
Maybe Ellendale had seen something … or knew something and didn’t want to say.
“Hi. Basile, right? Can I talk to you?” I shoved out my hand. “I know you don’t know me, but I’m …”
Basile was terribly good-looking, with dark hair that was smoothed back, a long, elegant nose, and kind eyes. He watched me, a furtive smile starting to build.
“The youngest council member of an arcane school in a century. Responsible for discovering an entirely new branch of Object Theory and Magic study. Countless publications—I know people who’ve been assigned the readings for class and can barely keep up.
Set a car on fire when it wasn’t even part of your objects!
Not to mention, one of the strongest practitioners of Magic in a decade—and you just leave it all behind”—he snapped his fingers—“like that. Of course, I know who you are.” He shook his head.
“You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit. ”
I snorted and played with my earrings. “It’s not really me doing all that. I mean, Max …”
He opened the door to the world outside. It was still early, not yet noon, and a cool breeze drifted over my neck and arms. From a nearby building wind chimes sounded.
“Don’t you let anyone here make you think less of yourself. If Ellendale left campus this second, Robetresse wouldn’t spare a minute grieving him, much less beg him to come back. Actually, she might even cry tears of joy.”
I chuckled. A group of girls walking by waved, skirting a cluster of agaves. “Basile!” one of them shouted, and he waved back, flashing a warm smile.
“That’s part of the reason I stopped you, actually. Mind if I walk with you?”
“Certainly.” I felt like a bobblehead standing next to a movie star.
There wasn’t a person we passed who didn’t wave or at least acknowledge Basile.
Many of them treated him with an almost reverent air.
There was something intangible about him, some illuminating quality that I couldn’t quite put into words.
He had an eloquent way of speaking and a low voice as smooth as velvet.
I could have sworn a girl pulled out her phone when we passed and started recording us.
I slapped my hands over my face in the chillest way possible.
Basile looked over at me and frowned. “You okay?”
“Absolutely,” I said, slowly removing my hands from my face. “Actually, I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about Ellendale.”
He blew out his cheeks, dark eyes glittering mischievously. “Oh, boy. You’re putting me in hot water here, asking me to rat on my boss. He’s got such a bug up his ass about the two of you and this investigation.”
I cast a glance at the students passing us.
“That’s what I’d like to understand,” I said, lowering my voice.
He gestured to a breezeway between two buildings, supported by rough wooden columns.
We stopped in a spot that offered at least a little privacy, our backs pressed against stone. “Why is he so bothered by it?”
Basile’s own voice lowered. “He finds out I talked to you, and I’ll never hear the end of it.”
I turned toward him, the air between us packed so tightly with heat I could barely breathe.
His scent wafted over me, a delicious, smoky combination of anise and lime.
Even the frizzy pieces of my own hair seemed to drift toward him, drawn to whatever product he must have used to slick his hair back.
“But you don’t think Ellendale had anything to do with this? ”
“Of course not.”
Along the border of the breezeway were poppies and scorpionweed, the same purple wildflowers that grew in fields nearby. Absentmindedly I picked one of them, running my thumb over the petals. “Then is it Strauss? Is he trying to protect him? Does Ellendale know something?”
He looked around, ushering me out of our hiding place as other people passed under the breezeway. We crossed the breezeway toward the Arts building, full of the chatter of students and the sharp tap of footsteps on stone.
“Ellendale and Strauss are old friends. I know there are connections to Ellendale’s research funding with some of Strauss’s colleagues at Harvard, but I don’t know.
I guess if he believed Strauss was guilty, or if Strauss said something, that would be a reason to not want your investigation to go further …
” He shook his head. “But he hasn’t said anything to me that would suggest that.
This is all conjecture, and this conversation stays strictly between us, please. ”
While we walked, he shortened his stride so we’d keep the same pace, and I liked the way he squared his shoulders to face me when he answered my questions, his steady brown eyes meeting mine.
He had a pleasant way about him, a gentle smoothness to his mannerisms. When he spoke, his voice was liquid and melodic.
I found myself enjoying listening to it.
“What about your fraternity? Was Dani a member? Some guys on the hall said she used to hang around.” One of the seniors had thought he’d seen Dani around them once.
It was a lead we had to follow up on, but I wasn’t exactly optimistic.
The guy had complained he didn’t like the frat’s “shit taste in beer.”
He thought for a moment. “Dani came to exactly one meeting, and then I think we scared her off. Too many guys slobbering over a girl who liked math. It sucks. I always wonder if she’d joined the fraternity, maybe we could have … I don’t know, protected her or something. Maybe that’s stupid.”
“I don’t think that’s stupid at all. But how could she join as a female student?”
“We’re a gender-inclusive group. We try to have a very welcoming environment.”
“I see, and how was Dani at the meeting?”
“She was quiet. I think she was overwhelmed; the guys can be a little spirited once they get going, but she seemed normal. If you’re wondering if there was any indication that she might go full Exorcist on us, then no.
There wasn’t.” He looked away. “Sorry, the whole thing just makes me sad, you know?”
“Me too.” I looked down. I hated this part, that I had to ask people over and over again to rehash minute details about something so horrible. “And she didn’t come to any meetings after that one?”
“She put her name down for the list-serve, but no. I didn’t see her again until they were taking her to Maritza’s.”
“Okay.”
We’d reached the Phi Kat house at the far side of campus, an old Victorian structure that must’ve been built some years after the school’s main house.
* The staircase creaked, and the roof leaked murky water onto the porch.
In the corner, a forgotten swing hung by one end while the other half rested on peeling floorboards.
“You know,” Basile said, “I think our treasurer has the notes for that meeting still, if you want them.”
“That would be great.”
“Come on in,” he said, beckoning me up the stairs. “You can wait in my office.”
The inside of the Phi Kat house was less dreary. Walls were filled with old-school DnD posters and video-game apparel. Headsets and game controllers were set around a giant TV that faced a beat-up leather couch. Empty beer bottles cluttered up the coffee table. Very bachelor pad.
“Hey, what’s up?” a tall, brown-haired boy said as he headed out the door.
“That’s Paul,” Basile explained. “He’s Phi Kat’s vice president. You might see him flit in and out of the council meetings. He’s doing a work study with Dr. R.”
“Excuse the mess,” he said, directing me away from what looked like soccer equipment, waving to a couple of guys in the kitchen.
“It’s not exactly awesome living with undergrads, but don’t tell them I said that.
” He chuckled. “But free room and board as president of the fraternity while I try to finish my dissertation? Not a bad trade.”
I tucked my hair behind my ear, glad I’d washed it today, though I don’t think the guys in the house minded one way or another. Their eyes ran appreciatively down my frame. I swallowed and tried not to trip.
He showed me to his office, which was little more than a converted broom closet. “Be right back,” he said, and a few seconds later, I heard the thump of his footsteps up the stairs. “Hey, Grant!” he called from somewhere above me.
The office-closet was crammed with posters of mathematics and robotics competitions from the last couple of years, and a large poster of a symbol that looked a little like a misshapen integral. There was a typewriter on a desk that was so cluttered with papers it looked like a fire hazard.
“Here you are,” he said, handing me a piece of paper when he returned a few minutes later. I still hadn’t sat down, opting instead to stand against the door, and now he’d almost run into me.
“Your treasurer’s name is Grant? As in Grant Hafer?”
“Yeah, you know him?”
I shook my head. “Not exactly. But thanks a lot for this.” All of a sudden, I didn’t want the conversation to end.
He was another person my age at this school besides Max and Luce, another scholar, another person who lost himself in his studies like me.
I blurted the first thing I could think of. “Kat is not a Greek character.”
Basile’s eyes lit up, and I flushed. “No, it’s not.
It stands for καθαρ??, Katharos.” He sat down at the chair behind the desk, thumb absentmindedly running over his bottom lip.
“Philosopho, katharí psychí. Lover of wisdom, pure of soul. Truth be told, we’re not as much of a frat as a glorified math club.
We’ve won the tri-state mathematics competition for the last three years in a row, and we participate in this local outreach of robotics and mathematics programs for elementary and middle-school kids.
Since we get a lot of donors and alumni looking to help out, the school let us have a house on campus.
This poster here”—he pointed to the symbol on the poster of two intertwined snakes that branched in two different directions—“a graphic designer alum designed it for us a couple of years ago. It’s a play on an integral.
I know, bunch of nerds, right? We’re lucky anyone comes to our parties. ” He chuckled.
I shrugged. “You don’t strike me as the giant nerd type.”
“What does a nerd look like, I wonder?” He smiled good-naturedly.
I blushed profusely. “God, that was so rude, I’m sorry.”
He tucked his hands in his pockets and rocked back, dark eyes dancing with mirth. “There’s no need to apologize.”
I slipped a lock of hair behind my ear. “Well, I should really get going,” I said, waving the paper around like an idiot. “This is really helpful, super helpful. Thanks—thank you for this.”
He laughed and walked me out of the cramped office, which seemed to be shrinking the more I talked. I sidled past him in the confined space, our shoulders brushing against each other. I held mine rigid so we didn’t accidentally touch again.
He laughed again, not unkindly. “Any time, and if you need anything else, don’t be a stranger.”
“Blargh!” I blurted the minute I was out the door and down the steps, trying to will everything dumb I’d said out of my head. What was wrong with me? I shook my head as I walked away, feeling a little like I’d woken from a dream.
In the interest of having a complete record, I’ve added several of Danica’s shorter journal entries below.
They do give some indication of her state of mind, I think, which seems to change radically in a short period of time.
These take place roughly one month before the murder, from the period of February 25th to March 3rd.
FEbrUARY 25TH
when nyx was born, I became
nyktipoloi
when you were born, I became
whole
FEbrUARY 26TH
It’s like you breathed me into life,
What was once monad, dyad
((((Your soul is immortal))))
MARCH 2ND
Your name means ignorance, did you know that? It means the veil that covers our real nature and the reality of the world around us.
((((Your soul is imprisoned))))
MARCH 4TH
Do I scare you? I know I do. I see it in the way you look at me.