CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
PERSEUS SWANN AMBUSHED JAMES BEFORE he could enter the Exeter Athenaeum antechamber lift.
The pre-Industrial Era wrought brass grates and pulleys were a lattice work of steam-powered machinery.
Discreetly, they exited to the lowest corridors, and they reached the covert embankment of antechambers.
In the brumous corridors, fumes of emulsified human fluids penetrated the viscous, putrid stench of septicaemia.
The walls were crowned with the craniums of the former honorariums and four intricate dissection tables severed the antechamber on each side, bordered with examination utensils.
Even during their practice hours, there was no electricity, only the candlelit library study areas of vellum-bound tomes and massive ancient texts arranged precisely to the dead language from which it originated.
“Why in the entire fuck is Elliott Archway alive?” Perseus was out of sorts, his shirt untucked, his trousers unbuttoned, and by the banned cellphone in his hands, he’d found out in the dead of night that Elliott had returned to the College.
Perseus had sprinted across the sodden lawn through the automatic sprinklers to reach the Exeter Athenaeum antechamber.
“He shouldn’t be alive, James. Explain what the hell happened. ”
“There’s nothing to explain.” James treaded past him into the antechamber.
“Like hell there isn’t,” Perseus snapped at him, forcibly fastening his tie around his neck, buttoning his shirt sleeves, and shoving his shirt into his trousers.
He zipped himself. “The cabal blamed me for the missing corpse as an elector. That photograph better be a forgery. Céline Montclair plastered him everywhere. There are posters taped outside of my estate.”
“And if it is a real photograph of Elliott Archway?” James selected a surgical scalpel.
Perseus brusquely shut the antechamber drapes.
“Everyone will be armed with questions, if this is a real photograph. If Elliott is alive that means Lucien is the one that is dead. There’s no way Elliott killed him, who could’ve even…
?” Perseus lost his words momentarily, trying to imagine a random killer in the woodlands, before staring bewilderedly at James Wilde.
“In Eisenhower…that was you, wasn’t it?”
“What do you mean?” James tilted his head.
“You killed for him.” Perseus fumbled for words as the memory swirled through his befuddled mind. “Lucien was already dead by then. When did you even have time to kill him?”
“I didn’t kill him.”
“Bullshit. You swung an axe at my head. Then you forced me to walk stark naked in five degree weather. Do not lie to me.” Not for a moment did Perseus Swann consider that Elliott could’ve possibly been the immolator, it wasn’t plausible, given Elliott’s kind disposition, his physical restraints at the time, and Lucien’s brute strength in comparison to him when Elliott’s hands were bound.
“Did you send one of the stage technicians out to kill him during the performance?”
James sanitized his station. “I didn’t do anything, Perseus.”
Perseus stabbed a reed pen in his direction sharply. “Answer me. Hellmouth revoked my graduation for the winter. I might not become a rightful member until next spring because of you–”
James staved down the flames of wrath within him. “You sent my best friend for death. You’re lucky to be standing, Swann. I thought of executing you in the wilderness.”
Perseus discarded his reed pen entirely, infuriated.
“Lucien Montclair uncovered the cabal and he extorted me throughout midterms last trimester. I had to shut him up. He wanted the drummer kid, what did it matter if he was your friend? Lucien would’ve exposed all of us–every archon eponymous, every archon basileus, every polemarch, every pledge, every mentor, every alumnus, every benefactor.
It was too extreme to jeopardize everyone. ”
James had little patience. “Then it was best that he was permanently silenced. Wasn’t it?”
“His disappearance drew mass attention,” Perseus retorted hotly under his breath.
He inched closer to him in case they were overheard.
“The police questioned me at my wedding rehearsal, because of his disappearance. You left Connecticut for the rest of us to deal with it all. I lied for you, because I genuinely believed you had nothing to do with any of this nonsense. I saw you perform on stage with my own eyes. How on earth did you manage to be in two separate locations at the same time?”
“You sound incoherent, Swann.” James dried his station, then opened his tome.
“Do you realize what you’ve done, James?”
Vexed, James knew exactly what he’d done. No one was supposed to even know Elliott was alive. Elliott was never supposed to be seen. There wasn’t supposed to be a reporter in the Eisenhower Woods.
The incident itself nearly unraveled everything.
Which was exactly the crisis James was in at the moment.
He needed to get rid of the reporter. At the summons, the Areopagus Council couldn’t confidently place James at the Eisenhower Woods and the theater production of The Paean of The Villains of Winter at the same time.
A reporter’s evidence might change his acquittal from the summons.
Perseus’s lie that he had never seen James there in the woods was crucial to his survival.
If the provost decided James was a potential risk to the cabal, then he would be ex-communicated. His ex-communication would not merely be political death. It would be self-execution in front of the members.
“You’re fucking him at night, aren’t you? Is that what you two are doing in bed?” Perseus groaned. “I thought Lucien was ranting and frothing at the mouth because of the knife incident. Did he catch you fucking Elliott behind his back?”
“Enough questions.” James returned to his tome. He lifted a scalpel in alignment with the position of the instruction visual dated from 1801.
“Lucien told me everything he suspected. He knew about the cabal. He threatened–” Perseus lowered his voice, then leaned further towards James.
“He threatened to expose my affiliations if I didn’t vote for Elliott.
I have cousins in the cabal that I need to protect.
What the hell was happening between the three of you? ”
Nearly out of patience, James set aside the scalpel.
“Lucien wanted to be the governor of Connecticut. My grandfather was the former governor of Connecticut. He wanted my political connections for himself. When I refused, he spun out in rage, and he tried to take the closest person to me in retaliation. That was it. There were no further dramatics than that.”
“Do not lie to me. Lucien referred to you as the Queen of Bithynia for a reason.” Perseus refused to be convinced otherwise.
Perseus was a history major with a philosophy concentration, he knew Lucien wouldn’t mention that specific reference without cause.
“Julius Caesar was accused of homosexuality. He had to swear under oath he was not sexually involved with King Nicomedes. In the Gallic Wars, Julius Caesar’s own soldiers sang victory-drunk war chants about how ‘Caesar got on top of the Gauls, Nicomedes got on top of Caesar.’ Swear to me this isn’t some love affair. ”
James smoldered with hatred as he glared at Perseus. “Lucien was not interested in Elliott himself. He strived to hurt him.”
“You killed for him, then.” Perseus retrieved his cuff links.
He was the son of U.S. Representative Swann, he knew statesmanship at AEscwulf as thoroughly as James did, the explanation didn’t hold water.
“Lucien wasn’t a political adversary for you, yet you killed him without permission.
That was why the Areopagus Council summoned you.
That was why you swung an axe at my head. All of it…it was for him?”
“No, not in the least.”
“Did Elliott at least let you sleep with him afterwards or did you only receive a heartfelt thank you?” Perseus mocked him, retrieving a soggy pack of cigarettes from his pocket.
“I’m not attracted to men. Elliott is not attracted to men.”
“Attracted?” Perseus frowned at the thought.
In Banebury, they had been raised that sex was not related to attraction, nor was marriage related to love.
Lovemaking was a manner of art. A performance for praise and laudation afterward.
However, sex was separate. Sex was about assertion, domination, submission, gratitude.
“The only attraction you have is to yourself, James. You aren’t attracted to men or women, not truly.
Elliott is moonstruck for women, I understand.
Elliott could’ve expressed his gratitude, that’s all. ”
Elliott had expressed his gratitude, profusely even. For Baneburians like Perseus, words were not enough. James knew what Perseus firmly, silently, hinted at–possession.
James should have dominated him into possession.
Elliott should have submitted himself in possession.
It was a matter of loyalty.
“Wouldn’t you save your friend’s life?” James asked instead.
Immediately, James knew the answer to that question. In their freshman year, Perseus Swann nominated his own childhood friend Niall Eastman and shook his hand right before the senior elector led him to slaughter. He even smiled at him.
James was there when the winter ritual was executed.
Niall Eastman’s reddish-brown hair matched his blood on the snow.
His white skin paled as his eyes widened in surprise.
Niall was told the senior elector would kill him in the privacy of the pinelands.
Tears scraped his young eyelashes, a cry pressed behind his lips.
Niall was certain there’d been a mistake that he’d been chosen.
Perseus promised him that everything would be fine.
Perseus said he convinced the electors to vote for a volunteer.
James had never forgotten that moment.