Seraph of Sorrow (17 page)

“Francis Wilson. Come in, have a seat.”

“It’s not Francis; it’s Skip. Every person over twenty-five—ugh, never mind. What?” the boy snapped as he leaned against the white-painted cement brick wall. He was a good-looking child, carrying a chip on his shoulder heavier than a redwood. The arachnid form within his abdomen pulsed with incredible power. Glorianna had not seen anything like it since . . . since . . .

“Can we hurry this up? I’m missing gym.”

That broke the spell. “You’ll miss the rest of your life if you don’t show respect.”

The boy actually smirked. “I had a father who was a bully.”

“Yes. He was a member of the Quadrivium.”

His voice got darker and nastier. “Yeah, the Quadrivium. So what? It failed. I got screwed. What, you called me in here to rub it in? Did Jennifer put you up to this?”

Interesting.
She had this boy pegged as Jennifer’s ally, based on what Hank had told her months ago. Apparently, that intelligence was outdated. “Jennifer’s role is not the point. I need information. You have it. You will give it to me.”

“I have information.” He mocked her tone. “I will walk out this door with it. You and your freakish white eyes will get bent.”

And with that, he walked out of the room.

Glorianna was shrewd enough not to try to stop him. She had expected low cooperation from both Slider and Wilson, and she had learned enough from both of them for the time being. She made two mental notes: First, she would have Mr. Mouton suspend the boy immediately. What lay inside that child’s abdomen was nothing less than a ticking time bomb. She didn’t need it going off in the middle of a high school.

Second, before Christmas, she would have one of the town’s peace officers visit his house, and kill everyone in it.

The third interview began far better.

“Hi, Your Honor.”

Glory looked up and relaxed. Despite Hank’s reports on his son, she had not actually seen Eddie Blacktooth for some time. She had worried about him and his mother, and it was good to see him looking well. He was handsome, with pale skin and deep brown hair. While giving the impression of a sparrow at this young age, his features were sharp, and his bone structure promised exceptional good looks when he matured. By the time she took him all in, he had already shaken her hand and dropped gracefully into the chair next to hers.

“Edward. Thank you for seeing me.”

“No problem, ma’am. You’re getting me out of a pop quiz in chemistry right this minute.” He smiled at her, and to her own surprise she smiled back.

“Right to it, then. What can you tell me about the Quadrivium?”

That made him frown a little. “Geez, your Honor. I told Mom everything Jennifer told me. I didn’t even know about the word
quadrivium
until that night Jennifer ran up and . . .” His ears and cheeks reddened. “Anyway, I told Mom everything. She said she’d pass it on.”

“I did talk to Wendy.” This was true; she had done so after receiving Libby’s letter. All accounts of what happened squared, and there didn’t look like there was much more to get, from either Wendy or her son. Glorianna tapped her pencil against the pad in front of her. Maybe the boy could help her with something else. “I hear you’re staying with the Scaleses. I’m sorry to hear of your family’s difficulties. Is Wendy holding up well?”

“Mom? She’s okay.” Eddie shrugged. “I mean, it’s hard not living at home. And I’ve seen her cry when she thinks no one’s around. She’s told me Dad has been bad for her, and I . . .”

When he didn’t continue, Glory pressed. “You agree?”

This time, his shrug was more mysterious. “Dad is who he is.”

“He certainly is. So tell me—how do you pass the time with the Scales family?”

There was another good-natured smile. “Nothing you’d probably approve of, Your Honor.” Her expression made the smile disappear, and he rushed to add, “Nothing that’s going to hurt you or this city, either.”

“Care to be more specific?”

He bit his lip. “Not really.”

“Perhaps I should talk to your father about what you’re up to.”

That friendly smile of his returned, and then tilted. “You’ll tell him I said hello?”

Glorianna shivered at what felt like a thousand bugs crawling up her spine. Fingers clenching her pencil, she pointed toward the door. “Why don’t you go see if you can catch the end of that pop quiz, Edward.”

“Sure.” He winked at her before he got up and left the room.

The next interview had been an afterthought, but she believed in being thorough.

“Am I in trouble?” Susan Elmsmith took in the white brick walls of the teachers’ lounge as though they might collapse upon her.

“You certainly are not, Ms. . . . Elmsmith.” Glorianna tried to put on a reassuring smile as she looked up from her notepad. “Can I call you Susan?”

“I guess.” A sparkling blue fingernail worked its way up into the girl’s dark hair. Glorianna thought of a distant time, when her only thoughts were of perfect nails and hair, and how irritating her father was. This girl’s records indicated she had lost a parent, as well. Perhaps Glorianna could forge a connection? “I hear your late mother used to teach at this school.”

The girl gulped. “Yeah.”

“We don’t need to talk about her, if you don’t want to.”

“That’s okay. She died years ago. Dad and I moved on.” She didn’t sound convincing.

“I lost a parent when I was young, too.”

Susan sat up, interested. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yes, actually, both parents.”

“Who raised you, then?”

“Family friends. I was already fifteen by then, like you.”

“They must have been pretty good friends.”

“No better than your friends, I’m sure. Like Jennifer Scales, and Eddie Blacktooth.”

Like a punctured balloon, Susan deflated into her chair. “Oh. This is about Jennifer.”

If Glorianna could have stabbed herself for her own stupidity, she would have. Like that, the fragile connection was gone. She tried to coax it back. “We don’t have to talk about—”

“No, I get it. Everyone wants to talk about her.” The girl put on a brave grin. Glorianna knew she’d be fighting uphill from this point forward.

“You do keep interesting company. I will bet you’ve seen things no one else has.”

This earned the mayor a mild shrug. “I’ve seen some strange stuff.”

“Anything that has to do with this Quadrivium story in the papers?”

“Jennifer told me a few things. She said her mom sent you a letter with everything in it.”

Damn these people for talking to each other!
If Glorianna didn’t see a conspiracy before, she certainly saw one now. Wendy, Eddie, Libby, Jennifer, that beast Jonathan, and even this girl Susan . . . if they were talking about the Quadrivium, and about that letter, then they were talking about their mayor. And if they were talking about her, and disagreed with her leadership (as they plainly did), then they were conspiring against her. And if they were conspiring against her, and finding people like Susan to convince . . .

She leaned toward the girl. “Susan, do you know the value of keeping a secret?”

The pretty brunette shrugged.

“This town has many secrets,” Glorianna explained. “Some more secret than others.”

“Some secrets more secret than other secrets?” the girl replied, trying not to giggle.

“Do you know what I mean?”

Susan coughed. “Sort of.”

“It’s my job to keep some of those secrets. It’s my job to
protect
people from knowing anything about some of those secrets. The more secret ones, I mean. Still following me?”

“Sure. It’s your job to keep people in the dark about some stuff, and feed them the little bits that you think they need to know. That way, they’ll follow you without question.”

The girl said it so matter-of-factly, Glorianna actually missed the ironic tone for a few seconds. When she caught on, she gave a long sigh. She had one lever left to pull. “Susan Elmsmith. Your family has benefited from this town’s protection.”

“Well, I’ve benefited from
Jennifer’s
protection. And Dr. Georges-Scales was a great comfort to my mom, in her final days.”

The last dead end,
Glorianna thought bitterly. “Perhaps I need to talk to Jennifer herself.”

“She’s away,” Susan faithfully reported. “I’m not sure when she’ll be back. Are you sure you want to talk to her? Because you don’t
sound
like you want to talk to her.”

Glorianna had arranged these interviews in what she thought would be decreasing order of difficulty. In retrospect, she realized her first interview, Edmund Slider, had been the least disturbing of the four people she had talked to today.

“You seem to be in frequent communication with Jennifer,” she managed to say. “Perhaps you could pass on a message to her. Tell her I am intensely interested in speaking with her, the moment she returns to this town. Do you think you could do that for me, Susan?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the girl said, politely enough, and left.

It was several days before Glorianna heard from Jennifer Scales. One morning, the mayor woke up, got dressed, and went downstairs to her office. Outside the window that looked upon the courtyard of city hall, she saw a snake eagle perched on a tree. The snake eagle had a black mamba comfortably wrapped around its talons and torso. Both animals were staring at her.

Later that afternoon, she found half an hour to make it back to Winoka High. This time, Glorianna asked for the principal’s own office. A serene Jennifer Scales strolled in minutes later. The mayor’s eyes strayed to take in the golden angel that still fluttered below the child’s heart.

“Your mother sent me an interesting letter,” Glorianna started once they were both seated. “I was hoping you could tell me more.”

“Mind if I get comfortable?” Jennifer stood up and stretched her limbs, and to the mayor’s astonishment, changed into electric blue skin, softer gray underbelly, large wings, two-pronged tail, three-horned head—it was all there! In the principal’s office! In front of her!

She knew the child could change shape at will. She just didn’t think she would ever dare.

“Jennifer Scales. You are showing me enormous disrespect. I cannot believe Libby’s daughter would do such a thing.”

The dragon showed rows of gleaming, silver teeth. “You’ve
met
my mother, right?”

Glorianna stood on trembling legs. “There is a fine line between conscientious objection, which your mother practices, and outright disregard for civility. If your so-called diplomatic efforts mean anything to you at all, you will change back to your human form
immediately
.”

“Being the obedient daughter I am,” Jennifer answered without fading a single scale on her skin, “I asked my parents if it was okay for me to do this. They both approved. As they put it, I’ve saved this universe—including your fascist ass—and I’ve earned the right to take whatever shape I like, whenever I like. Now, I don’t want you to worry, Mayor. My parents are still raising me right—I have to get all my homework done before I watch any television, and be home by curfew every night! Sometimes, teenagers have to compromise. Am I right?”

Slowly, certain she was losing authority but equally certain she could do little about it, Glorianna sat down again. She could feel the flush of hot blood over her face and limbs. Her sword shifted inside the folds of her robe.

Within the dragon’s abdomen, the angel continued to flit. Glorianna tried to talk to it, instead of to the reptilian head of the Ancient Furnace.

“You were telling me about the Quadrivium. Can you start by identifying the four?”

“You already know two names,” the dragon replied. “They were in my mother’s letter, and the newspaper got them right. Edmund Slider is here at the school, if you want to talk to him. Otto Saltin is dead.”

“I was hoping for the other two names.”

“For the sake of better dragon-beaststalker relations, I’ll give you one: Dianna Wilson.”

Glorianna recognized the name from rumors. Together with Jonathan Scales, this Dianna Wilson had spawned the thing that had threatened Winoka recently. The sorceress could supposedly walk through dimensions no one had ever traveled before—but never, as far as Glorianna knew, had Dianna Wilson dared walk through Winoka.

“Where is Ms. Wilson now?”

“No idea. I doubt you or I could reach her. If it’s any comfort to you, I don’t believe she’s interested in trying the Quadrivium’s experiment again. They can’t do it without her.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“She has what she wants.”

“Which is?”

“Her daughter.”

That made some sense. If this Dianna Wilson felt safe with her loving daughter, maybe she would wrap herself in some strange time-space wrinkle and leave the world alone. Then again, it was possible she would do no such thing.

“What about the fourth?”

“Sorry. No can do.”

“Why not? What possible harm could it do? One of the Quadrivium is dead. The second is a spent shell I let wheel around this town because it amuses me. The third, if what you tell me is true, is a distracted astral tourist. Is the fourth so weak that you must protect her?”

Jennifer shrugged. “I honestly don’t know how weak or powerful. It doesn’t matter. I’m trying to make a friend there, and I don’t need you screwing it up.”

Glorianna considered her options. This had been the most informative interview of the five—but returns were diminishing rapidly. She could continue and grind gears, learning nothing much more of value. She could end it by drawing her sword, which seemed unnecessarily violent (and not entirely wise). Or she could end it on her own terms.

“I’ve enjoyed our chat. You might consider changing out of dragon shape prior to your history lessons this afternoon.” Trying to look more bored than she felt, she stepped out of Mouton’s office and left the bemused dragon behind.

Glorianna found herself alone later that cold evening, sitting in her office, with only a single desk lamp illuminating her grave face. She fought the urge to sweep her desk clean with one arm. Instead, she thought about a young, heroic woman who defied odds and took control of her own destiny. She thought about enemies who appeared to be friends, and vice versa. And most of all, she thought about death.