Выбрать главу

“I’ve heard rumors.” I prayed he wouldn’t demand details but was fully prepared to lie. His gaze weighed me for several long moments before he finally decided not to press me for more.

“It’s an ugly step,” he said at last. “And it relies on getting help from them. But it’s necessary. People like Keith are a danger not just to us, but to all of humanity. Maybe the Moroi aren’t as bad as the Strigoi, but they aren’t natural. They aren’t part of the order of this world, and we must keep their influence away from our fellow man. It’s our duty. Our divine duty. Anyone who can’t understand the balance we maintain with these monsters hurts the cause. Yes, it took a lot of intervention, but Keith has been reclaimed. We’ve saved his soul. You did, Sydney.” Inspiration lit my dad’s face. “You should talk to him sometime. You should see the good you’ve done.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “Oh, I—”

“After dinner,” my dad said decisively. “We’ll call him then.”

A rebellious part of me wanted to ask, “Aren’t we having lunch?” But I bit my tongue. I didn’t really feel like talking anymore. Thankfully, Zoe was still gung ho to get his attention and talked enough for both of us. And as the meal wound down, it drifted back to the court hearing. I nodded along mechanically.

“I’m glad I can count on you two,” he said as we stood up to leave. “Not that I doubted—but after Carly, well. It’s hard to say.”

“What about Carly?” I asked quickly. I noticed he hadn’t left a tip, and I discreetly tossed cash on the table as we walked away.

He scowled. “She’s going to speak on behalf of your mother. But don’t worry. It won’t be enough.”

Joy filled me, and I struggled to keep it off my face. Carly was standing up to our dad! Admittedly, she didn’t face the same pressures Zoe and I did, but I was so proud of my older sister. She was usually the timid one in the family. For her to make this stand for our mother meant she’d come a long way. I wondered if she’d ever have the courage to tell how Keith had raped her. This was a start.

Speaking of Keith . . . my father was determined to show me the “good” I’d done, no matter how much I assured him it wasn’t necessary. When we got to the parking lot, he made a couple of calls to get him through to Keith, and—worst of all—used the video feature. I silently begged for Keith to be doing something, anything, that would keep him away. No luck. After a minute or so, my dad finally got through, and Keith’s face appeared on the phone’s screen. Zoe and I crowded on each side of my dad.

“Mr. Sage,” said Keith. His voice was flat. “It’s so nice to hear from you.”

I gasped in spite of myself. Keith had once been arrogant and obnoxious. In re-education, he’d been frantic and terrified. Now . . . there was nothing. He was blank. An automaton. One of his eyes was glass, but if I hadn’t known which one, I never would have been able to tell now.

“I have Sydney and Zoe here,” my dad explained. “Sydney’s been worried about you.”

“Hello, Sydney.” I think he smiled, but it was hard to tell. “I’ve been wanting to thank you. I was sick, and now I’m better. I let myself get deceived by those creatures of evil. If not for you, I’d have lost my soul.”

My tongue felt thick. “That . . . that’s great, Keith. How is everything else? Outside Alchemist work?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Um, I don’t know. Seen any good movies? Girlfriend?” I knew this was probably frivolous to my dad. “Are you happy?”

Keith barely even blinked. “My happiness doesn’t matter. Only the work does. That and continuing to do penance.”

“For . . . for what? For your moneymaking scheme with Clarence? I mean, it was bad . . . but it could’ve been worse.” I had no idea why I was trying to defend him to himself, but there was just something deeply unsettling about all this talk of souls and penance—especially when I knew the Alchemists’ real problem wasn’t the side effects of Keith’s scheme so much as the fact that he’d simply worked with a Moroi. “And you just said you were better.”

“Better, but not cured.” The tone of his voice sent chills through me. “Those who collaborate with those creatures for anything but the greater good have a long path to redemption, one I’m ready to walk. I have sinned against my own kind and let my soul become corrupted. I am ready to have the darkness purged.”

“You sound legitimately sorry,” I said weakly. “I mean, that’s good, right? That’s got to mean something.”

“I am ready to have the darkness purged,” he repeated. It was hard to say if he knew he was even talking to me. He sounded like he was reciting something. Something he’d recited many, many times, in fact.

Those who collaborate with those creatures for anything but the greater good have a long path to redemption. The impact of those words wasn’t lost on me. I was doing a lot more than collaborating with Adrian. Was this what I risked? This . . . deadness? The last time I’d seen Keith, he’d been screaming for release from the Alchemists. It had been terrible, yet at the same time, there’d been something real to it. A fight. A fire within him. There was nothing now. Keith had been obnoxious and selfish, but he had also always been outgoing and full of personality—even if it was an annoying one. How did he go from cocky to . . . this? What had to be done to him to strip him of all that he was, to get him to agree to whatever he was told?

The tattoo, I realized. They must have re-inked him with some pretty serious compulsion. And yet . . . some gut instinct told me there was more. The Alchemist ink could make you obey simple commands and make you susceptible to suggestions. This complete personality reversal? That required greater intervention. I was seeing what had to be a combination of a reinforced tattoo and whatever they did in re-education.

I was also seeing what my fate might be if caught.

“Keith,” I managed at last. “How exactly are you purging that darkness?”

“It’s time to go,” my father suddenly interrupted. “We’re very happy to see you doing well, Keith, and will talk to you later.”

Keith told us goodbye, and we headed out toward our respective cars. Zoe dared a quick, controlled hug to our dad before getting in Quicksilver. I turned to the driver’s door, but he caught hold of my hand. I didn’t resist because I was still numbed by what I’d just witnessed.

“Sydney,” he said, eyes cold. “You truly have done outstanding work. I’m glad Zoe’s here to learn from you. She’s headstrong and untried but will eventually learn. And she’s right about one thing—don’t get distracted. Even if it’s just this teacher of yours. There may be a time you can be allowed some recreation. It’d certainly be nice for you to continue talking to that young and upstanding Ian Jansen. But now, even a seemingly innocent social interaction—with a human—is dangerous. You must stay focused on your task. And I know I don’t have to tell you about friendships with the Moroi and dhampirs.”

“Of course not, sir.” I wanted to gag.

He gave me what passed for a smile with him and then turned without another word. I drove Zoe back to Amberwood, and awkwardness left over from our earlier spat lingered. As much I’d disliked her selling me out to our dad, I still loved her . . . and couldn’t entirely blame her. He was an intimidating person, one who excelled at making you feel inadequate. I’d had plenty of experience with it.

“Hey,” I said, noticing we were passing the ice cream place she and I had gone to last week. “You up for some praline pecan?”

Zoe stared straight ahead without even looking at it. “There’s a lot of fat and sugar in that, Sydney.” Silence fell for a few moments. “Maybe I should stop having driving lessons with Eddie.”