“Choose,” she said and, with one quick jerk of her arm, drew the dagger across David’s throat.
Chapter 23
JUST LIKE that first night, the door to Alexander’s house swung open the second I was on the porch, and I walked right in, making my way down the hall and toward his office.
Alexander sat behind his desk, a steaming cup at his elbow, a huge book spread out in front of him. Music was playing in the background, something soft and vaguely sad on piano that I thought might be Chopin. Even though it was past eight o’clock, and he was the only one here, Alexander was wearing another one of those beautiful gray suits, his tie cinched in a tight Windsor knot at his throat.
He glanced up when I came in but didn’t seem particularly surprised to see me. “Ah, Miss Price.” Gesturing to the teapot at the edge of his desk, he raised his golden eyebrows. “I’m assuming the latest stage of the Peirasmos went well, then. Tea?”
“He’ll die, won’t he?” I asked, and Alexander blinked once. Twice. Then, sitting back in his chair, he laced his fingers over his chest. The ring he wore on his pinky glimmered in the lamplight.
“Everyone dies, Miss Price,” he said mildly. “I know American schools are said to be woefully lacking, but it seems this is a fact you would have learned at some point in your educational career.”
I was seriously not in the mood for this tonight, so I folded my arms and glared at him.
Finally, with a sigh, Alexander sat back up, the chair creaking slightly. “It’s true that Oracles seem to have a short shelf life.”
“I don’t mean it like that,” I said, coming to sit in the chair across from the desk. The music switched to something full of violins, the sound scratching over my frazzled nerves. “I mean that if he fully does the Oracle thing, he won’t be David anymore. The Oracle part of him might keep going forever, but the David part, the part I . . . care about. Know. That part will be gone, won’t it?”
Alexander lifted his hands in an elegant shrug. “That is part of it, I’m afraid.”
I shook my head. David might not have been my boyfriend anymore, but that didn’t mean that I was willing to let him get all super magicked up and then forget about him. All I could think of was David in fifth grade, his hair a lot blonder, but his scowl just as fierce when I’d beaten him in the spelling bee. David, one corner of his mouth lifting as he’d called me “Pres.” David, sitting too close to his laptop and leaning over it in a way that made my neck ache in sympathy as he worked on the school paper.
David, the night of Cotillion, crossing the room to kiss me.
Alexander sat forward again, bracing his elbows on the desk and pressing his fingers together. “This seems to be another part of your training Miss Stark has neglected. You see the Oracle as a person. It’s high time you started seeing him as a vessel.”
“David is a lot more than his powers,” I argued, but Alexander was already shaking his head.
“He’s a boy, Miss Price,” he said, and while the word “boy” didn’t exactly drip with disdain, it didn’t sound much like a compliment either. “A boy with powers he hasn’t even begun to understand. Clearly they are greater than you understand. Are you saying that you’d rather David be your prom date than a being with the powers of gods in his veins?”
With a tsking sound, he fixed me with those green eyes. “You think we only want to use him, but his entire existence is an exercise in being useful, Miss Price. You’re meant to protect him from those who would wish to hurt him, not from himself. Not from who he is.”
I thought of what I’d seen in the Fun House tonight, remembering the blank look in David’s—no, not David’s, the Oracle’s—eyes in that vision. “Even if it means killing him?”
Alexander didn’t say anything for a long time, and I couldn’t make myself look up and meet his eyes. I had never been a coward, but after admitting that, I didn’t feel much like being the tough girl right now.
Finally, he said, “Is that what you saw tonight?”
I sat up a little in my chair. “What, you guys didn’t make me see that?”
Sighing, he leaned back. “We engineer the scenario, not the specific visions. This test was meant to be psychological in nature. You saw the things that you fear the most, not things that will necessarily come true. Being confronted with one’s worst nightmares is both a way of testing your mental fortitude and seeing where your heart lies. If one of your fears is David dying—”
“Not just him dying,” I broke in. “Me killing him.”
Alexander inclined his head slightly. “Even so. If that’s one of your fears, that seems to prove that you are the woman for this job.”
For a moment, I saw something flicker in Alexander’s eyes, but he looked back at his desk again before I could tell what it had been.
And then he said, “I know you care about the Oracle, Miss Price, but the more you deny what he truly is, the more hurt you’ll be in the end. It will be easier if you accept it now.”
His voice was tight, and he didn’t lift his head to look at me, but there was a note in his voice that almost sounded like sympathy.
Curious, I sat forward a little bit. “What was the last Oracle like?”
Alexander sniffed and dropped his pen in a little brass cup that held about five more pens. It clinked against the side as he said, “She was obedient and functional and performed her duties as was required.”
That was it, but I saw that flicker again, and how white his knuckles were as he laced his fingers on top of his desk.
“Did you know her?” I asked. “I mean, obviously you did, but, like, the actual her? Or was she always all Oracled up?”
Alexander kept his gaze on me, but I had the feeling he was almost looking through me. “Like most Oracles, there was a period early on where she was more human than Oracle, and, yes, I did know her during that time.”
I’d been so focused on keeping David away from the Ephors that I’d never spent much time wondering how they worked. They were the bad guys, and that had seemed like the only important thing to know. But now I wanted to know a lot more. “Where did y’all keep her?” I asked. “And when did you become an Ephor? Do you apply for it like a job? And that guy tonight, the one who talked to me. Was he an Ephor?” He cut me off with a brisk shake of his head.