Allie looked at her blankly. ‘I don’t …’
‘I mean, what was his expression? Did he look different than you remember? What was he wearing? Could you see his hands? Was he holding anything?’ She paused before adding, ‘Anything you can remember could help.’
Closing her eyes again, Allie described what she recalled.
‘I couldn’t see his hands. His hair was shorter and neater than it used to be. He looked … older. He wore a suit.’ As she realised what she’d said, her eyes flew open.
‘He wore a suit and tie,’ she repeated, ‘like the man in the woods. And the guys at my house.’
When Allie left Isabelle in the dining hall, she didn’t know where to go. She had a huge stack of homework but it all seemed so meaningless all of a sudden. Her first instinct was to look for Carter, but he was still angry with her and she didn’t want to fight. She knew Jo would be freaked out, and Rachel would want to know everything that had happened. But she didn’t know how much she was allowed to say to either of them. And the truth wouldn’t make Jo feel any better.
For a while, she just walked, with no particular destination in mind. The common room was packed with students chatting and playing games, but she didn’t feel like playing.
The next obvious place to go was the library. She stood for a long moment with her hand on the door. The others were probably in there. And they’d want to quiz her about everything that had happened.
She could tell Carter and Lucas everything – they were in Night School. But the others …
Whirling, she ran down the hallway, and then dashed up the grand staircase. It was crowded with clusters of chatting, slow-moving students, and she darted between them. She was halfway up when she saw Sylvain coming down the other way. The surge of relief she felt upon seeing him took her by surprise. Sylvain knew everything – she didn’t have to keep secrets from him. And he believed her.
When he saw her hurrying to reach him, he quickened his step and they met in the middle of the staircase.
Her words tumbled over each other in a rush. ‘I heard you … talking to Isabelle I mean. Gabe was there. He really was. Thank you. For believing me, I mean. I don’t know if anyone else did.’
She was sure she sounded mental, but he didn’t look as if he thought so. He looked serious and concerned.
‘I merely told her the truth.’ Like jewels, his cobalt eyes refracted the light from a nearby window. ‘It seemed obvious to me that …’ A younger student passed them on the stairs; Sylvain lowered his voice. ‘Look, where are you headed? Perhaps we should get off this staircase.’
Together they climbed to the sweeping first-floor landing. Once there, he stepped out of the stream of traffic into the relative privacy of a window nook. After a split second of hesitation, she followed him. But when they were alone, neither of them seemed to know what to say.
‘So, are you OK?’ he asked after a moment.
For some reason the question made her grumpy. Why wouldn’t she be OK? All she did was see Gabe through a window. It wasn’t like she was in real danger.
‘Of course I’m OK,’ she said. ‘But I’m scared and I’m pissed off. I don’t like being spied on and I don’t like being called a liar.’
His lips quirked upward. ‘Sorry. I assumed you were fine but I didn’t actually know what else to say. The circumstances are bizarre.’
‘Yeah, well,’ she said, mollified, ‘at least you didn’t call me crazy, and I appreciate that.’
‘You are many things, Allie, but crazy isn’t one of them.’ His smile was contagious and she found herself smiling back at him, despite everything that had just happened. But the seriousness of the moment returned and her smile faded.
‘Sylvain, Isabelle says somebody here really is on Nathaniel’s side. Somebody high up. That Night School investigation thing … It’s real.’ Searching his eyes, she saw no surprise, although he hesitated before replying.
‘We’ve known for a while,’ he said, ‘that somebody – one of the teachers or the Night School instructors or senior students – is working for Nathaniel.’
His words made it seem real, and goosebumps raised an icy path down Allie’s arms as she tried to imagine Zelazny or Eloise working for Nathaniel. Or Jo or Lucas. ‘I don’t believe it,’ she breathed. ‘I can’t believe one of us would do that.’
‘None of us can.’ His voice low. ‘That’s the problem. It must be somebody we trust. That makes it worse.’
Wrapping her arms around her torso, Allie looked up at him. ‘Why are they doing this, Sylvain? Do you know? Nathaniel and the people working for him – what do they want so badly?’
His eyes darkened and he glanced out the window before meeting her gaze again. ‘Things we can’t give them.’
Without thinking, she grabbed his arm. ‘You know, don’t you? You know what’s really going on.’
His eyes flashed up from her hand to her eyes, momentarily unguarded; his expression made her breath hitch in her throat.
Dropping her hand, she lowered her lashes. When she dared to glance up again, that look, whatever it had been, was gone.
‘I know things you don’t know, Allie, yes,’ he said. ‘But I’ve been here longer. My family are involved in all of this in a way you wouldn’t understand.’
‘Oh really?’ She’d had enough secrecy. Enough lies. And his vague words infuriated her. As she stalked away she said, ‘I wouldn’t be so certain of that.’