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Someone coughed.
In the still isolation of the tower, that faint, distinctsound was a clarion call. Madeleine satfrozen, listening for more, trying to gauge direction. She thought, perhaps, above. It wasn't close. Standing, she circled to the elevators asquietly and rapidly as she could manage, to jab the buttons. Nothing.
Moving back to the bar, she picked up the long knife she'dabandoned after her attempt on the goo, and forced herself to slow, deliberatemovements, up the straight stair to the fourth floor, pausing at its head tosurvey. The fourth floor was less clearthan the third, with a raised i
In a chair moved from the locker area and set so he couldgaze in the direction of the Spire, he sat legs stretched out, postureweary. His glasses were folded on aclosed book on the floor beside him, and she could see his face reflected inthe window: brows drawn together in one of those frowns which made him lookfurious. So familiar, and so wrong.
What could she do, to get back the person who was soincredibly precious to her?
"The knife seems a little redundant."
Madeleine started, and saw that he – the Moth controllingFisher – was watching her in the thin reflection in the window. She looked down at the knife, decided thatshe was more likely to hurt herself with it than him, and put it on a nearbycounter.
"I don't have a key to the lift," the Moth addedhelpfully. He hadn't turned, hadstraightened in the chair, but continued to watch her via the reflection. He held himself so like Fisher, had thatquality of attentive contemplation.
Her mouth so dry she could barely speak, Madeleine asked:"Why are you here?"
"Oh, I have various threats and ultimatums todeliver," he said, with a faded hint of amusement. "The theory being that you're lesslikely to attack me. But before we goon, there's something you should know."
"What?"
In the reflection his eyes met hers, inexplicably sad.
"You've never met Fisher."
Chapter Twenty-One
"I don't believeyou."
Hoarse, whispered protest, but Madeleine had to grab thenearby counter to keep herself upright. Because the expression was his. The way he held himself. She'dknown on some level even before he spoke. This was the person who had watched her paint. The person she had danced with. The one who had held her, kissed her, becomea new sun in her sky.
"It doesn't make sense. You helped us hide! You...eversince the stair? But why?"
"Initially my role was forward scout," the Moth whowas not Fisher said. "To locateBlues sufficiently stained for the Five's purposes. And, if possible, assemble Blues for theinitial dispersal. That practicallyarranged itself. You, of course, I hadmarked for the Core." Still watchingher in the glass, a reflected boy with a steady gaze. "I don't know if it was due to yoursheer strength, or your initial contact with the Spire, but you were able toinstinctively defend yourself, and injured the Core badly. My orders changed: to keep you within reachuntil the Core was able to claim you."
"They knew where we were the whole time?" All that hiding, a futile game?
He nodded. "Whatbetter way to stop you ru
Effortless manipulation. Tiny touches, never pushing. Supporting decisions to stay, to fight. Playing Musketeer while searching out holes in her defences, gaining hertrust. Throat tight, muscles rigidlylocked, Madeleine faced all which had been said and done between them. She could barely force the question throughher lips.
"It was all an act?"
"No."
Those reflected eyes were fierce, his mouth a set line, firmand absolute. Then he looked away,drawing in a deep breath.
"There's a great deal I can't discuss. Most outside the Fives are barred fromspeaking at all to the Untaken. I haveminor exemptions, but critical subjects can't even be broached, and I've lostsome of the leeway I had. Do youremember what I said, the first time we spoke?
A boy with a head injury, newly possessed, glaring at theSpire with concentrated hatred. Allthis useless death. Don't you want totear that down and stamp on the pieces?
"That was true? But...why? You still – you toldthem where we were, didn't you? Unlockedthe elevator."
"You've never met a hierarchy like the En-Mott," hesaid, then winced, as if something had poked him. "I can't explain in any detail. I can't directly act. I've done all I can to...to line updominos. Time, place, opportunity. The pieces of information youneed." He frowned at thewindow. "Let me get these threatsout of the way. You understand what theCore intends to do to you?"
"Take me over slowly, instead of all at once."
"Your strength makes that a dangerous process. You ca
What was he suggesting? Did he intend to help her escape? Madeleine stared, but he was no longer looking at her reflection, wasgazing down toward Hyde Park. She didn'tknow how to feel. It would be stupid totrust someone who had lied to her from the day they'd met. There was no way to simply step back intoabsolute certainty. But something aboutthe way he held himself, shoulders tight as if braced for a blow...
"Do you have a name?"
His eyes came back to her reflection with a jerk. Startled. Had he expected her to keep calling him Fisher? Then, a thin, wobbling note, a sound shewould struggle to describe, and certainly couldn't reproduce. The name of a Moth.
"Call me Théoden," he said, with a shrug. "He was only possessed in the movie, butit seems appropriate enough."
After a blank moment she realised he was talking about acharacter from The Lord of the Rings. A fictional name, to emphasise the falsity ofthe person she had known, telling her Fisher's hopes and dreams while carryingout the Core's orders. And behind it, anagenda of his own. She had been utterlytaken in, never for a moment suspecting.
"You act very–" She stopped, finding herself stupidly embarrassed. "Nash and Pan, the others. No-one from the school noticed anydifference?"
"Why would they?" Her question had conjured the ghost of a smile. "I'm not sitting in a little controlroom in Fisher's head pulling levers. Heis...a layer of knowledge and reaction, a filter through which I experiencethis world. Of course I would acthuman."
His reflected gaze was unwavering, saying things words didnot. Madeleine wanted to look away, todeny any kind of response, but she could not. Everything about this was wrong, based on five kinds of lie, and stillher heart raced looking into his eyes. This was a person who had co