“Never better,” Malachi replied, still beaming. “This was all just a big misunderstanding, really. One of the new Converts didn’t even know they’d put the spell on me. I’ll speak to the Cardinal once we’re back at the Cradle. The Converts don’t pose any threat to the Church.”
The woman watched silently, her eyes never leaving my face. What was she focused on so intently? It seemed familiar, the intensity of her gaze, and when I finally realized why, I grabbed a hold of Cirian’s arm.
“We should be going,” I interrupted the other two. “It’s getting late, and we have a lot to discuss on our way back to the Cradle.”
Cirian glanced over his shoulder, confusion twisting his features, but I silenced his apprehensions with a curt glare.
“Oh, well, if you insist,” Malachi said, switching his saccharine attention to me for a moment, then turning back to the woman. “Reina, I hope to see you again, should the Source will it.”
The woman’s trance-like focus wavered, her eyes falling back to Malachi as her blood-red lips curled into a grin. “Source’s blessing upon you all. And remember what we discussed, Malachi.”
“I will!” he replied cheerily.
Claudia’s gaze didn’t leave us as we made our way back to the staircase leading up into the deserted café. Cirian began to voice a question as we rounded the top of the stairs, but I held up a hand to silence him, not wanting to speak until we were well enough away from the woman and whatever else was lurking in that basement.
The cold night air struck me like a blow across the cheek, and I pulled my jacket tighter around me as we stalked away from the café and towards our destination. Malachi trailed a few paces behind the two of us, humming an aimless tune under his breath as he went, his demeanor far from the intensity that he displayed earlier in the evening. In fact, it seemed a complete reformation had taken place, as if all of his troubles had been lifted at once.
“Why the sudden exit?” Cirian finally asked a few blocks away. He kept his voice low, throwing a careful glance back at Malachi. “Did something happen?”
“I think that woman was one of the Adored,” I replied, matching his volume.
Cirian bristled at that, his pace slowing. “What makes you think that?”
“The way she was looking at me,” I explained. “It reminded me of the way Tobias would focus on those he was trying to Command. And if that were the case, it would explain how she was able to get Malachi to follow her so easily.”
“But why would one of the Adored be involved with Mortals? I’d imagine them the last to lend a helping hand.”
“I’m not certain. But it makes the most sense so far.”
“Do you think she was trying to influence you and me?” Cirian asked. “I felt no brush with magic like when Tobias used his Command around me. No pressure in the air. Why would that be?”
It was a reasonable question. One that I couldn’t answer. There was so much wrong with the theory I’d created, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was close to the truth. If this woman had been one of the Adored, then it would have made controlling any of the Mortals that stepped out of line that much easier. She would be an invaluable asset to the Sleeper. But Cirian was right—if she were an Adored powerful enough to influence other Magi, then her Magic would have felt smothering in that moment.
I was attempting to solve a puzzle without the entirety of the picture. But until I could see the whole truth in the daylight, I would be groping around in the dark.
We continued the rest of the way in silence, with the exception of Malachi’s humming. He certainly seemed happy.But was that merely a façade ordered of him, or the proof of the benevolence of the Sleeper?
My mind drifted back to the parchment in my jacket and the instructions therein. If these people had truly helped Malachi, would that be proof enough that the information given to me could be trusted? Or was I risking Tobias’ safety just because of my selfish desire to see him wake?
As the steeples of the Cradle’s Cathedral loomed closer, I muddled over these thoughts till a sharp pain bloomed behind my eyes. It was late, and I needed sleep. I wanted nothing more than to return to Paradise and begin working through the information regarding waking the Greenes, but there would be no trains running this time of night. Also, I didn’t want to leave until I knew for certain that Malachi’s mind was once again his own.
Which meant I would be forced to spend the night under the Church’s watchful eye.
“Let me escort you back to your room, Malachi,” Cirian told the man as we climbed the stairs leading to the entrance of the Cradle.
“Shouldn’t we go see Her Eminence?” he replied, his humming pausing only long enough for him to form the question.
“She’ll have already retired for the evening,” Cirian explained, pushing open the heavy wooden doors and ushering us inside.
“Yes, of course,” Malachi responded, a certain listlessness in his voice striking my ear.
“We will meet with her first thing tomorrow,” Cirian assured him, clapping him firmly on the back. “After we all get some rest.”
Malachi hesitated, his eyes staring up at Cirian for a moment too long to be natural. Then he blinked and nodded, a smilecreeping across his face once more. “As you say, Acolyte. I’m looking forward to speaking with Her Eminence.”
Cirian cut a glance toward me, and I nodded, acknowledging his concern.
“Come now,” Cirian continued. “Let’s get you to bed.”
