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PARTII
MAGIC AND TRUTH
42
I’ll say one thing aboutGrease: I left singing “We Go Together,” a trend that continued far into the following week at Lochkelvin. I suppose I liked the songs. The plot, however, bored me senseless. I took advantage of the non-musical talky interludes to make full use of the empty theater, sliding onto Danny’s lap and making out with him, all slow lips and hot skin. Danny, who seemed to know every word of the musical, didn’t seem to mind that I spent half the movie with my tongue in his mouth.
And now we’re back. Home? I don’t think I can ever call it that. But it’s some liminal half-state whose location has become enough of a habit for me to find relief when I finally return. Lochkelvin stands as mightily as ever, its stone corridors old familiars, its windows secrets gleaming within eyes. I’ll never understand this place in the few months I have left to reside in the castle, but that doesn’t mean I need to: perhaps every secret need not be unraveled and some mysteries are worth living with.
The first thing I do when the coach arrives after its bumpy, interminable journey is check on Luke and Finlay in the dorm. Both are healthy and well and seemingly smug about taking a car instead of a rattly old coach. Finlay is clearly still on a high following his stunt upon exiting St. Camford.
I one-up him and divulge that I’d set all the protester’s signs on fire. He kisses me hard on the mouth in return, his eyes blazing with pride.
“There aren’t going to be murmurs of suspicious fires, are there?” Luke asks nervously.
“No. Rory checked back later and said it hadn’t spread. Only the signs were destroyed.”
There’s more kissing — lots of it — between tender strokes of Luke’s face. He’s beautiful and at peace here, and it upsets me that there’s a world outside Lochkelvin that intends to harm him. “Thank you,” Luke says, brushing his nose against mine. “You didn’t need to do anything.”
“I couldn’t not,” I whisper from between his arms. “I’m done with it. All of it. We can’t keep cowering in front of the mob. We need to stand up and send a message.”
“She did more than that for you last night,” Rory acknowledges as he arrives into the dorm, still looking worse for wear after our heavy night as he shrugs off his thick overcoat. “Three glasses of wine and she was right in there, defending you in the pub against some Antiro tossers. I’ve never heard her speak so well on behalf of anyone before. Perhaps I ought to be jealous.” But his voice is filled with teasing energy, and I know that this thing between us all is superior, somehow, to irrational, mortal sins like jealousy.
“I wish I could repay you,” Luke murmurs. “By supporting me, you’re putting a target on your back. You know that, right? You’re risking your life and your future.”
“So what? I’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant distracting the mob away from you.”
Luke shakes his head. “Do not martyr yourself on my account. Please. I beg this of you. More than you know, you are special to me. To lose you would end me.” He glances across at Rory and Finlay, too, adding them to his message.
“Too late,” Finlay says cheerfully, clapping his friend on the back “Ye’ve made martyrs oot the lot o’ us, whether intentionally or no’. Because we fuckin’ love you, pal.”
“This is the last thing I want.”
“We fight foryou,” Finlay says, still upbeat, as he hums a song fromLes Mis.
There’s a knock on the door and Danny’s mousy-brown head peers around, searching for Rory. “The library’s ready,” he informs Rory, like a page to his knight. “Your followers are waiting.”
* * *
The library is bathed in warm yellow candlelight, and the glowing eager faces of a hundred or so young boys surround a round table hidden at the back of the room. Places have been set around the table — there’s a name I don’t recognize, followed by Rory, Finlay, Danny, Luke, and… I stare at the little paper name tag in awe… there’s a space reserved at the table for me.
“Why am I here?” I murmur to Rory as he pulls out a chair for me.
“For the same reason as everyone else around this table. I value your input.”
I don’t know why Rory’s approval means so much to me, but it does and the objectivity in his tone feels rare and special and important. I take my place at this small round table under the cover of late night, a hundred curious pairs of eyes following my every cautious move. Their gold crown badges glitter on their blazers. The other boy at the table I don’t know is a gremlin, like every other young boy surrounding us, but older than the rest and somehow gawkier with it.
This whole set-up, in the darkness of the library, thrills me somehow. It’s secret, clandestine. Plots and plans that none of the other students will ever know about. Decisions made beyond teachers’ heads to benefit Lochkelvin, providing strength in the hands of its pupils. This is lever-pulling, the machinations of power. This is Rory’s inner sanctum — and how he maintains his dominion.
A round table of his own knights.
“I’ve called this emergency meeting to give an update on the world beyond these walls,” Rory murmurs, and all eyes switch from me to him. “I’m not going to sugarcoat it: things are bad. Worse than we thought. Lochkelvin’s safe for Luke and his supporters, but it’s only because of the crucial groundwork you’ve all been doing. You are the eyes and ears of this castle, and I want to commend every single one of you for your sterling work these past few weeks.”
Pleased smiles pop across their faces. Rory’s encouraging words seem sincere enough but I still don’tlikethe gremlins. Then again, I suppose they’ve been of more use than I ever knew…
Rory flicks a careful glance at Luke. “However, from what we’ve learned on our visit to St. Camford, it’ll take a miracle for the peace we’ve managed to maintain here to last. Out there, people are rabid. They want Luke punished — and Benjamin Moncrieff elevated. I know we’ve been staying as far away from all trouble as possible, but now I propose we play bytheirrules. We give them a taste of their own medicine. We quash any and all dissent for Luke.”
The older gremlin at the table, whose name is Duncan, leans forward. “You know this goes against your dad’s views, right?”
