Siege of Shadows (Effigies #2)(27)
Blackwell’s smug exterior cracked for just a moment, and I didn’t know if it was because of guilt or because of the affront of being accosted by teenager. It was back up in time for his response. “Believe me, little girl. My will is the Sect’s. If the Sect wanted you dead, the Council would have ruled it during your oath, and you never would have left the cathedral.” He watched me suppress a shiver before continuing. “If the Council did not want you dead, then the Sect did not want you dead. In that case, why would I want you dead?”
To keep me from discovering the message Natalya had hidden for Belle. The box under her floorboards. Alice’s letter. There was no other reason.
“Like I have already told the Council and assured the directors, Vasily acted against my own wishes. The Council has already assessed as much. And you know I have no say over what the Council does or does not decide. However . . .” He turned to Sibyl. “It was under your watch that agents are relaying false information about a classified mission—a failed mission, atop of that. Like Director Prince said, we can only do so much, but hasn’t your mishandling of the situation led to this outcome?”
As Sibyl’s eyes narrowed to slits, Prince rubbed his brow with a throaty sigh. “This is ridiculous. Like listening to children bicker.”
Or listening to parents fight. The other girls looked as stiff as I felt.
“Neither of you need worry. You both have a part to play in this mess and thus have earned the brunt of my disgust.” He spoke bluntly, and though he’d managed to bring the rage in his grizzled voice under control, it still simmered beneath his words.
“You should watch your tone, Arthur.” Uncrossing his legs, Blackwell leaned in, propping his elbows up on the table. “Regardless of what you might think—and the mistakes your students have made—I’m still the voice of the Council.”
“What you are, Bart,” said Prince, spitting out the name, “is a member of the Blackwell family, who have and always will be the useless ceremonial crust on the Sect’s toe. A glorified mouthpiece for the Council. A messenger.” Prince gave him a derisive smirk. “The only reason why Langley and I allowed you to be part of this conversation is because I correctly assumed you would have nothing better to do. Is that why you’ve taken to calling press conferences?” He tilted his head, curious. “Were you under the assumption that taking the position of an underpaid media liaison would finally give you a role better than relaying messages and occasionally dining with whichever prime minister has time for you?” His disgust was palpable. “A spoiled little boy with nothing to offer anyone. Like father, like son, I suppose.”
Blackwell’s face had turned to stone.
After a short pause, Sibyl cleared her throat. “It’s time we move on from this,” she said. “I called you specifically, sir, because I needed your advice on what our next move should be in regards to Saul. Maia?”
I jumped a little at the sound of my name. It was the first time anyone had actually acknowledged our existence without prompting.
“During our last communication, you told me that Saul had appeared before you in Marrakesh.”
I nodded. “He told me a bunch of cryptic nonsense, then disappeared.”
“But our scanners didn’t pick up his signature,” Sibyl continued. “We wouldn’t have even known that he’d been there if you hadn’t told us. Saul must be able to mask his frequency again.”
The Sect couldn’t trace him for weeks after his signal went dead in Greenland. What if that was where he’d regained control of himself? If Saul had gone back to masking his frequency weeks ago, then it had to have been the dead soldier whose Effigy frequency Communications tracked to the desert hideout. I shook my head, considering the possibility.
“Saul could have taken her in her room.” Belle folded her arms across her chest. “Even if she is his final goal, we have to assume he’s planning something bigger.”
“Like an attack?” Chae Rin asked. “Maybe. Right?”
“He told me he wanted to change the world.” I squeezed my fingers into my palms. “But we’ve got his ring, so he can’t control phantoms anymore.”
“He’ll come for you regardless,” said Sibyl. “He’s been fixated on you from the start.”
I sucked in a deep breath, closing my eyes to keep calm. Yes, Saul wanted me. I was his gateway to Marian, the Effigy swimming around somewhere in my subconscious with all the others. Only she had the information he wanted—where to find the rest of the stone from which his ring descended. Only then could he grant his ultimate wish, whatever that was. Belle was wrong. Marian was his final goal. I was just the sack of flesh standing in his way.
The sound of metal scraping the hardwood floor stopped the conversation dead. Blackwell pushed out his chair slowly, deliberately drawing out the noise.
“Ah, yes, good,” he said, pleased, maybe, that he’d succeeded in gaining our attention. “Plan your next operation. I won’t stop you.” Standing, he adjusted his long jacket over his shoulders. “But I should remind you of this, Arthur. I am the voice of the Council.” He looked menacing as he said it. “The Council wants results. And if they don’t get them, they’ll surely make adjustments needed to the organization itself—including the chain of command.”