The Glass Magician (The Paper Magician Trilogy #2)(33)

She took a deep breath. Knowing Emery, he’d pick up on something if she didn’t act completely calm. She could play up her frustration at being excluded from the meeting if need be.

Pinning her gaze on Delilah again, Ceony said, “Promise me.”

Delilah wilted. “I promise,” she mumbled. “Oh, Ceony, had I known you better at Praff, I never would have passed my final exam!” She hiccupped. “Now I have heartburn.”

The right door to the meeting room opened from within, and a man Ceony only knew as a Polymaker—a plastics magician—stepped out, his attention still on the room within. Empty chairs now surrounded the oval table, but magicians and several uniformed policemen clustered about it in twos and threes, mumbling to one another.

Scooting closer to Delilah, Ceony whispered, “Don’t forget tomorrow.”

Delilah rubbed her palms up and down her arms. “But where will we do it?”

“The lavatory,” Ceony said, glancing at the conference room. The clusters of people were beginning to break up and inch toward the door. “There’s a lock on the door in the lavatory, from the inside.”

Magicians began to filter into the lobby. Ceony snapped back from Delilah and smoothed her hair, noting that her braid looked a little tousled. A person didn’t get a tousled braid from sitting idly in a chair all morning long.

Would Emery notice? Ceony couldn’t help but wonder how much Emery noticed about her at all. Their conversation in the flat’s living room still sat uneasily with her.

She kept her eyes on the conference room doors, watching as Mg. Hughes stepped out into the foyer and started talking with another man she didn’t know. Mg. Cantrell—the Smelter who had interrogated Emery after the buggy crashed into the river—followed behind.

Delilah popped up from her chair like a spring, clutching her bag as if she had stolen it as Mg. Aviosky and Emery made their way over. Ceony resisted reaction—she prayed Delilah wouldn’t give them away with her body language alone.

“I apologize for the delay,” Mg. Aviosky said, glancing behind her shoulder to Mg. Hughes. “Some of us are especially long-winded.”

Ceony faked a yawn and covered it with a hand. “It was long, and those books are tiresome. I assume I’ll hear nothing of what you decided without me?”

Emery frowned—it only showed in his eyes—but before he could respond, Mg. Aviosky answered, “Correct, Miss Twill. The less you know, the safer you are. I’ll be sure to have you debriefed once things have been settled.”

Emery picked up Ceony’s stack of books and cradled them in the crook of one arm, then rested his other hand on her shoulder. “Let’s go back. We have some things to review.”

Mg. Aviosky cleared her throat, and Ceony noticed that her spectacles-framed gaze rested solidly on Emery’s hand. It quickly moved up to Emery’s face.

“If you don’t mind, Magician Thane, I’d like to speak to Ceony privately for a moment,” she said. “Only a moment.”

Ceony’s stomach dropped about half an inch. She feared she knew what Mg. Aviosky wanted to discuss and took great effort not to make eye contact with Emery.

Delilah looked worried.

“Very well,” Emery said, removing his hand. To Ceony he said, “I’ll be outside.”

“Delilah, if you’ll wait here,” Mg. Aviosky said as Emery left. “Miss Twill, this way.”

Ceony, stomach dropping a little more, followed two paces behind Mg. Aviosky. Ironically enough, they ended up in the women’s lavatory where Delilah had worked her magic just moments before.

Ceony made a point of not looking at the mirror. Mg. Aviosky gestured to the chair they’d used to scramble up the dresser. Ceony sat without word.

“When I assigned you to be a Folder,” Mg. Aviosky began, her hands clasped behind her back as she paced back and forth, “I debriefed you on the proper apprenticely conduct and what was expected of you once you began your employment under Magician Thane.”

Trying to keep her brow smooth, Ceony nodded.

“Perhaps there are a few things I forgot to mention,” Mg. Aviosky said, taking a moment to push her round-framed spectacles up higher on her nose. “Such as referring to a magician by his first name.”

Ceony flushed. “I . . . I didn’t mean to do it, it’s just—”

“I’ll tell you now that I do not like mixed sexes in magician-apprentice relationships,” Mg. Aviosky went on, “and I do not assign them unless I deem it necessary, which in your case, it was. Eleven of our twelve Folders are male, and the only female already has an apprentice.”

Ceony touched a hand to her cheek in a feeble attempt to cool it. In all her daydreams regarding Emery, nothing quite this humiliating had ever happened.

“I believe you and Magician Thane are entirely too familiar with each other,” Mg. Aviosky continued, glancing at Ceony briefly before switching her focus to one of the lavatory’s ferns. “Which I do not credit entirely to you, Miss Twill. I’m not here to scold you, only to warn and protect you.”

Ceony slid forward on her chair. “Protect me? What exactly do you suspect Magician Thane would do?” She paled. “Mercy in heaven, have you spoken to him about this?”

“No, I have not,” the Gaffer clarified. “I wanted to speak with you first.”