The Fiery Heart (19 page)

“Mr. Sage,” said Keith. His voice was flat. “It's so nice to hear from you.”

I gasped in spite of myself. Keith had once been arrogant and obnoxious. In re-education, he'd been frantic and terrified. Now . . . there was nothing. He was blank. An automaton. One of his eyes was glass, but if I hadn't known which one, I never would have been able to tell now.

“I have Sydney and Zoe here,” my dad explained. “Sydney's been worried about you.”

“Hello, Sydney.” I think he smiled, but it was hard to tell. “I've been wanting to thank you. I was sick, and now I'm better. I let myself get deceived by those creatures of evil. If not for you, I'd have lost my soul.”

My tongue felt thick. “That . . . that's great, Keith. How is everything else? Outside Alchemist work?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Um, I don't know. Seen any good movies? Girlfriend?” I knew this was probably frivolous to my dad. “Are you happy?”

Keith barely even blinked. “My happiness doesn't matter. Only the work does. That and continuing to do penance.”

“For . . . for what? For your moneymaking scheme with Clarence? I mean, it was bad . . . but it could've been worse.” I had no idea why I was trying to defend him to himself, but there was just something deeply unsettling about all this talk of souls and penance—especially when I knew the Alchemists' real problem wasn't the side effects of Keith's scheme so much as the fact that he'd simply worked with a Moroi. “And you just said you were better.”

“Better, but not cured.” The tone of his voice sent chills through me. “Those who collaborate with those creatures for anything but the greater good have a long path to redemption, one I'm ready to walk. I have sinned against my own kind and let my soul become corrupted. I am ready to have the darkness purged.”

“You sound legitimately sorry,” I said weakly. “I mean, that's good, right? That's got to mean something.”

“I am ready to have the darkness purged,” he repeated. It was hard to say if he knew he was even talking to me. He sounded like he was reciting something. Something he'd recited many, many times, in fact.

Those who collaborate with those creatures for anything but the greater good have a long path to redemption.
The impact of those words wasn't lost on me. I was doing a lot more than collaborating with Adrian. Was this what I risked? This . . . deadness? The last time I'd seen Keith, he'd been screaming for release from the Alchemists. It had been terrible, yet at the same time, there'd been something
real
to it. A fight. A fire within him. There was nothing now. Keith had been obnoxious and selfish, but he had also always been outgoing and full of personality—even if it was an annoying one. How did he go from cocky to . . . this? What had to be done to him to strip him of all that he was, to get him to agree to whatever he was told?

The tattoo,
I realized. They must have re-inked him with some pretty serious compulsion. And yet . . . some gut instinct told me there was more. The Alchemist ink could make you obey simple commands and make you susceptible to suggestions. This complete personality reversal? That required greater intervention. I was seeing what had to be a combination of a reinforced tattoo and whatever they did in re-education.

I was also seeing what my fate might be if caught.

“Keith,” I managed at last. “How exactly are you purging that darkness?”

“It's time to go,” my father suddenly interrupted. “We're very happy to see you doing well, Keith, and will talk to you later.”

Keith told us goodbye, and we headed out toward our respective cars. Zoe dared a quick, controlled hug to our dad before getting in Quicksilver. I turned to the driver's door, but he caught hold of my hand. I didn't resist because I was still numbed by what I'd just witnessed.

“Sydney,” he said, eyes cold. “You truly have done outstanding work. I'm glad Zoe's here to learn from you. She's headstrong and untried but will eventually learn. And she's right about one thing—don't get distracted. Even if it's just this teacher of yours. There may be a time you can be allowed some recreation. It'd certainly be nice for you to continue talking to that young and upstanding Ian Jansen. But now, even a seemingly innocent social interaction—with a human—is dangerous. You must stay focused on your task. And I know I don't have to tell you about friendships with the Moroi and dhampirs.”

“Of course not, sir.” I wanted to gag.

He gave me what passed for a smile with him and then turned without another word. I drove Zoe back to Amberwood, and awkwardness left over from our earlier spat lingered. As much I'd disliked her selling me out to our dad, I still loved her . . . and couldn't entirely blame her. He was an intimidating person, one who excelled at making you feel inadequate. I'd had plenty of experience with it.

“Hey,” I said, noticing we were passing the ice cream place she and I had gone to last week. “You up for some praline pecan?”

Zoe stared straight ahead without even looking at it. “There's a lot of fat and sugar in that, Sydney.” Silence fell for a few moments. “Maybe I should stop having driving lessons with Eddie.”

“Is he a bad teacher? Has he done anything, um, sinister?”

“No . . .” The conflict in her voice was nearly palpable. “But he's still one of them. You heard what Dad said . . . what Keith said. No collaboration.”

“It's not collaboration. It's business,” I said pragmatically. “What if there's an emergency, and you have to drive? We need you prepared. It's for the greater good.”

Her face relaxed. “I suppose you're right.”

She was quiet again after that, giving my thoughts ample opportunity to spiral around as I contemplated possible consequences of today's meal. Maybe my sterling record still kept me untouchable, but Zoe had tattled on some of my other activities. Were my dad's suspicions raised? It was hard to say, but I would've preferred he had no reason to think twice about me.

And of course, I was still troubled by Keith. His face haunted me. What had they done to him? What had he endured in re-education? And how big a role had re-inking played? Those questions tumbled in my mind over and over, and when we reached the school, I made a decision. It was a difficult one, and one that wouldn't necessarily solve all my problems. But I had to act. Seeing Keith had driven home the desperation of my situation.

I had to make the ink. And I had to inject myself with it.

There was no other way. I had to start making preparations to find out if the ink would protect against Alchemist mental manipulation. One of Marcus's recruits would've been a better guinea pig, but there was no time to get one. Inez had said my magic use might muddle the results, but what else could I do? I had no clean test subject, and doing nothing was unacceptable. If there was a way to prevent others—and myself—from turning into Keith, I had to find it. This was my starting point, and I refused to waste another moment.

After the dorm's dinner, when Zoe went off to a study group, I prepared to go to Ms. Terwilliger's house after first calling her with a very surprising request. Maybe it was dangerous running out on Zoe after the earlier lecture, but I would claim it was a mandatory assignment if she questioned me later. As I was walking toward the student parking lot, I ran into Trey. He looked like he was on his way to work.

“Yo, Melbourne,” he said, coming to a stop beside me. “I have to ask you something. Angeline's been hanging out with that dhampir. I just saw them walking off together. Is something going on with them?”

“Which dhampir?” I asked.

“The one with the fake British accent.”

“I don't think it's fake.”

“Well, whatever.” Even I could read the jealousy in Trey's features. “What's up with them?”

“Pretty sure there's nothing.”

“Then why are they always together?”

Because she's trying to get over you,
I thought. “I think they're practicing or something. You know. Dhampir stuff.” He didn't look convinced. “Maybe instead of stalking her, you should go out with someone else.”

He sighed. “You don't think I've tried? How can anyone compare? You might not believe this, but there is
no one
like her at this school.”

“Oh, I believe it,” I said, thinking back to the time Angeline had forgotten her locker's combination and tried to get into it with an axe. No one was really sure where she'd gotten it from.

“Is she going to the dance with anyone?”

“What dance?”

He pointed to a sign hanging in the dorm's window that read
VALENTINE'S DANCE
. “Honestly, how do you miss this stuff?”

“I've got a lot on my mind.”

“You don't think she'll go with Neil, do you?”

I thought about Neil's indifference and focus on duty. “No. I'm pretty sure that won't happen.”

He put his hands in his pockets and stared off morosely. I waited for some further comment, but when none came, I felt my eyes widen in surprise. “Is it really that big a deal? Her going to do the dance with someone?”

“She's the big deal,” he said, turning back to face me. “I think . . . I think I may have made a mistake with her. I thought I wanted the Warriors to accept me. But do I? What I really want is to wipe out evil vampires and right wrongs. That kind of thing. I don't need them to do that. I can think for myself and find a way to do that, maybe a way that involves Angeline.”

I found myself unexpectedly riveted, mostly because what he was suggesting echoed some of my own desires so closely. “So, what then? You're going to get back together?”

“I don't know. I need time to think about how I can make this all work. And I need her not to go out with Neil or any other guy in the meantime.” He shot me a wry look. “I know, I know. That sounds incredibly sexist, wanting her to put her life on hold so
I
can figure out what I want. But this isn't exactly a typical situation we're in.”

“Isn't that the truth,” I muttered. More silence fell between us, and two revelations hit me. One was that as crazy as Trey and Angeline seemed together, I wanted them to work. The second was that I suddenly had an opportunity before me. “I'll help you. I'll help Angeline stay single.”

“What?” He scrutinized me closely. “You can do that?”

“Sure,” I said. It was an easy thing to promise, seeing as she was still hung up on him and her alleged rebound was completely disinterested, but Trey didn't know that. A smile broke out over his face—then faltered.

“What do you want in return?” he asked cautiously.

“What makes you think I want anything?”

“You're an Alchemist.” Again, he couldn't quite manage the smile. “Alchemists don't give things away.”

“Friends do,” I said, wondering if I should feel hurt at the insinuation or ashamed that he was right in this case. “I'll help you with Angeline. But I need a favor—a big one and one that you, as a friend, are going to have to trust me on.”

He considered for several moments. “Go on.”

Excitement fluttered in my chest, and I attempted to sound calm and trustworthy. “How would you like another tattoo? One that no one can see?”

He stared in astonishment. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I'm serious. There's something I'm trying to do, kind of a side project, that could help a lot of people. Human people. If you could do this, it would be
huge.
”

More than huge. Trey would be the perfect test subject.

“When you and tattoos are involved, they aren't just decorative,” he reminded me. It was true. When I'd first come to Amberwood, I'd discovered that Keith was running an illicit ring of magical, performance-enhancing tattoos. It was what had landed him in trouble with the Alchemists. Trey had seen the dire side effects of Keith's handiwork.

“No, but this one's not going to control you. If it works, it'll actually protect you from mind control.”

His eyebrows rose. “I didn't even know I was in danger of that. And if it doesn't work?”

“Then nothing will happen. You'll just have had the chance to prove how tough you are by enduring another tattoo.” Well, I was pretty sure that nothing would happen. Ninety-nine percent sure. No need to mention the one percent. “Although . . . you'll eventually need another tattoo to prove it works.”

“Sydney—”

“Trey, please.” I caught hold of his arm. “I can't tell you everything, but trust me when I say this is really important. I hope you know me well enough to know I wouldn't ask something like this casually.” His face confirmed that. “You said you wanted to right wrongs? Believe me, this'll do it. And you'll get help with Angeline.”

“So you won't help me if I don't do this for you?”

I hesitated, and some of my vigor faded. There was no way I could blackmail him. “No. I wouldn't do that to you. I'll still help keep her single, no matter what you decide.”

He weighed me with his dark eyes for several long moments. “I may regret this, but okay. We don't always share the same philosophies, but when you say you're going to help people, you mean it. When is this going down?”

“I guess after you get off work. Isn't that where you're going?” I disliked the delay but would take what I could get to have a solid test subject.

“Nah. Just picking up my paycheck.”

Luckier and luckier. “Can you go to Ms. Terwilliger's after that? I'll text you her address, and she'll take care of curfew.”

“This is going down at Ms. T's?”

“Yeah. You can meet her boyfriend. He has an eye patch.”

Trey mulled this over. “Why didn't you just tell me that in the first place? I'm so there.”