The Gray Institute_Rebels' Hell

by Leanne Pearson

  'Do you ever think of going back to Berlin?' I ask him, my voice unusually quiet in the silence. Malachy stiffens and doesn't answer for a while.

  'No,' He says simply. 'Why would I?'

  'I don't know,' I shrug. 'Just to see it. To remember it.'

  'I don't want to remember it.' His voice is tight.

  'Most of the time, I don't want to either,' I tell him, trying hard to keep my voice even. 'But sometimes I wonder... ' I trail off, not really sure what it is that I wonder when I think of Berlin. My memories of those days are so hazy, just the odd event here and there. Sometimes I think I'd like to go back to see if I can remember more, to slot the puzzle pieces into place. But I know I wouldn't like what I saw, even if I did. 'Do you remember that time you cut yourself on the rocks in Parum Tower?' I smile, re-living the memory.

  'Yes.'

  'And I sucked the blood and Ebele caught us and told father?'

  'And I got into trouble for cutting myself.' He tuts. He pretends it still annoys him, but I notice the way his shoulders relax a little next to me.

  'You were so angry when he just laughed and said I was a little Immortal in the making.' I giggle.

  'Well it wasn't fair. It was your fault I cut myself anyway, you dared me to try to climb it.' Malachy sounds so unlike himself as he says this, so like the Malachy I used to know, that I lean into him. For a moment he stays where he is, lost in the memory of our early days at Domum. But after a few seconds, I feel him pull away.

  'Malachy,' I sigh, turning to face him. He stares straight ahead, his eyes, so like mine, fixed on the blank wall. 'Where did those two children go?'

  I don't expect him to answer me, I know him better than that. I'm not surprised when he swiftly stands and mutters an excuse to leave without glancing back. I've lost count of the times I've tried to patch the distance between us, to bring back that Malachy who turned beetroot red with annoyance at being outdone by me, the Malachy who wasn't so hopelessly apathetic. But that boy is long gone, and I helped him on his way.

  *

  Father joins us in the Genus Room that evening, casting irritated glances at Caruso every now and then. Sirus hates it when his father tells him what to do, even though he's supposed to listen to the elder Auctoritas. I can't say I blame him; Caruso has an opinion on every matter that ever falls into father's hands. We listen to them talk politics for a few hours, sitting on the rug by their feet. I listen attentively to every topic, absorbing the information like a sponge. But Malachy stares vacantly ahead, occasionally nodding or murmuring an agreeable sound in an attempt to pretend that he's listening. After a while, he stands and announces he's retiring to his room. I get to my feet, too, but he turns to me, an exasperated expression on his face. 'Stay, Lucrezia,' He tries to sound friendly but the annoyance in his tone is impossible to miss. 'You're enjoying listening. I'm just going to read for a while.'

  'Yes, stay, Luca,' Mother has been watching our exchange intensely. 'Tell me more about the Institute.'

  I reluctantly sit down beside my mother, watching Malachy leave without looking back. I indulge her with endless recounts of my lessons, of nights in the Black Room, of engagements and disagreements. She listens with the attention that only a mother can give, until I run out of stories to tell.

  I exit the Genus Room and head along the corridor back towards my room, but before I round the bend, I sense two presences not far ahead, hear murmured voices. Malachy and Ebele are standing in the hall, talking in hushed tones, their whispers urgent. They're too quiet for me to hear from this distance, so I creep closer, stopping at the last inch of the corner where I can remain unseen.

  'As quickly as you can, Ebele,' Malachy's voice sounds strained. 'He needs to get there as soon as possible.'

  'Mal, I don't like – '

  'Please, Ebele,' Malachy sounds desperate. 'Please.'

  'Okay.' I hear Ebele's reluctant reply and her retreat towards the other end of the hall. I emerge from around the bend to find Malachy standing outside his room, lost in his own thoughts. He jumps when he sees me, but tries to pretend I haven't startled him.

  'I hate that gift of yours.' He tries to smile but doesn't quite manage it. His eyes are frightened.

  'I heard you talking.' I say carefully, watching his reactions.

  'Oh, yes. Just Ebele,' He shrugs too casually. 'I apologised for forgetting her birthday.'

  It physically pains me when Malachy lies to me. Once upon a time I was the only person he ever confided the whole truth to. Well, me and Ebele. I could tell him what I heard, ask him what it meant, but I know Malachy, and he would never tell me the truth now.

  'You know,' I try to sound as casual as possible. 'Father will expect you to help him organise troops to search for Ryder.'

  'I expect so, yes.' His voice is clipped.

  'You are going to help him?' I raise an eyebrow. 'Do everything within your power to find them?'

  'Of course I am,' He snaps, frowning at me. 'Why would you question that?' He doesn't wait for a reply before rounding into his room, slamming the door behind him.

  I feel a knot of anxiety twist in my stomach. I'm being irrational, I know. There's no way Malachy could be helping Ryder. How on Earth would he contact her, or even know where she is? He may have feelings for her, and his feelings may have blinded him in the past, but even he wouldn't take the risk of helping a fugitive. Especially not right under our father's nose.

  *

  The next morning, as I sit crouched on my bed reading, I'm disturbed by a light yet urgent rapping on the door. I glance at the clock on the far wall and an inexplicable panic courses through me when I see it's only 7:00AM. 'Yes?' I call out, dropping my book and sitting upright on my bed. The door opens and a Servus enters, her long dark hair shrouding her face.

  'Excuse me, Miss Beighley, your father calls an audience with you in the Throne Room.' Her voice is so quiet and indistinct I have to strain to hear her.

  'The Throne Room?' I frown, confident I must have misheard her.

  'Yes, miss.' She nods, causing her hair to fall even further forwards. I glance nervously at the clock again, hoping I may have misread it. Father calling for me at 7:00AM is never a good sign. Father calling me to the Throne Room at 7:00AM is positively an omen.

  'Very well.' I nod, rising from my bed and following her through the door. Malachy is a few strides ahead of me, I watch his blond hair whip around the corner and hurry to his side. 'Have you been called to the Throne Room, too?'

  'Yes.' He tries to sound confident, as if this is an everyday occurrence, but he can't hide the suspicion in his tone.

  'What do you suppose has happened?' I ask, thinking suddenly of Malachy's hushed conversation with Ebele last night, though I don't know why.

  'I've really no idea.' His tone is dry and he doesn't say anything else as we tread the familiar path to the Throne Room. The heavy wooden doors are closed and two AGs – Auctorita Guards – are stationed outside, as always. They usher us through and we step side-by-side into the largest of rooms. Oval, like the library, but twice the size, the Throne Room is mostly bare, save a wide platform at the far end housing six ornate, golden thrones. In the largest of these, right in the centre, sits our father, his hands clasped together, chin rested lightly on his fingertips. He regards Malachy for a long moment, his red-brown eyes piercing and unfathomable. He wears no expression at all and his body language gives nothing away. After what feels like an uncomfortable lifetime, he lowers his hands and speaks.

  'Malachy, come here.' He orders, his tone low and even. Malachy steps forward, walking briskly to the edge of the platform, but I sense his hesitation. The air is charged with ominous electricity and I dither by the door, wondering whether I should approach, too. After a long pause, Sirus speaks again, his sight firmly trained on my brother. 'I had a visitor this morning,' He says slowly, watching Malachy carefully for his reaction. 'A fellow student of yours. She claims to know you – ' He pauses. ' – And the first year who escaped.'


  I can't see Malachy's face so I don't catch his reaction, but a ripple of fear passes through me and I struggle to keep my own expression blank. Malachy doesn't reply.

  'Does the name Meredith Draper mean anything to you?' Father raises an eyebrow. I watch Malachy's shoulders slump slightly, but I can't tell whether it's in relief or defeat.

  'Yes,' He says finally, letting out a long breath. 'She's in my year, though I wouldn't go so far as to say she knows me.'

  'I suspect you're wondering why a mere third year student was allowed to visit Mount Kamen? Why she was allowed to speak with me?' Sirus asks, not pausing to wait for an answer. 'Sir Alec sent her personally, along with this note,' He holds up a small piece of paper, the tiny markings in Sir Alec's handwriting visible through the other side. 'Would you like me to read it to you?'

  'Certainly.' Malachy tries to sound relaxed, but I hear that his teeth are gritted.

  'Sirus,' Father begins to read, his voice loud and theatrical. 'I am sending one of my students directly to you, as I believe she has valuable information regarding the escape of first year student, Eve Ryder. I am conscious that a letter may fall into the wrong hands, and given the sensitive nature of the issue, thought it prudent that the student converse with you personally.

  The student's name is Meredith Draper, she is a third year who says she knew Eve Ryder well, as did she your son, Malachy. I pray you listen to what she has to say and take her account into consideration in your search for Eve Ryder and my daughter.' Sirus throws the piece of paper onto the arm of the chair and snaps his eyes up to Malachy. 'Would you like to know what Meredith Draper told me?'

  'Of course, father.' Malachy tries to sound sincere.

  'She told me that you and Eve Ryder seemed very close.' He draws the last word out, emphasising his dislike of it.

  'Yes, sir, but as I told you, Sir Alec asked me to – '

  'I remember what you told me!' Sirus spits, anger blazing in his eyes, now black in the flickering candle light. 'You told me that you were acting only on Alec's orders. That you simply befriended Eve Ryder in order to gain her trust, and pass information back to Alec. Would you care to explain, then, why this girl, this Meredith Draper, caught you being intimate with Ryder in the fourth floor corridor? Would you care to explain why you asked her to meet you in a secluded spot, alone? I know you, Malachy. I know you wouldn't prostitute yourself for any cause. If this girl witnessed affection on your part for Ryder then it must have been genuine!'

  'She's lying.' Malachy says quickly, his tone confident.

  'Really?' Sirus sits back in his chair, looking vaguely amused. 'She's lying? And why would she lie about something like this? Why would she dare to speak against you unless it were the truth?'

  'I believe – ' Malachy says slowly. 'That Meredith Draper is in love with me. There are many people who will testify to it. She's not very... subtle.'

  'She's in love with you?' Sirus laughs. 'Then why would she seek to harm you with this damning information?'

  'Meredith has been somewhat frustrated that I don't reciprocate her feelings for some time. She has obviously begun to resent me for it.'

  'It's true,' I step forward, my voice echoing loudly around the stone walls. Sirus flickers his gaze to me with a look of annoyance. 'Draper is in love with Malachy. Quite desperately, actually.'

  'So she concocted a story about witnessing you being... intimate with Ryder, knowing that canoodling with an escapee would tarnish your reputation?' Sirus asks, sounding sceptical.

  'Precisely,' Malachy nods. 'As I said, you can ask anyone at the Institute. They will all confirm her behaviour towards me.' Malachy is standing on thin ice; he's lying to our father's face. It's very difficult to lie to Sirus. In fact, I've never known anyone but Malachy manage it, and even then not every time. Meredith Draper told me herself that she had witnessed something between Ryder and Malachy, back before the escape. She would have told me the full story, but at the last moment she changed her mind. It's what led me to realise that Malachy's relationship with Ryder went deeper than a request from Sir Alec.

  My brother was intimately involved with Ryder, and he did know of her escape. If Sirus discovers either of these things, Malachy's reign is at stake.

  'Do you swear to me that this is true, Malachy?' Sirus asks quietly.

  'Yes, father.' Malachy nods. There's a long, drawn-out pause before father nods at the guard stationed by the doors. I turn as they open, just in time to see a flash of red hair, and I realise all at once exactly what's about to happen. My heart plummets to the depths of my stomach as I turn to Malachy. His complexion appears even paler than usual and he's staring straight at Meredith Draper as though he's seen a ghost.

  'If this is true, Malachy,' Sirus says, looking straight past Draper who stands at the foot of the platform. 'If this girl has told false tales about you, she has committed treason and will be Confined. Nobody speaks against the Auctoritas or our children without good cause and gets away with it. Can you live with that, Malachy? Are you absolutely sure that this girl is lying?'

  Draper's gaze swivels to Malachy's, her eyes almost as blue as his, and I realise that she never predicted this outcome. Sir Alec probably convinced her that Sirus would take her seriously, that there'd be no repercussions for her, that she would be safe. She starts to tremble with fear.

  I hold my breath. All the air seems to be sucked from the room and the silence is so deafening I almost want to scream. There's no way Malachy will condemn an innocent Immortal to Confinement. Not after what happened to Anzhela. He's got to tell the truth. He has to admit to a relationship with Ryder, to knowing about her escape plot. They go hand in hand with one another.

  Is there a chance father may forgive him? Strike another unapproved relationship from Malachy's record?

  Perhaps.

  Will he turn a blind eye to the fact that Malachy didn't mention the escape? That he put all of Our Kind in danger by allowing a reckless human to go free?

  Never.

  'Yes.' Malachy's voice rings loud and clear, buzzing in my ears long after the word has finished. He doesn't look at Draper, he doesn't look at anyone; his eyes stare straight ahead as though he's alone in the room. For a few moments, I could hear a pin drop – even Draper is too stunned to speak.

  'Very well,' Sirus nods finally. He, too, knows how much losing Anzhela wounded Malachy. He, too, believes that Mal would never Confine someone without just cause. 'You and your sister may return to the Institute. But Malachy – ' Sirus eyes him closely. 'You're on thin ice. If I hear one more tale about any over-involvement with Ryder on your part, you'll have some serious explaining to do.'

  'What?' Draper, now positioned firmly between two guards, has finally found her voice. Father barely glances at her.

  'Yes, sir,' Malachy nods, also ignoring Draper. 'Will that be all?'

  'For now.' Sirus nods. Malachy turns to leave, his dark coat swaying behind him, and something about the movement brings Draper back to life.

  'You liar!' She spits, attempting to break free of her guards to charge at Malachy. I see none of the adulation she usually awards Malachy, there is no love in her eyes now. 'You fucking coward!' Her shrieks bounce around the bare room. 'You were involved with Eve Ryder! You were helping her! You were fucking her!'

  'That's enough!' One of the guards attempts to silence her but, in the throes of her rage, she's pretty strong.

  'I saw you together in the fourth floor corridor. I heard you! So eager to break the rules when it comes to your libido but less willing when it comes to the truth?!'

  'That's enough,' My own voice barks in a harsh, impatient tone. It doesn't match my feelings at all; I actually feel sorry for Draper. I know she's telling the truth, she knows she's telling the truth, and worst of all, Malachy knows she's telling the truth, and he's throwing her to the lions. But it's the expression on my brother's face which forces me to come to his aid. He can't even look at Draper, let alone put her in her place. And the longer sh
e keeps talking, and the longer he stays silent, the more suspicious the whole thing looks.

  'Your obsession with Malachy has gone on long enough. It's unhealthy. It's pathetic. You are not a suitable match for him and if you had simply come to terms with that and put it to rest, you would not be in this position. Instead, you let your jealousy and passion get the best of you and concocted this hurtful, despicable lie in order to get revenge – '

  'It is not a lie! I am not obsessed!'

  'Any student at The Gray Institute will attest to the fact that you are and have for a long time been in love with my brother.'

  'I – ' Draper shakes her head, her eyes darting as my words sink in. She knows she's defeated. I speak the truth. Any student would confirm that Draper loves Malachy, and to father, who desperately wants to believe the best of his son, that's good enough.