“I agree, but—”
“We should find this Rafael guy. A King all but disappearing is incredibly suspicious.”
Biba bit her lip. It was like she had more info than she was saying. Like she was afraid to say something. . . .
“That’s the thing, Theo,” she said meekly. “All the Kings had to disappear. Their names were redacted in the Stormcloud archives. Their files disappeared. We know that Dimitri Stamos and Rafael Scamarcio were expelled. It’s even possible that Peter Williams left, either of his own volition or through expulsion. And there were other students involved. We know Gail’s dad was, and I suspect my dad was too. Plus . . . Amelia.”
“What?”
“Amelia was a student here at the time. Her real name is Simone.”
“How did you find this out?”
“She told me. And she wants to tell us everything on the night of the All Hallows Bonfire.”
“Us? Like, me too?”
“You especially. Theo, I can’t do this without you.”
Just like that, what remained of my defenses melted. It wasn’t just that Biba was lovely, though she was. It wasn’t just the instant connection we’d made last year, though that was undeniable. I just had an innate respect for her intellect, doggedness, and ingenuity.
“I don’t know how you do it, Biba Quinn.”
“It’s important to both of us. It’s Gail and my father and . . . just the idea that the power of Stormcloud doesn’t have to be wrapped up in darkness.”
“That’s why I care so much for you. Why I drive myself crazy over you. I don’t want you to get eaten by the darkness. I don’t want you to disappear.”
Her face lit up. She was touched by what I said, which made me smile dumbly. I wanted her to feel touched. I meant every damn word.
“Will you join me?” she asked.
“I think so. This is a lot to take in.”
“It’s the real thing. I know you have trouble trusting me. You and me . . . we had something once. Maybe we still do. But I can’t control you, so I guess I have to accept that you’ll do what you want.
“But that cuts both ways. You can’t control me, and that includes who I sleep with. It’s my right to make those choices. Are we still in this together?”
I agreed, though reluctantly. The possibilities were too tempting.
She was wrong, though. She did know what guided my decisions. It had always been her.
Two hours later, I was sitting on the body of a fallen tree a couple of miles from campus. More and more, I was leaving the school just to walk, like being physically separated from it could make me feel better.
I’d been sitting for the better part of an hour when I heard footsteps approaching from the opposite direction of Stormcloud.
“We need to talk, Brant.”
“Sol,” I replied, “everyone is looking for you these days. You pissed off the wrong people, I think.”
“That’s none of your business,” he replied, standing above me.
Sol looked terrible. His face was slightly yellow from a mass of healing bruises. His black coat, jeans, and shirt were all fraying and soiled. He smelled like muck and woodsmoke.
“That’s the thing about the Kings,” I said. “Everything they do becomes everyone else’s problem. So Zephyr and Arvo want you dead, which means all of Stormcloud is supposed to look for you.”
“It must be nice to be Theo Brant. You get all the deference afforded to the Kings but no responsibility. I wonder why that is.”
That was certainly one way to put it; another way would be that I had to deal with all of these worthless, entitled pricks but had nothing to show for it. I wasn’t about to get into a debate with Sol Stamos in the middle of the Alps, though.