“Our sorcerous friend,” Joanna had said last night. She’d referred to Oliver.
“Don’t be afraid,” Oliver said, putting his hand on mine once again. “Magic is real, but I’ve vowed only to use it for the good of all humanity. I’m with an…an organization, one might say, that includes Mr. and Miss Ayers. We’re fighting to save our very species.” His fingers tightened around my wrist. “And you do see the ketoi are monsters, don’t you? Whatever you might have thought before?”
I took a deep, trembling breath. I could remember my first reaction to seeing the ketoi, all too well. The night of the Hallowe’en tours, when they’d swarmed through the open doors of the museum, bringing with them the scent of the sea.
I’d been utterly terrified. Nothing I’d experienced in Widdershins had begun to prepare me for the sight of such inhuman things. They’d been menacing, terrible, intent on taking us hostage. Probably on killing us. I’d clung to Dr. Gerritson’s arm, certain we were all going to die.
Then the doors burst open, and Dr. Whyborne walked in, Persephone at his side. They’d saved us. Persephone had cut off the head of the old chieftess, held it up by its tentacle hair, and ordered the ketoi to leave. It had been bloody and barbaric, and I should have run screaming when I saw her next in the house where Dr. Whyborne rented a room from Mr. Flaherty.
But I didn’t.
“Oliver,” I said raggedly, “I know they’re frightening. I do. But please, listen to me. Papa made a terrible, tragic mistake. The ketoi of the Bering Sea compounded it, punishing everyone aboard the ship. But these ketoi had nothing to do with it. They don’t deserve to die because some ketoi on the other side of the world lashed out in revenge. You’re punishing innocents for a crime they didn’t commit.”
“Innocents?” He laughed raggedly. “My dear, sweet, na?ve Maggie. I’ve spent years searching for every report of mysteriously vanished ships. I know about the derelicts found off the coast here a mere two years ago. These creatures are just as murderous, just as guilty, as their kin.”
I pressed my lips together. How could I convince him, when I didn’t have all the facts myself? I knew the old chieftess and Stanford Whyborne had banded together, seeking to rule the land and the sea. But as for the rest of it, Dr. Whyborne didn’t confide such things in me. No one did.
I was only a secretary, after all.
But I did know Dr. Whyborne wasn’t evil or cruel, no matter what blood ran in his veins. I knew that Persephone had saved my life, that she cared about me. That she would never hurt anyone who didn’t threaten her first. I knew Irene loved small animals, that she laughed at herself as much as anyone else, that she had been my friend even if she hadn’t told me why she’d moved into the boarding house with me.
“Pirates did much the same—do much the same,” I said. “Should all of humanity be wiped out for their crimes?”
Oliver sat back, pulling his hand away. “You can’t truly be that ignorant. Don’t you understand? The ketoi aren’t human. Our nature might vary, but theirs does not. They’re like a mass of schooling fish, without individuality. That’s why the bone mask works on them. And that’s how we destroy them.”
Fear made my mouth dry. “Persephone said you killed a god.”
The cold edge to his smile chilled me. “We did. A madhouse doctor—from this very town, in fact—uncovered an ancient spell to summon them. We were able to adapt his work, using the bodies and life energy of the god’s own subjects to fuel the magic. Until at last it rose. Men died, a fleet of ships gone to the bottom. Their sacrifice hidden, lied about, so it will never appear in a newspaper, and no one will ever know the truth of their heroism. But it was all worth it, because now wiping the ketoi out will be so much easier.”
“No,” I whispered. “No, Oliver, please.”
“You still try to defend them?” His hand shot out, catching me by the chin. I yelped, and he shoved me back against the couch. Pain flared through my skull again, his fingers tight enough to leave bruises. “Even after all I’ve told you? Have you no loyalty to your father, that you would side with the very animals that killed him? How could you betray his memory like this?”
“Oliver, please, you’re hurting me!”
“Perhaps I ought to. You are either with us or against us,” he said in a low, ugly voice. “I thought you were still the girl I knew in New Bedford. But you aren’t, are you? You’re corrupted.”
My breath refused to come. My head ached, and my muscles felt locked into place. If I fought him now, was there any hope of escape? He was a sorcerer. He’d kill me.
He might have killed Persephone.
I let my fear show, whimpering as I said, “No, I’m not, I’m just confused. This is all so much.”
It was difficult to speak, with his hand clamped to my jaw. For a long moment, he merely stared down at me, as though asking himself whether or not he believed my pathetic protest.