“You are not the first young girl to hear the word treasure and have her head fill with ideas. But listen to me, and listen to me carefully, Grace. Don’t think about that. Don’t let it consume you, too!”
Ms. Chancellor seems to realize that she’s yelling because she almost recoils with the words. Then she turns away from the palace and the bonfire and the tourists. She starts back toward Embassy Row as if nothing has happened at all. We walk together in silence, hearts beating, feet pounding.
“Why?” After a few minutes, it’s all I can think to say. “If it wasn’t because of the treasure, then why was Spence killed? Why go to such extreme lengths to cover it up? What aren’t you telling me?”
She stops. For a second, I’m not quite sure she’s heard me, so still does she stand upon this hill. From here you can see the embassies and the wall and the deep blue waters of the sea. But that’s not where Ms. Chancellor is looking.
The crowd blocks the street below us, filling Embassy Row. When someone throws a bottle it crashes to the cobblestones in front of Russia, shattering, splintering, and I know this isn’t a crowd. It’s not even a mob. It’s a powder keg, and Alexei is a spark.
“Look at it, Grace. Look at what’s happening.”
I think about the words she said just a few days before — how history always repeats itself. And how it’s almost always written by men. The truth about what happened two hundred years ago lives in an ancient room beneath this city. And the woman in front of me is one of the few people who know it.
“Mobs are powerful things,” she says, as if that answers my question. And I guess, in a way, it does.
“You think this is what they wanted? You think this is why Spence was killed?”
Ms. Chancellor shakes her head. For the first time since I’ve known her, she seems genuinely unsure. “Honestly, Grace. I have no idea.”
“You have to help him,” I say.
“No, Grace, we do not.”
“Then why did you tell me all of this? The Society stood aside and let a mob make a mistake two hundred years ago. Is your point that you’re going to let it happen again?”
“It’s my point that Alexei should leave the country,” Ms. Chancellor says.
“You mean run.”
“I mean he should get far away from Adria. He’s gone now. And he should stay gone. At least for the time being. If you see him” — she eyes me knowingly — “you should tell him that.”
“So you agree? Someone is trying to kill him? Someone is going to kill him?”
“I know I don’t want you to get hurt.”
It’s been almost two weeks since Ms. Chancellor shot a man to save me. She shot a man, I have to remind myself. Then I want to laugh with the irony, because, in that respect, Ms. Chancellor is far more dangerous than Alexei will ever be.
When I watch her walk away, I remember that I owe her my life. But do I owe her my obedience? My blind devotion?
My trust?
I might not trust Eleanor Chancellor, I finally admit.
And I don’t like it.
“They’re not going to help, are they?”
When I spin, I see Lila standing with her arms crossed, defiant.
I guess my face shows my answer because Lila rolls her eyes. “I knew it,” she says then mutters a word that is some kind of Portuguese insult. It’s like she’s daring fate to talk back.
“Well, at least he’s someplace safe,” she says, then raises an eyebrow. “I mean, you do have him hidden somewhere safe, don’t you?” Lila doesn’t really wait for an answer. Lila isn’t the type to wait for anything. “You and my brother and Megan. Maybe that little German freak.”
“Insult Rosie one more time and you and I are going to have a problem,” I say.
Lila raises her hands as if in truce. “Fine. Don’t tell me where he is. Just promise me he’s okay.”
Lila seems worried. No. Lila seems scared. But then I can’t help myself. I think about what the cops said, what I told Jamie. Spence was killed by someone on that island, but it wasn’t Alexei, I know it in my soul.
Lila was on the island. For the first time, I let myself wonder: What did she see? What does she know?
Does she know about the prime minister and what the Society has already covered up this summer? Does she know that the Society is likely what got my mother killed? Does Lila know about the treasure that may or may not be hidden in the hills or beneath our feet? Somehow, I don’t think I’ll ever know.
“Alexei was the first friend I made in Adria,” Lila says then slowly turns to me. “It was three years ago, and our father had just been posted here. Mother had already come. It was during the divorce, and Noah and I knew no one. We were citizens of two countries, but in so many ways we were without a home. Then Alexei became our friend.”
“Ms. Chancellor says he should leave the country and I should stop sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong. If I were smart, I’d probably do what they tell me for once, but —”
“You’re new,” Lila says. It’s almost like an accusation.
“I’ve been coming to Valancia every summer since I was born, so I’m not new.”
Lila doesn’t seem mad. She just shrugs and goes on. “You’re new to us. To me and Noah. You didn’t know us. Before.”
“Before what?”
“Before our parents got divorced? Before they relocated to Adria? Before our world turned upside down? Take your pick. You didn’t know us before everything went to pieces and Noah learned how to please everyone.” Lila pierces me with a glare. “I learned there’s no use trying to please anyone.”