“Oh,” Alex said, trying to take in the strange revelation that the Merrills could have friends. He had thought their amusements ran more to the torturing puppies variety. But the arm-swinging joie de vivre had gone out of Vienna.
“Steven’s been injured,” Alex said finally. “His brother is with him at the hospital.”
Vienna’s eyes grew wide and she brought her hand to her lips. She flipped the sheets, clearing her throat again. “I’ll make a note of it.” Abruptly she smiled awkwardly at Minhi and scurried away, disappearing out of the gymnasium entirely.
Paul watched her go. He said to Minhi, “A friend of yours is a friend of theirs?”
“Do you really want to get into this now?” Minhi asked.
Chapter 5
In the Kingdom of Cots the refugees slept fitfully, Alex and Sid and Paul next to one another. Sheets were strung from metal pipes that had been rolled in, making the place look even more like a wartime hospital than it had before.
There were countless basic necessities that everyone was slow to realize he was missing—Alex, for instance, needed contact solution because he’d been wearing his contacts for two days. They were the extended-wear kind; he could keep them in for two weeks if need be, but ever since he’d gotten them he’d been in the habit of taking them out every night, anyway. It went with preparing for bed as surely as did brushing his teeth and changing into pajamas; on went the glasses.
Alex was pretty sure his glasses had melted clean away in the fire. He would need to go into town and get a new prescription and some new glasses, any glasses. Just for some normalcy.
Breakfast in the morning was brought into the Kingdom of Cots on long tables, and Headmaster Otranto addressed them as they filed like zombies through the line for bread and juice.
“This is not a permanent solution,” Otranto said.
“Sir, when are we going back to the school?” Javi the RA asked cautiously. Alex leaned against the wall, sipping his orange juice. When indeed.
“Ah, yes,” Otranto said. He thrust his hands in his pockets. “It will take some time. There is considerable damage to Aubrey House and the inspectors have only begun to look at it. And unfortunately before we can repair, there are certain requirements that we will have to meet, requirements that we were allowed to ignore as long as no new construction was going on. I’m talking about things you may not keep track of, air conditioning, old insulation in the ceilings. The answer is, months.”
Everyone was stunned. Alex looked back at the cots and hanging sheets and the students’ looks of horror.
“If we’re lucky,” Otranto continued. “So. It is time we discuss what we are going to do now. This school, LaLaurie School, was founded in 1834 by the same American and French investors who founded Glen-arvon, converting a number of grand houses left in a patron’s will. There is one house that has not been used in over seventy-five years. It has rooms enough to house us. Some of you who have been in double rooms will now be in triples—we can’t help that.” Alex glanced around again and judged that tripling up might not be necessary: There were already fewer students anyway. Some boys had trickled out in the wee hours. Alex had even seen Fred Schunk, another of the RAs, shaking Otranto’s hand, a valet in the hall behind him holding what was left of Fred’s stuff.
Another boy, a senior Alex had never met, raised a hand. “Sir? What caused the fire?”
Alex stiffened and shot a look at Sangster, who stood calmly nearby.
Otranto scratched the back of his neck. “It’s not final, but I can say that this morning the inspectors brought me a burnt-out electrical plug. So at this point it looks like a wiring mishap.”
Alex blinked. Sangster nodded an impossibly tiny nod, a micro-expression that said, We’ve got this covered. The Polidorium: good friends to have, and likely terrible enemies.
Otranto continued, “The Board of Regents at Glenarvon has released sufficient funds for us to prepare the house to live in. This will be done with workers and