Persie Merlin and the Door to Nowhere by Bella Forrest Page 0,149

Repository doors before turning on his heel and striding back the way we’d come.

Drawing in a deep breath, I stepped into the bubble jungle. Victoria stood by the window on the far side, staring out at the verdant scenery—the clash of greens and gray-toned blues, where the clifftop met the sea. Forcing my legs forward, I walked toward her.

“You sent for me?” I said to her imposing back.

She glanced over her shoulder at me. “Yes. I thought you might appreciate the change of scenery.” She beckoned me to stand beside her, so the two of us were looking out at the landscape together. Her arms were slotted into their usual position behind her back, her torso straight like a soldier’s. And I felt as though I was about to be put through my paces.

“Thanks,” I replied dumbly.

She kept her gaze on the horizon, and the lack of eye contact unnerved me. “We haven’t had a chance to properly discuss what happened. As you know, I have been busy arranging quarantines and having teams scour the new wing for any more unknown entities. Now, however, I think it’s time we spoke frankly with one another.”

I fidgeted awkwardly. “I… don’t know what else you want me to say.”

“Then allow me to begin.” She sighed quietly. “First, I must thank you, once more, for the part you played in rescuing our missing people. I do not wish to minimize what you did for them. That being said, matters might have concluded more smoothly had you been truthful about the pixies being Purged from the outset, and had you come to me as soon as you discovered the existence of the Door.”

I lifted my chin, just as my mom did when she was going into an argument. “Not to be rude, Ms. Jules, but you laughed it off when I told you about the Door to Nowhere. If I’d come to you, you wouldn’t have believed me.”

Victoria surprised me by laughing. “It’s not rude at all. You’re quite right. I should have trusted you, but you have to understand it from my perspective. You omitted the truth about the pixies being created, and that led me to believe that you might be lying again when you told me of their innocence. It sounded an awful lot like you just wanted to protect them.”

“I did, because they were innocent,” I muttered. And one omission of truth didn’t make someone a chronic liar. “And you said you understood why I didn’t tell you about the pixies being Purged, initially. You can’t double-jeopardy me.”

She nodded. “I concede that I was mistaken, and yes… I did say I understood, but that doesn’t negate the consequences, even after forgiveness has been given. What I am trying to say is, we need to be able to trust each other from now on. That means I want you to feel like you can come to me with anything. I will not judge you for a Purge, or I wouldn’t have invited you to join the Institute. You must never be afraid to ask me for help, or fear for your position here. If we are honest with one another, then you do not have to worry. I’m concerned because you seem to be expecting an axe to fall, and it clouds your judgment.”

I bowed my head. “I guess I am expecting an axe to fall.”

“Then it will be all the more important that we have an open line of communication, especially since some bad news has revealed itself.” A muscle twitched in her jaw, her eyes turning steely. “It is to do with something you mentioned to me, about your mother.”

“My mom?” I peered up at her, confused. “What do you mean?”

“One of the people who disappeared has not come back, a scientist called Charles Burniston. He went missing around the same time as Xanthippe, though he’d told one of his colleagues that he needed to go into town. That is why I did not, initially, add him to the list of missing parties. However, when he did not return to the Institute, I thought he might not have made it to town at all—I thought that he was taken from his quarters. Now, it is my belief that he was not taken by the Wisps as the others were, and that he did venture into town, but did not return.”

I understood what she was getting at, though it sent a spike of terror through me. I’d assumed everyone who was