Lord of Shadows (The Dark Artifices #2)(47)

"Did you find anything?" Emma asked.

"I think we've located the likely spot where the body sank," said Manuel. "But the sea was too rough for us to dive for it. We'll have to try again tomorrow."

"Manuel," Zara said warningly, as if he'd revealed the secret passcode that would open the gates to Hell under their feet.

Manuel and Rayan rolled their eyes. "It's not like they don't know what we're looking for, Zara."

"The Scholomance's methods are secret." Zara thrust her damp jacket into Diego's arms and turned back to Emma and Julian. "Right," she said. "What's for dinner?"

* * *

"I can't tell any of them apart," said Kit. "It's the uniforms. It makes them all look the same to me. Like ants." 

"Ants don't all look the same," said Ty.

They were sitting at the edge of the second-floor gallery overlooking the main Institute entryway below. Wet Centurions scurried to and fro; Kit saw Julian and Emma, along with Diana, trying to make conversation with the ones who hadn't wandered off to the dining room, and the fireplace there, to get warm.

"Who is everyone again?" said Kit. "And where are they from?'

"Dane and Samantha Larkspear," said Livvy, indicating two dark-haired Centurions. "Atlanta."

"Twins," said Ty.

"How dare they," said Livvy, with a grin. Kit had been worried she wouldn't be thrilled with Ty's plan to absorb Kit into his detecting plans, but she'd just given a wry smile when they'd come over to her in the training room and said, "Welcome to the club."

Livvy pointed. "Manuel Casales Villalobos. From Madrid. Rayan Maduabuchi, Lagos Institute. Divya Joshi, Mumbai Institute. Not everyone's connected with an Institute, though. Diego's not, Zara isn't, or her friend Jessica, who's French, I think. And there's Jon Cartwright and Gen Whitelaw, and Thomas Aldertree, all Academy graduates." She tilted her head. "And not one of them has the sense to come in out of the rain."

"Tell me again why you think they're up to something?" said Kit.

"All right," said Ty. Kit had noticed already that Ty responded directly to what you said to him, and much less so to tone or intonation. Not that he couldn't use a refresher on why they were halfway up a building, staring at a bunch of jerks. "I was sitting in front of your room this morning when I saw Zara go into Diana's office. When I followed her, I saw that she was going through papers there."

"She could have had a reason," said Kit.

"To be sneaking through Diana's papers? What reason?" said Livvy, so firmly that Kit had to admit that if it looked scurrilous, it probably was scurrilous.

"I texted Simon Lewis about Cartwright, Whitelaw, and Aldertree," said Livvy, resting her chin on the lower crossbar of the railing. "He says Gen and Thomas are solid, and Cartwright is kind of a lunk, but basically harmless."

"They might not all be involved," said Ty. "We have to figure out which of them are, and what they want."

"What's a lunk?" said Kit.

"Sort of a combination of hunk and lump, I think. As in, large but not that smart." Livvy grinned her quick grin as a shadow rose up over them-Cristina, her hands on her hips, her eyebrows quirked.

"What are you three doing?" she asked. Kit had a healthy respect for Cristina Rosales. Sweet as she looked, he'd seen her throw a balisong fifty feet and hit her target exactly.

"Nothing," said Kit.

"Making rude comments about the Centurions," said Livvy.

For a moment, Kit thought Cristina was going to scold them. Instead she sat down next to Livvy, her mouth curling up into a smile. "Count me in," she said.

Ty was resting his forearms on the crossbar. He flicked his storm-cloud-gray eyes in Kit's direction. "Tomorrow," he said quietly, "we follow them to see where they go."

Kit was surprised to find he was looking forward to it.

* * *

It was an uncomfortable evening-the Centurions, even after drying off, were exhausted and reluctant to talk about what they'd done that day. Instead they descended on the dining room and the food laid out there like ravenous wolves.

Kit, Ty, and Livvy were nowhere to be seen. Emma didn't blame them. Meals with the Centurions were an increasingly uncomfortable affair. Though Divya, Rayan, and Jon Cartwright tried their best to hold up a friendly conversation about where everyone planned to spend their travel year, Zara soon interrupted them with a long description of what she'd been doing in Hungary before she'd arrived at the Institute.