Page 28 of With the Key in the Office
Cendi’s eyes narrowed in the way that means a new map is drawing itself behind them. “The lattice near the greenhouse skimmed,” she said. “The restraint in the gallery slid. The thing in the orchard glitched when it ran too long. That reads like it’s a chameleon.”
“It does,” I said, feeling even more confident now that someone else had confirmed my suspicions. “We’ve been saying shifter because it wore a face, but that didn’t work. This does. We might be dealing with a chameleon who had help to get past the wards.”
Robbie thumbed his phone awake without looking away from me. “We should tell Drew and Ava what’s going on,” he said. “Right now.”
“Now,” I agreed.
Cendi reached for the small brass pull near the hearth, the one that doesn’t ring for anyone except people who know where to listen. Hunters kept an echo line woven through the walls. If you tugged and said a name, the castle carried it to the right ear. She tugged once. “Ava,” she said. “Drew. We have a lead. We’re in the Godmother lounge.”
The kettle chose that moment to sing. Robbie poured water over leaves, awakening the scents of the herbs, and making me give a little sigh of relief. Tea, it seemed, was something that could always make me feel calm, even when dealing with chameleons and hunters.
We didn’t have to wait long for the hunters before we heard boots in the hall. A minute later, Ava appeared in a rain-soaked jacket. Drew followed in behind her with a notepad and the impatience of a man who would rather move than think and had taught himself to do both.
“You rang,” Ava said, not unkindly.
“Chameleons,” I said, the word simply, but both hunters instantly tensed. “I taught lower division Creatures and the lesson turned into a reminder. A chameleon could have worn Cendi, slipped corridors, and shrugged off nets. It would explain the way the restraints wouldn’t stick and the way our eyes kept doing half the liar’s work.”
Drew leaned on the counter and flipped his pad to a clean page. “Distinct from a shifter,” he said. “Body on a human template. Plenty of bluffing. Ward edges miss them because they skate under thresholds. You’re sure.”
“I’m sure enough to ask you to check the roster,” I said. “Anyone on campus flagged as a chameleon. Anyone on the visitor logsin the last month. Anyone whose family lineage kisses that category, even if they prefer another term.”
Ava skimmed the room without moving much. “It’s a good fit,” she said. “I’ll add this to the reconstruction notes. We’ll re-run the corridor echo against a chameleon profile. We’ll ask Lynn whether the night had any corners where the light bent wrong.”
“Leila noticed that today,” I said. “The light bending wrong. She’s twelve. If a twelve-year-old can catch it in a lab, our cameras can catch it in a hallway.”
Drew wrote the words “light bend,” then drew a square around it. “We’ll pull frames,” he said. “We’ll also put out a quiet ask to the junior division faculty. Anyone teaching about chameleons should flag students who suddenly got very interested.”
Cendi poured tea for everyone without asking for orders, which is how you end up with people drinking the right thing. Robbie sliced the apple into neat crescents and shoved a plate toward us because he had long ago decided that food helps in every situation. Ava accepted a cup but didn’t drink yet. Drew ate a slice and said thank you around it, which somehow didn’t make him less stiff; it just made him seem more like a person.
“What else,” Ava asked, giving me a look. “Say the part you didn’t say because you were being too polite.”
How did she know? I must not hide my thoughts quite as well as I had thought.
I rested my knuckles on the table so my hands wouldn’t fidget. “I’m unsure about one thing,” I said. “If a chameleon can’t get past the blood-binding on a key, they would need a workaround. Either they’d have to wear Cendi’s skin, which we saw, or they’dhave to be a caster who can spoof the bound object. We saw the former. We should plan for the latter.”
“Agreed,” Ava said. “We’ll split our search between chameleon bodies and any caster with a reputation for nulling bindings. Nobody good at that hides for long.”
Drew snapped his notebook shut. “Thank you,” he said. “Keep teaching your classes. Keep walking together. If you catch another flicker, don’t chase it into trees.” His mouth tipped. “Chase it into a hallway with cameras.”
“We can do that,” Cendi said, and the tiny sting I carry every time I think about failing the people I love loosened enough to let my lungs work the normal way again.
Ava set her cup down. “Also, Ms. Crayne,” she said. “The junior division thinks you’re cool.”
I barked a laugh before I could manage dignity. “They think I wield glitter responsibly,” I said. “There’s a difference.”
“Sometimes kids are the best barometer,” she said. “Don’t argue with a useful compliment.” She touched my shoulder, the lightest reminder that the job and the person can coexist, then headed for the door with Drew in her wake.
When they were gone, the lounge felt calmer again. Kettle, apple skins, string on the table, the soft weight of a plan that made sense. The new teacher in me wanted a gold star and a nap. The rest of me wanted another class and a chance to make twelve-year-olds smarter about the ways liars move through rooms.
“Good catch,” Robbie said.
“Good tea,” I said, because I liked drawing attention to the small things. They were important too. “Let’s go write the chameleon note into the suspect board before the day distracts us.”
We gathered our cups and our nerve. The corridor outside sounded busy, full of people eager to learn and grow. I tucked the binder under my arm and walked toward the next thing with the reasonable confidence of someone who has a next step planned out and a job to do before dinner.
15
CENDI