Page 100 of The Last Necromancer
The leather creaked again. Footsteps paced across the floor, but not near the door. Waiting for someone to speak was painful.
"Then what is to be done with her?" Lord Marchbank's calm words broke the tension. "Gillingham is right, in that she cannot be allowed to fall into our enemies’ hands. For that reason alone, I don't think sending her to Lady Harcourt's house is a good idea. There are too many people coming and going."
"What do you propose, March?" the general asked.
"The village near my Yorkshire estate is far from civilization. She'll be out of harm's way there. I know a kind, elderly couple who will take her in, as long as we pay them a sum each month."
Yorkshire! That was so far away!
"Exile," Lady Harcourt said flatly. "I think that might work."
"Agreed," the general said. "But not Yorkshire. It's too close. And what if she is seen performing her necromancy?"
"She won't perform necromancy by accident," Fitzroy said.
"I do think exile is a good idea," Lady Harcourt said. "But perhaps in another country."
Another country! Why not just send me to the wilds of Africa and let the lions feast on me?
Eastbrooke agreed with her. "Leave it to me. Have her pack a few things now, Fitzroy. She can come with me today, and I'll have her on a ship by nightfall."
Today!
"To where?" Fitzroy asked.
"It's best if you don't know. The fewer people who do, the better."
"I disagree."
"An asylum would suffice," Gillingham grumbled. "That's where the freaks and deranged go. Hide them away, that's what I say. Does anyone know of an asylum in another country? Somewhere they don't allow visitors, preferably."
I gasped then shut my mouth. I listened for signs that they'd heard me, but none came. Lady Harcourt was speaking again.
"She doesn't belong in an asylum. General Eastbrooke, I like your idea of exile. I trust you have somewhere in mind?"
"I do. Pleasant little island I came across in my time in the army. It'll do nicely, but that's all I'll tell you about the place. Best if you don't know any more."
"I'll see that she's ready to—"
"No." Fitzroy's tone chilled me to the bone, even as my heart lifted to hear him speak out for me.
"No?" Gillingham sneered. "You dare to refuse the general's suggestion? If you ask me, she's getting off lightly."
"I'm not asking you. I'm not asking any of you for your opinions. Exile is not a good idea in this case."
"What?" Eastbrooke exploded. "Have you gone soft?"
"Let him speak," Marchbank said. "Go on, Fitzroy. What do you propose?"
"You're all correct in that our enemies will try to use her against us," Fitzroy said. "That's why we need to keep her close, not push her away. We can't keep her out of their hands if we can't see her."
"Don't tell me you want to keep her here," the general scoffed.
"I do, for two reasons. To protect her from anyone who would use her, and to study her."
"Study her! You have gone mad."
My sentiments precisely. Study me? As in subject me to tests and interrogation? I wouldn't be a party to that.
