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“Well, we’re not at the end of your story just yet,” you tell Leigh, “What happened after that? Who contacted Sakhalin, and how did you end up in that cabin?”
Leigh’s jaw hangs slack as he tries to process the rush of questions. “I didn’t have much time to look through the Choirmaster’s files, so I decided to come back later. The security in that office is… really lax. Once you’re inside the building, I mean. I thought I’d be able to sneak into her office again while she was out, say I was cleaning if I got caught, but…” he hesitates, “I think she realised what I’d done. The next time I visited her office, the whole place was cleaned out. Everything was gone, and so was the Choirmaster.”
“So I realised my cover was blown. I got out as fast as I could, and went straight back to Master Teilhard’s man. He got me to contact Master Sakhalin, and suggested a good place to meet,” the young man continues, “I never realised that I was being followed, but I got a… a bad feeling. I was running for the cabin when I fell and hurt my leg. Then I was down there in the dark, waiting and waiting-”
“Yes yes, we know that part,” you interrupt, casting a glance across to Master Teilhard, “I don’t know who this agent of yours is, but you need to check on him. He might be in danger too, if Leigh led the Choirmaster’s men to him.”
“I’ll contact him straight away,” Master Teilhard replies, rising from his chair and stalking out.
You turn back to Leigh, who has somehow managed to look even more worried. He was so concerned about himself that he never thought that anyone else might get caught up in his troubles. “You said that the Choirmaster had files on everyone. What else does she have – or claim to have?” you press, giving Sakhalin a look, “It doesn’t even matter if it’s true or not. When the Choirmaster speaks, people will listen. I know that all too well.”
“She had so many files, I couldn’t check through them all,” Leigh whines, “I saw files for all the major families, the key figures. Priests, industrialists, military officers…”
You shudder a little as Leigh’s voice fades into silence. It’s hard to grasp the scale of what he’s suggesting. Elle told you about the “official” archives that the oracles keep, but Moreau’s private archives seem just as extensive. You can only assume that she has enough material to ruin whoever she chooses, a sword to dangle above the head of the nation.
“So,” Sakhalin says at last, breaking his silence, “We find ourselves in a difficult situation. Young Master Leigh, you mentioned that the Choirmaster has gone, correct?”
“Right. I heard that she left in a carriage, but nobody seemed to know where she was going,” he lets out a nervous laugh, “Of course, I didn’t stick around to ask too many questions. But I don’t know where she is now.”
“I may be able to help with that,” a gentle voice offers.
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