CHARLES RELUCTANTLY STEPS INSIDE, and is greeted by a dreariness that hangs over him like heavy smoke. it’s not as though the sixth is a pinnacle of shining light, but these quarters are a creepy and distant cry from the open, airy windows in the sixth’s. whatever ambiance the ninth has decided to cultivate, it has a decidedly unpleasant effect. charles won’t visibly shudder, so he does so mentally.
“ if he got lost, he’d have to have good cause to go somewhere without telling me. i would think nothing of it, were it not in this place. and hour is a lot, given what happened to the fifth. ” charles has, if nothing else, faith in this : in the instinct that luke being suddenly nowhere to be found is a sign of something malicious and ancient at work. it is not as though he is always at luke’s side ( never mind the taboo they break when they curl together in bed, the horrible cot at the end of the bed neglected … just as the ninth’s seems to be, he notices ) but in canaan house, closeness has seemed critical to survival. an hour was too long, and charles does not accept gideon’s suggestion to the contrary.
impatient to begin searching, to not let any more seconds pass, charles shifts from foot to foot beside the door. once gideon returns, he’s quick to turn to exit. “ i want to begin at the facility. that seems to be the source of hurt in this place. if you could tell me where nonagesimus is, we could check there first. ”
HE ISN’T WRONG that there are a couple of red flags waving around if this is that unusual for his necromancer.
“ see, vanishing is a much less alarming occurrence with my necromancer. ” gideon says, lacing up her boots. she isn’t worried about harrow, but she would feel a hell of a lot better if she knew exactly where she was. “ maybe we’ll pick her up along the way. ”
she follows charles outside, shutting and locking the door behind them. the trek down the the facility is mostly a quiet one. she’s uncertain how strictly she’s still supposed to be adhering to the ‘vow of silence’ but regardless, this seems not the time to nudge charles with conversation.
wind screams past the chunks of wall crumbled off into the sea below as they climb the spiraling chipped-stone steps. at the trapdoor, she looks to charles with a raise of her brow over the rim of her aviators.
“ you got a key? nonagesimus has mine for safekeeping. ”
