Plague Saint

Chapter Eleven: Council

As Winter expected, Phoebe and River got along great, and River was eager to have something to do. Hopefully it would be enough to keep him distracted. His cough was still too strong for Winter's liking, and she suspected he'd be stuck in bed for longer than she'd initially thought.

Meanwhile, Winter spent as much time as she could spare on Saturday searching for the notebook she'd left in the secret lab. By noon on Sunday, she had to face the fact that despite her desperate hopes, she hadn't misplaced it. Someone had come into the lab and stolen it. Not only was there another way in, but there was someone else out there who knew about it.

The question was whether they were a friend of the Plague Saint, or an enemy.

Her search for another hidden passage yielded nothing. Wherever it was, it was far better hidden than the entrance from the first lab.

Finally, she was forced to quit for the night. She had the general assembly meeting at the church the next day, and she still had no idea what it was going to entail. And before she left, she had one last thing to do.

Winter made a new serum, but instead of combining every plague, she left out yellow and green. She didn't plan to use it, but knowing she had the option made her feel more secure.

She made the trek to St. Andrew's alone, for the first time in her life. She'd never expected she'd come here without her parents dragging her along, but she'd also never expected to become a murderer.

The lights were on in the chapel, casting a warm glow across the snow. Winter paused in front of a window to study her faint reflection. She was the Plague Saint, she reminded herself. She had nothing to fear. These people needed her. They thought she was on their side.

The chapel was full of people dressed in the nicest suits you could find in Devil's Pass, with the occasional dress here or there. Winter stood out, but she'd expected that.

"Plague Saint!" Mayor Atherton noticed her as soon as she entered—most people did—and made his way to her. "Follow me, there's a spot for you at my table."

As they walked, Winter glimpsed a familiar face: the man who'd been standing outside River's hospital room.

Did she dare ask?

"Mayor," she said, hating the way the word slid off her tongue. She nodded to the man. "Who's that?"

"Oh, George Gordon. He runs one of the city's largest factories. Mostly food packaging."

River's supervisor. That explained it.

"He'll be joining us, actually, once he's finished discussing trade with those diplomats from south of the pass." Atherton stopped in front of a table and gestured to an empty chair.

There was another familiar face at the table. As Winter sat down, she studied the woman in the lavender pantsuit across from her, trying to place her.

Atherton introduced her. "The city's financial advisor, Ellen Bates."

Winter had seen her speaking to the mayor at church. She nodded. "Pleasure to meet you."

At her right was a man Atherton introduced as Jonathan Forrest. Winter knew the name. He was responsible for designing the trolley system in the pass decades earlier, a welcome upgrade from the old vehicles that had been used to bus people around, if they could afford it. Rumor had it the money the city had paid him in exchange was exorbitant.

He also had a reputation for being a charming and funny guy, and pretty much everyone in the city admired him. If they hadn't met him, they'd read interviews with him in the paper, where his strong persona came across easily.