Read Online Flame by Amy Kathleen Ryan - Free Book Online Page A

grip.
    Mather’s office looked different since the last time Waverly was here, more disordered, like a war room. Papers were spread across her desk, and she quickly stacked them on a credenza in the corner. A woman carried in a tray laden with tea, biscuits, and fruit preserves, and nodded when the Pastor thanked her.
    “Have what you like,” Mather said, pouring herself a cup of tea. Waverly noticed that it was black tea instead of the chamomile Mather had always drunk before. Waverly refused any food or drink and sat in the soft chair across the desk from Mather, who sipped at her dainty teacup.
    “Is Sarah Wheeler okay?” Waverly asked. She’d been worried about Sarah ever since she’d been dragged out of the central bunker by Mather’s thugs. “And Randy Ortega?”
    “Sarah … is she the one who caused the scene at the Empyrean reunion?”
    “More like she suffered a breakdown.”
    Mather nodded sadly. “The poor girl has been through too much. She’s being treated for depression now, along with her friend.”
    “With drugs?” Waverly asked. Is that what they’d done to her mother?
    “Gentle ones,” Mather said. “Harmless.”
    “Where are they?”
    “I’ll look into that for you,” Mather said, but the disingenuous look of concern on her face made Waverly think the woman knew very well where Sarah was.
    She wants to keep us separated, Waverly thought angrily.
    “Well. How is your mother?”
    “She’s very … changed,” Waverly said with quiet fury. “I know you’re drugging her somehow. Why haven’t you drugged me?”
    “Drugs? No.” Mather wrinkled her brow thoughtfully. “Your parents staged a hunger strike for a period of weeks before our rendezvous. It’s likely your mother was weakened by it. A period of reduced calories can have an effect on the brain.”
    The assured way Mather told this obvious lie was the final insult. Waverly stared at her, so angry she imagined the liquid coating over her eyes boiling away.
    “Knock, knock,” someone called from the doorway.
    Waverly turned to see the decrepit old man, Dr. Carver, standing there, his hands grasping his cane with what looked like preternatural strength.
    “Hello, Doctor,” Mather said with reserved politeness, though she looked discomfited.
    “This is the famous Waverly Marshall, I presume?” the doctor said, looking Waverly up and down as though he’d never seen her before.
    “Haven’t you two met?” Mather asked with a tilt of her head.
    The doctor hobbled in, leaning heavily on his cane, which was beautifully carved into the shape of two snakes intertwined, one white, one black. He extended a knobby hand. “I’m Dr. Carver,” he said. “Pleased to finally meet you in person.”
    After a brief recovery from her surprise, Waverly shook his hand. “Hello.”
    “I heard you two were meeting this morning, so I dropped by, unable to control my curiosity.” He motioned a hand for Waverly to move to the next chair. His imperious manner demanded immediate compliance, and she found herself obeying. He lowered himself gingerly into her vacated chair. “I’ve heard so much about you, Waverly, I wanted to come and see you for myself.” His eyes twinkled as though he were enjoying a private joke with her.
    “Tea?” Mather asked him with controlled courtesy.
    He shook his head. “My old stomach can’t take more than lemon water these days,” he said. “Thank you.”
    “We were just talking about the hunger strike.”
    “Oh yes,” the man said with a kindly chuckle. “I know you lost some sleep over that one, Pastor!”
    “But we finally resolved it,” Mather said cheerfully. “When they learned we were on a rendezvous course with the Empyrean, they started eating again. Thank goodness.”
    Waverly noticed the way Mather’s gray eyes darted over the frail doctor. She’s afraid of him, Waverly realized.
    “So, Waverly,” Dr. Carver said with a gleeful tap on the handle of his cane. “How are you