On the other hand, though, there won’t be many actual threats to Obie’s friends. Even when Chester is invisible, Obie can still sense his presence acutely enough that he wouldn’t be able to do anything sketchy. They’re meeting in a public place, so it’s not like anyone’s houses would be compromised. And above all?—
Another text from Cass pops up.
CASSIUS:Come on, man. We miss you.
That settles it. Decisively, Obie messages Cass back with an affirmative and snaps his book shut. “We’re going out.”
Chester squints up at him. “Out? What do you mean, ‘out’?”
“I mean that we’re getting out of this godforsaken place,” Obie says, pushing himself to his feet and stretching his arms above his head. Trying to convince himself that this isn’t a terrible idea. “My friends are meeting up for pad thai and cachapas, and I’m not one to say no to pad thai and cachapas.”
Chester hesitates. “Smith?—”
Obie cuts in before he can protest. Before last week, he would’ve thought that Chester was purposefully trying to isolate Obie from his friends, but after watching him frantically try—and fail—to rebuild his reputation in the prison since he “killed” Laila, well?—
Now, Obie thinks that Chester is just anxious at baseline. He isn’t sure if Chester is clinically diagnosable with an anxiety disorder—Obie’s board certification in psychiatry is from the 1940s, and theDSMhadn’t even come out yet—but he’s damn sure that therapy would do wonders for Chester. “You have the full day off, Nehemiahis on another job, and—if we’re beingreallyhonest here—no one is going to come looking for you. If it makes you feel better, we can even sign out with the guards instead of rifting straight to the Courtyard. Give you a paper trail if anyone asks questions.”
Chester only wavers briefly before nodding. “Okay, yeah,” he says, sticking a bookmark in his textbook and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “So which, uh, friends are we meeting?”
Obie keeps his tone casual. “Cass, Ez, JJ, Roma, and Desi.”
“Oh.” Chester swallows hard, his eyes flitting away. “How about, um, Sawyer and Naomi?”
Obie really hopes not. He’s cautiously inclined to think that Chester would try to be civil for JJ and Roma, but considering how bitter he and Bryant still sound about their old mentors, he doesn’t want to take any chances. “Cass didn’t mention them, so I don’t think so,” he says, and he ducks his head, forcing Chester to meet his gaze. “Just… keep it clean, okay? Let’s just have a nice meal and not talk about the Sanctum at all.”
Chester’s eyebrows furrow. “It’s kind of hard to have any conversations when I’m soundproofed, Smith. Am I not going to be invisible this time? I mean, I’d kill for some good cachapas, but…”
Truthfully, Obie had been considering the same issue. He’s kept Chester invisible and soundproofed during the past two weeks of bowling league, but that was more of a stopgap measure than anything else—and he doesn’t want his friends to mention any incriminating information if they think Obie is alone.
A glamour would probably be the better option. Obie can just say that Chester is a new tenant or a fellow bowler, and?—
Aw, come on. Can’t you take one for the team?
A slow smile spreads across Obie’s face. That could work, actually. It would give Obie a plausible excuse to bring a glamoured Chesteralong to multiple gatherings, it would make his friends think twice before revealing anything about the conspiracy?—
And it would annoy the hell out of his spellbound idiot. Obie might not want Chester Locke dead as much as he used to, but that doesn’t mean he’s above making Chester’s life more irritating. “Well, I wouldn’t want to deny you your cachapas,” he says, pulling out his phone to send a follow-up text to Cass with an updated guest list. “I’ll glamour you as… someone. I’ll work out the details in my head on the way into town.”
Chester’s eyes light up. “Really?”
Obie nods firmly. “Really.”
“Cool. Thanks, Obie.”
It might just be the first time Obie has ever seen a real smile on Chester. It doesn’t look half-bad on him. Obie clears his throat, gesturing towards the door. “Yeah, sure. Ready to go?”
“Ready,” Chester says, pushing himself to his feet. “Hide yourself.”
“On it,” Obie says, draping the invisibility and soundproofing spells over his shoulders. “Let’s go, puppy.”
Getting out of the Sanctum is simple enough. In fact, Obie has been taken aback by just how easy it is to enter and exit the building. There are guards posted at every door to sign people in and out—a newer development since JJ and Roma defected, apparently—but with some solid glamours, it would be child’s play for Obie and his friends to infiltrate the very heart of the Sanctum.
Maybe this bizarre chapter of his life will have some benefits, after all. The idea gives him a savage sort of pleasure.
It’s only a few minutes before they’re strolling down the path towards Redwater. Once they’re out of eyeshot of the guards, Obie grabs Chester’s arm, dragging him off the trail so they’re hiddenbehind a cluster of trees. “Here. I’ll glamour you now. Fewer civilians to see us.”
Chester looks torn between nervous and curious at the prospect. “Sure,” he says, stretching his arms out wide. “Who am I going to be?”
“Hm…” Obie deliberates briefly before deciding on an appearance reminiscent of a character from a popular film franchise, sliding the glamour into place. “There. That should do it.”
