Traitors

Following the route I’d taken back then, I halted in front of the narrow doorway. Opening it as quietly as possible, I stepped into the dusty stairwell, closing the door behind me. Treading as carefully as possible, to avoid any unwanted floorboard squeaks, I ascended into the attic space. Dust drifted toward me in great, itchy clouds as my gaze turned toward the ground. Like in the basement, the floor was completely clean, even in a room this dusty. Clearly, it was to hide the footprints of anyone who had come this way.

  I wandered toward the back of the attic, seeking out lines in the wall or furniture that looked out of place. Sure enough, I happened upon another towering wardrobe, identical to the one downstairs, tucked away in the corner. As soon as I opened the door, I saw the telltale lines of a panel in the back and quickly flipped the latch. The panel swung out widely to reveal a staircase spiraling down into darkness.

  Wasting no time, I hurried down the stairs, moving as quietly as possible, though the stairs themselves had been covered in thick cream carpet. I supposed it was for that very reason. I’d just reached the bottom step when I noticed a thin crack of light showing at the bottom of what was, presumably, the alchemy lab’s hidden entrance. The lights were on, and someone was definitely home.

  I paused there a moment longer, trying to listen to the sounds beyond the door, all the while worrying that Jareth would open it and find me crouching there. There was a shuffling sound and a few clinks of glass, followed by the telltale whisper of running water. Jareth was in there, but I had no idea whether he’d noticed that the comm device was missing. His movements sounded casual enough. I imagined he’d be clattering about the place, turning everything over, if he thought someone had stolen his hidden device.

  Even so, I couldn’t exactly knock on the door and hand it back to him. It would have to wait until tomorrow, when Jareth went to work again.

  Defeated for now, I headed back up the spiral staircase, retracing my steps to the bedroom. On the way, I paused beside one of the bathrooms. The edges of the silver box were digging into my spine, reminding me of the risk I’d taken in letting Mort steal it. Then again, it had been worth every anxious thought. We were starting to get a picture of just how many things we were up against, although it felt a little like one of those Russian nesting dolls.

  I snuck inside the bathroom and deposited the silver box in the water tank, knowing it would be safer there than anywhere else in the house. I’d thought about hiding it in the attic or the basement, but I didn’t want anyone to catch me wandering around with it. Besides, nobody ever used this bathroom except Ronad and me. Praying the box would be safe until I could get it back to the lab, I gave the toilet a flush, just for show, and hurried back to the bedroom.

  “That was quick,” Ronad marveled as I entered.

  I shook my head. “He’s in his lab.”

  Ronad’s eyes flew wide with panic. “What if he notices it’s missing?!”

  “I suggest you put your head between your legs and kiss your ass goodbye.”

  “Not funny, Riley. I’m serious!”

  “So am I.” I sighed. “If he finds out, he’ll come looking for us. I say we enjoy one last good night of sleep and try not to get our hopes up.”

  “He’ll kill us, you know?”

  I padded over to my bed and collapsed on the mattress, burrowing under the covers.

  “I know,” I whispered, staring up at the ceiling, feeling tears prick my eyes.

  In the silence of the room, sleep refused to come for me, for one terrible reason. I’d noticed it on the walk back from the alchemy lab, but just thought it was a trick of the light. Now, as I peered down beneath the collar of my t-shirt, I knew it wasn’t a trick. My climpet had stopped flashing, and that meant one of three things had happened—Navan was dead, he had stopped loving me, or someone had removed his climpet.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The following day, I spent most of my time in the kitchen, pacing a hole in the floor. I wanted to be nearby when Mort came back, but it was well into the afternoon and he’d yet to appear. I tried to relax, but since the light in my climpet had gone out, and Mort was the only one who might have some answers, I had to pace to keep myself sane.

  Having heard that I wasn’t sleeping too well, Kaido had brought up a pot of dried herbs and flowers from the garden, a blend of his own creation. I’d just brewed a tea from the mixture and was carrying it over to where Ronad and Sarrask were sitting, each of them engrossed in a book, when Jareth burst into the room.

  “This is all your fault!” he snapped, storming across the room to a cupboard at the far side. He pulled out a wooden box filled with glass vials. He took out one or two, checking the quantities. “She wasn’t like this until you two came here! Now, she’s swallowing poison, she can’t sleep, she won’t eat, she’s losing strength… What have you done to her? Did you say something to her, to make her drink that painkiller tonic? Is that what made her do it?” His eyes narrowed, his knuckles whitening around the glass bottles.

  “She got the tonic from the medicine cabinet,” Ronad replied. “We didn’t say anything to her. She did it all on her own. We were there to stop it, but we didn’t start this.”

  Jareth slammed his hands down on the counter. “She was getting along just fine before you two came here, and now she’s deteriorating by the second! Do you think I’m foolish enough to believe that’s a coincidence?”

  To my surprise, it was Sarrask who spoke. “They’re trying to help, Father,” he said sternly. “Ronad sits beside her every day, feeding her ice chips until the fever eases. And they both helped her vomit up the poison. Without them, and their quick thinking, she’d be dead right now. I was the one who left the medicine cabinet unlocked. Blame me if you need someone to lay this on.”

  “What if it wasn’t painkiller—what if it was something else? Something that they’ve been feeding her?” Jareth seethed.

  “It’s not, Father. It was a simple painkiller tonic, taken from the medicine cabinet in Mother’s room. I checked the contents of the bottle myself.”

  Sarrask had confirmed, shortly after the incident, that the medicine cabinet in his mother’s room wasn’t locked. He’d simply forgotten to turn the key the last time he’d been in there to give her a dose of her medication. Nobody could have known that Lorela would go in search of something to put an end to her illness, once and for all. Even so, I could tell Sarrask felt guilty.

  I could also tell that Jareth was reluctant to give us the benefit of the doubt. “Be that as it may, your presence here agitates her. And it agitates me. You’ve been here long enough. If my sons will not obey my request, even at the risk of your lives, then so be it,” he said. “I won’t have you in my home much longer.”

  With that, he picked up his vials and left the room, stomping up the stairs, the beat of his retreating footsteps jolting through my already-fragile nerves.

  “Always a delight,” Ronad muttered, returning to his book.

  “You okay?” Sarrask asked. My hands were trembling around the cup of herbal tea I held, making it impossible to tell a convincing lie.

  “Oh, you know, fearing for my life… the usual.”

  He smiled sadly. “Do you want to step outside for a minute, get some fresh air? It’ll be fine if I walk with you.”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. I think I’ll just go to my room.”

  Ronad looked up from his book. “You want company?”

  “Not really.”

  It seemed I was pretty popular today, but the only person I wanted to see was Mort. I wanted him to prove himself trustworthy. Well, I really wanted to see Navan, but news of him would have to do. The dead, lightless climpet in my chest felt like a gaping void.

  Taking my cup of tea with me, I headed up to the tower room, sitting by the window so I could see the approach of any unknown ships. There was every chance Mort might not bother coming back, but the optimistic side of me refused to doubt him. I needed him to come back.

  * * *


  An hour or so later, there was a knock at the front door. Knowing it could only be one person, I sprinted out of the bedroom, heading through the hallways to the second-floor bathroom, where I’d hidden the silver box device in the water tank. The bathroom itself was tucked away at the back of a long corridor, away from the main rooms of the house. Ronad had promised to tell Mort to meet me there, out of earshot. I figured I could pretend to run a bath, giving us some privacy to talk alone without someone else walking in. All I had to do was wait until he’d offered his useless medical opinions about Lorela’s condition.

  The bathroom was spacious, with a huge tub in one corner, a walk-in shower on the opposite side, and the usual toilet and sink closest to the door. An opaque black glass barrier rose up around two sides of the shower, blocking the person showering from view. It was here that I hid, sitting down on the stone floor, pressing myself back against the black glass and tucking my knees to my chin.

  I froze as the door creaked open. Footsteps scuffed along the tiles, followed by the clunk of the toilet seat being lifted. Panic bristled through me. I found myself fearful that this person might somehow feel the need to lift the lid of the toilet’s water tank, only to find the silver device inside. A moment later, that fear turned to stifled laughter as a zipper unzipped, and my unsuspecting guest began to pee. I wasn’t sure who’d just walked in, but I knew it couldn’t be Ronad or Mort. That only left three other options—Kaido, Sarrask, or Jareth. Kaido had already told me he only ever used his own bathroom, not wanting to encounter the germs and hygiene habits of other people. By a process of elimination, that left two.

  “Sarrask!” Jareth’s voice yelled from somewhere else in the house, sounding distant.

  “Coming!” the person in the bathroom shouted back, the bellow bouncing off the walls.

  The toilet flushed, and the door opened again. I made a face—Sarrask hadn’t even bothered to wash his hands. Then again, I wasn’t familiar with Vysanthean bathroom habits. Maybe their pee was super sterile, or it wasn’t as big of a deal here.

  Twenty minutes later, all spent freaking out that someone else might wander in, I heard the door open again. Tentative footsteps entered, moving toward the shower cubicle.

  “Riley?” Mort whispered.

  I crept up to the edge of the black glass and peered around to see Mort standing awkwardly in the middle of the bathroom, morphed into the guise of Doctor Ulani. He looked flustered, his eyes darting nervously behind him, to the now-closed doorway.

  “You took your time!” I hissed, slipping past him to bolt the lock. Moving over to the expansive tub, I ran the hot water, and steam began rising.

  “Ooh, you didn’t say this was going to be that kind of conversation,” Mort purred. “You want me to strip down, make sure I’m not wearing a wire?”

  I glared at him. “No, this is to cover the sound of our voices, idiot! Why else would I pick a bathroom?”

  He almost looked disappointed. “I suppose I’m glad you’re not trying to cover our voices with something else.” He tilted his head toward the toilet. “Although, I should warn you, I’m starting to get sweat in my folds from all that steam. If you’re not careful, I’ll have to shake off old Ulani.”

  I shuddered at the thought. “Do you have news for me or not?”

  “As it happens, I do—both kinds. Which do you want first, the good or the bad?” Mort asked brightly, though there was a lingering hint of tension in his voice.

  “Good news first.”

  “Excellent choice. So, I managed to get in contact with your bloodsucker boyfriend. He tells me everyone else is fine, and he’s on his way. He got delayed, but he should be arriving today, in fact.”

  I frowned. As much as I wanted to believe every word of what Mort was saying, it didn’t change the fact that my climpet had stopped flashing. Was Mort just telling me what I wanted to hear so I’d hold up my end of the bargain?

  “You really spoke to him?”

  Mort nodded. “I really did. I was shocked too, but he’s definitely coming.”

  “Today?”

  “Today,” Mort repeated.

  “And the bad news?”

  He grimaced. “He’s not the only one coming here. There’s another visitor due here soon. A way less welcome one.”

  “Who?” A grip of panic tightened in my chest.

  “I was at a palace soirée last night, and I overheard someone saying that Queen Gianne wanted to make a surprise visit to the Idrax house to check in on Lorela. I don’t think she was expecting this sickness to keep Lorela away from her socialite duties for as long as it has, and she wants to make sure everything is legit,” he explained, his tone anxious. “She’s already doubting people who’ve been loyal to her for years, and I think Jareth is next on the list to be tested.”

  “Does Jareth know?”

  Mort shook his head. “She’s keeping it a secret so he can’t hide anything from her. My guess is, she’s using the visit as an excuse to get a tour of his personal alchemy lab. She’s paranoid that Jareth is withholding information, and it’s a pretty open secret that Jareth has his own lab here at the house. Most alchemists do.”

  The irony was almost painful. Jareth was hiding something from the queen, and it was a secret so incendiary that it could threaten the safety of everyone with the Idrax surname and anyone connected with the family. If Gianne discovered the truth, that Jareth was planning to overthrow her with Aurelius, it would be game over.

  “I’m guessing you’ve read the information you took from Jareth’s comm device?” I asked.

  Mort nodded.

  “Did you understand it?”

  “What, that Jareth and some other dude are planning to stage a coup?”

  “That ‘dude’ is Aurelius. Have you met him?”

  Mort looked thoughtful for a moment. “The wormy dude with serious delusions of grandeur, and a fake wing to make up for the one he’s missing?”

  “That’s the one.”

  Mort whistled. “Jareth has terrible taste in leaders. It’s almost as bad as your taste in men.” Seeing my disapproving look, the pleased grin faded from his face. “Anyway, your dashing Navan will be here soon enough. Although, he did have a bit of a mishap involving a landmine.”

  I gasped. “What?! Is he okay?”

  “Look, all you need to know is, he’s fine. Not even a landmine can stop your grayskin brute. More’s the pity,” he muttered. “So I suggest you go and hide, pronto. You need to keep out of harm’s way until he gets here.”

  “Why do I need to hide?”

  “Just do it, Riley! You don’t want to be here when Gianne arrives. Don’t get caught in those crosshairs, because if you do, you’re not getting out alive.”

  I raised my hands in surrender. “Fine, I’ll hide. What are you going to do?”

  He grinned. “Don’t worry about me. Gianne is still my best bud; I’m nowhere near the top of her list.”

  “Can’t you get in touch with Navan and warn him not to come?”

  Mort sighed apologetically. “No can do. His transmission cut out just as we were finishing up our chat. I tried calling back, but the signal was down.”

  “Then how do you know he’s okay?”

  “Because he told me he was fine. He said his transmission might cut out because Gianne had satellites whizzing around the plateau, listening for defectors and traitors,” he explained. “I imagine he cut off the signal to stop her from eavesdropping.”

  Feeling troubled, I turned off the taps and walked Mort to the door. He was visibly sweating, with sections of his true form poking through the façade of Doctor Ulani. I grimaced at the unpleasant sight of his flesh pooling through holes in his disguise.

  “I suggest you fix your coldbloodness before you leave.”

  He glanced down at a melting patch on his arm and let out a weary sigh. “Being a shifter is so exhausting sometimes. It would be nice to just kick off my fake skin and chill out for a while, you know?”

  ??
?I have no idea.”

  “Well, enjoy your bath. Pity I can’t stick around and join you.” He waggled his slipping eyebrows.

  I yanked open the bathroom door and peered out into the corridor beyond, checking that the coast was clear. “I’m not actually having a bath, Mort. According to you, I need to go and hide.”

  With him flashing me a filthy grin, and readjusting the camouflage of his coldblood form, he set off down the hallway without me, leaving me to my imminent panic attack. I waited for a few minutes on the threshold of the bathroom, steeling myself for what was to come. If Gianne was on her way, and Navan was, too, then there was nothing I could do to stop them from arriving at the same time. If they did, all hell would break loose, and I had no way of warning Navan about what he might be walking into.

  With terror bristling through my nerves, I fished out the silver box device that I’d wedged at the top of the tank and tucked it in my waistband, before darting out of the bathroom and heading downstairs to the kitchen to retrieve Ronad. We needed to find a place to hide, and fast. He knew the house better than I did; there had to be somewhere we could go, where nobody would find us.

  Sarrask was nowhere to be seen as I stepped into the kitchen. It was just Ronad, alone at the island, still reading the book he’d been buried in earlier. He looked up as I approached, his face morphing into a mask of worry as I got closer.

  “We need to go, now!” I whispered to Ronad, grasping him by the arm and pulling him toward the kitchen door.

  “What? Why?”

  “Gianne is coming, and Navan is coming, and we need to be well out of sight before that happens!”

  We’d just stepped into the entrance hall when Jareth appeared at the top of the stairs. He was imposing at the best of times, but right now he looked terrifying. His eyes burned with rage, his muscles tensed. For a moment, I wasn’t sure he was going to move, but then he tore down the staircase toward me, reaching us before I had a chance to get out of the way. He seized me by the front of my t-shirt, pulling me in until he was nose to nose with me.