We passed a few guards patrolling the floors, but they didn’t pay us much attention. Since we’d managed to get through the main doors and no alarms had gone off, I guessed they figured we were permitted visitors.
Ten minutes of jogging later, we arrived outside a cell on the top floor of the spinning prison. A strange figure was moving around inside, the frosted pane distorting the prisoner. Navan swiped his device across the control panel and pressed one of the flashing buttons that appeared. The frosted glass sheered out until it was entirely transparent.
Jareth Idrax turned in surprise, coming up to the pane of glass. “Have you come to break me out of here, my dear boy?” he asked, without a hint of sarcasm.
Navan glowered at his father. “You can turn to ash in this place, for all I care!” he snapped. “Why did you agree to annul the betrothal contract between me and Seraphina?”
“Why do you care?” Jareth countered, his hopeful expression quickly morphing into a sneer. “You never wanted to marry her. I did you a favor. You should be thanking me, not causing a scene.”
Ronad stepped forward, resting a comforting hand on Navan’s arm. “We thought you’d want to see your son married to a woman like Seraphina, regardless of his actual feelings toward her. Let’s not pretend that love has anything to do with marriage on this planet.”
“Ah, I see you brought the abomination with you,” Jareth remarked sourly. “I suppose you know, more than anyone, how things end when ‘love’—as you call it—gets brought into the equation.”
This time, it was Navan who had to hold Ronad back. “She wouldn’t have died if you hadn’t gotten involved! If you had left us alone, she’d still be alive right now.”
“Yes, but she’d be married to you,” Jareth spat. “I am not certain that is preferable.”
As Ronad lunged for the glass pane, I raised my voice. “We know about your plans with Aurelius. We know the two of you are working together!”
Everyone froze, turning to look at me.
“What did you say?” Jareth hissed.
“I said, we know about you and Aurelius. We know everything.”
He snorted. “You don’t know a thing, Riley. I will not be fooled by your trickery.”
I walked right up to the glass. “No tricks, Jareth. We unlocked your comm device—the one you got so pissed about. I might’ve told you to erase everything on it, so the queen wouldn’t find out the extent of your betrayal, but I read all of it—all of those sweet little poems you and Aurelius sent to each other. Something about twin blades… or was it a snake with two heads?”
He held my gaze through the pane, daring me to look away. I refused, standing my ground, letting him squirm. For once, we held the upper hand. At last, he stepped back, letting out a resentful sigh.
“Fine. Aurelius agreed to get me out of jail and back in Queen Gianne’s favor, in exchange for Seraphina,” he admitted begrudgingly. “He asked me to sign the document, knowing Gianne had forgotten to remove me from her appointed jury. I had no choice.”
I narrowed my eyes at him and reached under my skirt for the gun strapped to my thigh. “Open the door,” I instructed. “You had a choice, Jareth. You just made the wrong one.”
“You’re not going in without me,” Navan said, moving up to the control panel. “If he’s going to die, I want it to be by my hand.”
Ronad shoved Navan, knocking him to one side. “Neither of you is going in there!” he shouted. “Believe me, I have more reason than anyone to want him dead, but those who exact revenge always suffer a worse fate than the ones who receive it. I won’t see that happen to you. Let him rot—let that be his punishment.”
“But he won’t rot,” Navan spat. “He’ll worm his way out of it, same as he always does.”
“Maybe, but he’ll know to keep one eye looking over his shoulder because, if he slips up again, there’ll be no stopping us then,” Ronad assured him.
Navan slammed a fist against the glass. “You haven’t gotten away with this, Father. We will be watching,” he said. “And next time, Ronad might not be here to talk sense into me.”
Jareth chuckled. “I would never have expected you to be the one who saved my neck, Ronad.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a one-time thing,” Ronad replied. “Come on, we should probably get out of this place before those guards wake up.”
I took Navan by the hand and pulled him away from the glass, but it seemed Jareth wasn’t quite done.
“I have to say, Ronad, my daughter always knew what was best for her,” he said with surprising softness. “She knew far better than I did. It was a sixth sense that she had about people. Sometimes, she’d look at me as if she could see right through me, but I never dared ask what she saw.”
Ronad smiled tightly. “I imagine she saw exactly what you see in the mirror.”
With that, he turned and walked down the hallway, brushing past Navan and me. There was nothing in this universe that could patch up the damage between Ronad and Jareth. But hearing Jareth say that made me wonder if maybe, just maybe, he was finally acknowledging the fact that Ronad had loved Naya as much as he had—a tiny step in the right direction, from a man who could never fully make amends.
We’d just reached the holding pen where we’d left the two guards when I saw a weird version of Navan shoot out of a nearby door and hurtle around the bend, heading for the exit. Pools of pink flesh oozed through holes in his body.
“Mort!” I yelled.
The figure staggered to a halt. “Riley?”
“What are you doing here?” I asked, trying really hard not to look at the folds of skin poking through gaps in his disguise, in particularly unfortunate places. Not that his face was much better—the whole thing was slipping and sliding all over the place, with one eyeball down by his cheek and most of his nose creeping toward his jawline.
“And why do you look like me?” Navan barked, his expression horrified.
Mort shook his head, causing his lips to fall off. He caught them and tried to shove them back onto his face, though he missed his mouth by a good four inches. “Can’t talk now. I’ll explain everything in a bit. Right now, we need to get out of here!” he said, the words coming out garbled.
I grabbed him by the wrist, instantly regretting it. “Why are you in such a rush?”
“I’ve been found out, Riley!” he whispered, flapping his lipless mouth. “I need to cash in my side of the deal. I have to escape, ASAP!”
“Why?” I urged.
“The proverbial throat-tearer dung is about to hit the proverbial fan!” he hissed, dragging me toward the prison exit as his flesh oozed over my hand. The others followed, looking appalled. I wasn’t sure Navan would ever want to touch my hand again, after seeing that.
I rolled my eyes. “You need to stop with the vagueness, Mort! What the hell is going on?”
“It’s all about to go down in Northern Vysanthe! Gianne’s ships are poised and ready to strike, and when the retaliation comes, it is NOT going to be pretty!” he explained frantically. “I’m talking fountains of blood, limbs flying everywhere, and ash raining down like a volcano just went off!”
I shook my head, struggling to understand. “That’s not possible, Mort. Gianne announced a ceasefire for the wedding, and Brisha agreed to it. There’s some rule in the ‘big book of war’ that says it’s allowed. They have to abide by the terms of it.”
Mort laughed bitterly. “You think Gianne gives a hoot about what some book says? That stubborn wench does what she likes. She’s always played dirty, and right now she’s up to her creepy little eyeballs in muck. She’s even invited a star guest for the occasion!”
“What do you mean?” I murmured, stealing a glance at the others, who looked just as stunned. Even Navan, who’d spent most of his life in Gianne’s court, seemed shocked at the news that she was planning to break a ceasefire treaty.
“They always say there’s an evil twin, don’t they?” Mort mused.
“Mort!”
/>
He lifted his gooey hands in apology. “She’s unleashing her secret weapon on Goody Two-shoes Brisha.”
“What is it? Can we stop it?” I asked desperately, knowing it would mean the death of countless innocents—not to mention the fact that my friends and Bashrik were still over there.
“Not what. Who.”
I grimaced, about ready to smack him. “Who, then?”
His mouth melted all the way down to his chest, but not before I heard what he said.
“The Titans.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
“The Titans have allied with Gianne?” I asked, the news hitting me like a punch to the gut.
Mort nodded, giving up on his disguise and morphing back into his natural form. “They’ve gathered just outside Vysanthe’s solar system, where they’re waiting for Gianne’s signal.”
“How do you know all of this?”
“Why do you think I was dressed like the bloodsucker?” He grinned. “I was persuading the general to tell me what Gianne was up to. I told him I’d protect innocents like his son, if he gave me some intel. He bought it and told me everything. I mean, I had to get the jump on her, in case she was plotting something exactly like this. His mind is basically soup after she killed his son, but she still comes to him for military advice.”
Navan walked toward the prison exit, cursing loudly. “That unforgivable, Horerczy-sucking daughter of a mangy frostfang!” he shouted, scuffing his boot against the floor. “That ceasefire is supposed to last until sunset tomorrow. She’s really going to break it?”
Mort nodded. “How many more times do I have to say it, grayskin? Is your skull too thick to retain that much information?”
“Don’t test me, Mort—not now!” Navan fired back.
Ronad was surprisingly silent, his face pale. Taking the ID device off Navan, he jogged to the holding pen and swiped the device over the control panel, opening up the door. The guards were still out cold, but they wouldn’t be for long.
“Do you think we can persuade the Titans not to strike?” I suggested halfheartedly. “Maybe we could get in contact with that seller and see if they’ll still drop the item off—we could use it to tempt the Titans. I’m guessing you didn’t have time to rearrange plans with them, Navan?”
He shook his head, looking sheepish. “It slipped my mind. All I could think about was getting here and making my father pay for what he’s done. I completely forgot to send a message to the seller.”
Reluctantly, he took out the black box device and read the screen. By the look on Navan’s face, I doubted it was particularly good news.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s a message from the seller. He says he’s on his way to the rendezvous point. The message was sent about half an hour ago—we’ll never get to the groundskeeper’s hut in time to meet him,” he muttered. “There’s a warning at the bottom… ‘Don’t be late.’”
“Do you think he’ll take the credit amount anyway?” I asked anxiously. It was a hell of a lot, and I knew we might need it to buy our way out of Vysanthe.
Navan shook his head. “The money can only be taken once the exchange has been made. No item, no credits.”
“Can you at least tell the seller that the deal is off, or apologize for the delay?”
He cursed under his breath. “He’ll have already come and gone. It’s too late to call it off.”
Mort flashed Navan a nasty look. “If you end up lowering my rating on the darkstar market, I’ll make you pay for my yearly subscription to The Legless Merman!”
“Hey, I didn’t mean for this to happen!”
“No, you never mean for anything to happen, do you, bloodsucker?”
“Stop it, both of you!” I yelled. They turned to look at me. “We need to face facts here. I highly doubt a suit of armor is going to entice the Titans away from whatever Gianne offered them. We couldn’t buy that kind of leverage in a million years! So, I suggest we get going, because our friends are stuck in the North, and they have no idea what’s coming for them!”
As soon as I’d heard the news, my first thought had been of Angie, Lauren, and Bashrik. They would be enjoying the ceasefire while it lasted, unaware of anything sinister lingering in the distance. Everyone would. Right now, we needed to get to Northern Vysanthe, gather up our friends, then get off this planet, preferably before any giant, war-loving enemies arrived.
If that meant we lost some of Brisha’s favor, then so be it. I wasn’t prepared to stay on Vysanthe while their war heated up. I didn’t agree with Gianne breaking the twenty-four-hour treaty, but that didn’t mean I had to lose anyone I loved. As selfish as it sounded, this wasn’t my war—this was two sisters caught in a squabble that had gotten way out of hand. I couldn’t ignore the impending slew of suffering and devastation the two queens were about to rain down on the innocent Vysanthean civilians, but there was little I could do to stop that now.
I had to focus on what I could control, and that was getting my friends out of the North.
“We should head for the border immediately,” Navan said. “Knowing Gianne, she’ll get the Titans to strike at night, when Brisha least suspects it.”
“Well, unless she wants to see her handiwork in glorious daylight,” Mort chimed in.
“Do you know something we don’t?” Navan narrowed his eyes.
“Nope, just throwing in my opinion, given what I know about Gianne.”
I had a feeling the two of them were going to be at each other’s throats the entire way back to Sarrask’s cottage, and beyond. Mort wanted revenge on Orion for what the rebel leader had done to his friend, so there was no telling when we could drop him off somewhere and continue our travels in peace. Eventually, I supposed they’d wear each other out.
“Is nobody thinking about Brisha here?” Ronad asked suddenly. “We need to tell her what’s going on so she can rally her forces. We’re wasting time.”
Ronad opened the heavy blast door of the prison, and we stepped out into the chilly night air. He threw the ID device into the foyer of the prison before striding over to Kaido’s ship and running up the open gangway. The rest of us followed, a solemn mood descending across the group.
Navan took the controls, flying us back to Sarrask’s cottage. During the journey, Ronad took out the black box device and tried to contact Bashrik, Lauren, and Angie. Just once, he managed to establish a connection with Brisha’s control room, but it was terminated shortly afterward. Nothing seemed to be getting through.
“Maybe if you send nudes, you’ll get her attention. Something coy and tasteful,” Mort suggested unhelpfully. “I can morph into you, if you’d like, make a few things bigger?”
Ronad scowled at him. “Is all of this a joke to you?”
“Listen, Venice Beach, everything is a joke to me. When you look the way I do, it’s the only way to get through life,” he replied brightly.
I sighed. “If you’re going to be with us for a while, Mort, I suggest you rein in the comedy act.”
“That wasn’t part of the deal, princess. If you wanted that, you should’ve put it in the fine print!”
Ignoring Mort, Ronad continued trying to get a transmission through to Brisha’s control room. He sent a few messages, but they bounced straight back, the channel no longer open. I could see the frustration moving across his face, but he wouldn’t be defeated. His hands moved across the controls, his eyes fixed on the screen.
“Has there been any word from the darkstar seller?” I asked Ronad, wanting to distract him.
He shook his head. “Nothing. Transmissions are a bit skewed, so maybe it’s taking longer to come through.”
“I don’t suppose it matters now, anyway,” I murmured.
Mort leaned in. “What naughty little number did you buy, in the end?”
“None of your business.”
“Oh, come on, sweet cheeks, put me out of my misery! What did you buy for the Titans? Was it a Vinubian sea nymph? A pan flute made of Sonoran wi
ndpipes? The preserved middle eye of an ambaka?”
I shot him a warning look. “It was none of those things, Mort. I don’t want to talk about it—it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“I’m guessing this means you don’t need me to sneak around the palace mailroom?”
“Your powers of deduction are blowing my mind,” I said mockingly, leaning against the wall of the ship.
He waggled the skin where eyebrows should have been. “That’s not all I can do to blow your mind.”
“Touch me, and I will push you out of the hatch.”
He was saved from that fate by the ship descending toward Sarrask’s cottage. It landed with a soft bump, and the four of us got out, Mort transforming into a generic coldblood in case any neighbors were watching. I moved to take Navan’s hand as we walked toward the house, where lights glowed in the windows. Somebody was home.
When I pushed open the door, the sight of Kaido and Sarrask welcomed me. They were sitting at the kitchen table, playing a board game I didn’t recognize. It looked like Kaido was winning, judging by the number of chips on his side of the table, but Sarrask was still smiling; he just seemed to be enjoying the game. They turned in surprise as we entered.
“Where have you been?” Kaido asked. “I only gave you the keys to my ship because I thought you were coming straight here. I wouldn’t have, had I known you were going to take a lengthy detour. I need to water my plants. Let us hope you haven’t disturbed their absorption flow!”
I smiled sadly. “There was something we needed to do, Kaido. We’re sorry we kept you from your plants. Did you manage to get Lorela back to the hospital okay?”
“I did, thank you for asking. My brothers were of no assistance, of course. I was forced to take the Shunter—and, you must know, I detest being stuck in a metal tube with people who do not understand the finer details of personal hygiene,” he muttered, pulling a face. “I am glad you are back safe, but you should always ask permission in the future if you plan to go gallivanting off with someone else’s ship. I hope you weren’t doing anything dangerous.”