Quiver of Cobras

I managed a weak laugh. ‘No. No snakes. No vipers, no adders, no cobras.’ Because, I added silently, the only real snake around here is you.

  He opened the chest and peered in. The surprise on his face seemed genuine. ‘My pixie dust!’ he exclaimed. ‘You found it.’

  ‘Well, you did demand that I search for it and return it to you.’

  ‘I thought it would occupy you while you decided whose side you were really on. I didn’t actually expect that you would locate it.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Your memory…’

  ‘Still gone,’ I said. ‘Artemesia had a theory about it, though. You know, Carduus’s niece,’ I reminded him.

  ‘I know who she is.’

  I shrugged at the growl in his voice. ‘She reckons that my amnesia is magic-related and that the magic would work to return my memory by leading me to people and objects that would jolt it back into action.’

  His expression cleared and he nodded. ‘Of course. That makes perfect sense. That’s how we were reunited so quickly. We’re meant to work together – the magic demands it.’

  I managed to avoid rolling my eyes. It was Morgan who I’d been drawn to, not Rubus. ‘Mmm.’

  Rubus delved into the box then frowned. ‘What the hell is this?’ he asked, scooping up a handful of dust. Amid the sparkly grey were more than a few specks of dull green.

  I grimaced. ‘Ah. Well, for some reason I left the chest in a small forest. A small, damp forest. I guess it got mouldy.’ Either that or someone had taken a lot of moss and mixed it in so that the entire batch was unusable. I couldn’t think for the life of me who that would have been though…

  Rubus tutted. ‘That’s annoying.’ He looked up. ‘Which forest was this exactly?’

  This was where I was on shaky ground. I’d already decided, dangerous as it was, to stick as close to the truth as possible. I had to do everything I could to make Rubus believe I was on his side – and if that meant taking risks by veering into dangerous honesty, that was what I’d do. It wasn’t lost on me that he’d already pointed out this painful side of my personality tonight. I was still sure I was doing the right thing, though. ‘It was on the outskirts of the city,’ I answered. ‘Nothing nearby, except a golf course of all things.’

  I caught the faintest twitch from his eyelid. Yep, that got his attention. ‘Wait a second,’ he said. ‘Didn’t you tell me that you woke up on a golf course?’

  As if he’d forgotten. I nodded. ‘I did. And yes, it was the same one. I assume that I hid the pixie dust out of fear that it would be stolen or lost before whatever happened happened.’

  ‘And the name of the golf course?’ he enquired. ‘I should a send a team to check it out.’

  He’d find it sooner or later; it was better that I controlled his discovery. I told him its name. I even gave him directions. Rubus appeared satisfied. ‘Excellent,’ he murmured. He closed the chest lid and tucked it under his arm. ‘I should go,’ he said.

  My gaze dropped momentarily to his hand and to the little finger where his gold ring was proudly displayed. I was tempted to find a way to get him to hand it over right now, given that he was pleased with me, but I already had a better idea about how to nab it.

  I waved him off, telling him I was going to have a nightcap. I had to tread carefully; Rubus wasn’t a cardboard cut-out of a villain. In fact, he was far more complex than I’d given him credit for.

  He wasn’t the only one who was complex, though – and I was the murderer amongst us. I nodded to myself. He had no chance. Softly, softly catchee monkey.

  Chapter Twelve

  I was awoken the following morning by Morgan’s gruff tones in my ear. For one pleasant moment before I was fully awake, I assumed he was lying next to me and had some morning wood that required my delicate ministrations. Then I realised it was the daft shell phone.

  ‘How are you?’ he repeated.

  I fumbled groggily under my pillow for the shell and held it up. ‘You’re concerned about me?’ I couldn’t resist adding a hint of sarcasm, given the way he hadn’t been able to meet my eyes the precious night. ‘I’m touched.’

  ‘Of course I’m fucking concerned, Madrona! You went back to Rubus. Have you seen him? Have you tried to get his ring?’

  Ah. So that’s what this was about. I suddenly had the distinct feeling that each of the brothers was using me for the same reason – to get at the other. I could hardly complain, however. Using people was apparently what I did best. I should admire the pair of them rather than feel hurt.

  ‘I’m absolutely fine,’ I told him. ‘And, no, I haven’t tried to get the ring yet. I’m not going to bulldoze in and wrestle it off his finger. He has to believe it’s his idea to remove it or this will never work.’

  ‘I take it you have a plan.’

  ‘Morgan, darling,’ I drawled, ‘I always have a plan.’ I’d had a plan to kill Charrie the Bogle and that had worked. I’d even had a plan to close the borders to Mag Mell, I thought sourly, and that had been far more successful – in a sense, anyway – than I could have hoped for. ‘Just be patient.’

  There was a beat of silence. ‘I’m not trying to hassle you, Maddy,’ Morgan said. ‘I’m just worried.’

  Him and me both. I sighed. Then, hearing the patter of footsteps in the corridor outside, I shook myself. ‘It’s too dangerous to talk now,’ I told him. I bit my lip. ‘Look, I need some willing pixie-dust takers.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  I ignored the dangerous edge to his voice. ‘You heard me. I feel like I’m really close to getting Rubus to believe that I’m on his side and I’m a trustworthy henchwoman. Bringing him some more potential addicts will give me more leeway.’

  ‘You want me to find you some faeries willing to turn themselves into addicts?’ he asked, his disbelief palpable even through the shell’s minor magic.

  From what I recalled of the Fey who’d approached me when they’d thought I was selling, it wouldn’t be too hard. ‘It’s for the greater good,’ I told him. ‘And it’s only a short-term thing.’

  ‘That’s what you say now.’ His voice hardened. ‘I won’t do it. There has to be a line, Madrona, and I’m drawing that line here. I won’t involve innocents in our plans.’

  Except innocents were always going to be in our plans because this was all about saving damned innocents. I couldn’t yell that down the shell at him, though; someone would hear me. ‘Fine,’ I snapped. ‘I’ll find them myself.’

  I stuffed the shell unceremoniously under the mattress. If Morgan continued to talk, I couldn’t hear him.

  I brushed the worst of the now fully dried mud off yesterday’s clothes and reflected that it was just as well I’d chosen leather. It seemed harder to wiggle into the tight trousers today than it had been yesterday but that was good; my arse would look even better than before if the taut material hugged it snugly. I did refrain from doing up the corset too tightly, though. I still had to have a decent breakfast and I didn’t want any extra flesh to pop out unless I planned for it to do so.

  I combed out the worst of the tangles in my hair and hoisted it up into a tight bun. It gave me a stern look, halfway between boarding-school matron and sex-club dominatrix. I couldn’t ask for more. Today I meant business.

  I headed out, stalking towards the kitchen and keeping my head raised to avoid eye contact – and chitter-chatter – with any passing faeries. The smell of cooking bacon hit me long before I hit the kitchen. Excellent: I really was starving.

  Recognising the chef as the bouncer who’d been positioned in front of Rubus’s bedroom the previous day, I walked up and watched as he slid two perfect sunny-side eggs onto the plate next to the cooker. Beans, black pudding, three juicy sausages, crispy bacon and even a potato scone. Yum, yum, yum.

  I picked up the plate and walked over to the table.

  ‘Hey! Thass mine!’ he bellowed.

  I found a knife and fork and dug in. ‘Oh,’ I murmured, swallowing my first mouthful. ‘You should have said.’ I waggled my knife at him
. ‘Next time tell me and I’ll make my own breakfast instead.’ I stretched across the table and pulled the ketchup towards me before liberally dousing the whole plate.

  Rubus strolled in, a lazy smile written across his handsome face. He looked much better than he had the night before, with a healthier colour to his skin. He must have had a good night’s sleep. And why not? It wasn’t as if he’d had to fret over the fact that he was the one who’d consigned us all to this madness.

  ‘That bitch took my breakfast!’ the other faery snarled.

  Rubus raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you seriously complaining to me about something so petty as bacon and eggs, Amellus?’

  The way to an army was through its stomach. Rubus would have to realise that and do more to keep his troops in line, especially once the sphere was destroyed. Not that I cared. ‘Yeah,’ I said with a sneer, ‘are you?’

  Amellus glared at me and turned back to the frying pan to start cooking again. Behind his back, Rubus shook his head at me, unimpressed by my actions. I shovelled as much of the food into my mouth as I could before he decided to take it away from me.

  ‘I thought,’ I said, as I chomped on beans, ‘that I might go out and try to sell some dust today. Carduus still has some, right?’

  ‘Not much,’ Rubus answered. He was watching me with an inscrutable expression. ‘But enough to hook in a few extra clients. Is there anyone you have in mind?’

  ‘When I was running around the city and trying to work out who I was,’ I said, hoping I wouldn’t have to name names, ‘I bumped into a few faeries who asked me for some dust. At the time, I didn’t know what they were talking about. Now I reckon they’d be a good place to start. They can probably lead me to other potential clients.’ I smiled. ‘Clients. That’s a nice word, isn’t it? It’s better than naïve fools, I suppose.’

  Rubus didn’t appear amused. ‘Who are these faeries?’

  Gasbudlikins. I’d have to throw a few Fey under the bus after all. Greater good, I reminded myself. It was easy to see how I’d fallen so deeply into this life before my amnesia incident.

  I shrugged and did my best to look nonchalant. ‘Some faery woman who works at the library. And a guy who runs a hotel.’

  ‘Begonius,’ Rubus said instantly. ‘I thought you probably talked to him since that’s where I found you. And Paeonia, I assume.’

  ‘That might have been their names,’ I said unconvincingly.

  Rubus rubbed his chin. ‘They’ve dabbled in dust before but not enough to become true addicts.’

  ‘Well, maybe I can change that.’ I met his gaze head-on. Trust me. Believe in me.

  He waved a hand. ‘Very well,’ he said, as if it were of no real interest to him. ‘There is another name you might wish to throw into the mix.’

  ‘Who’s that?’ I asked, with a sudden feeling of trepidation.

  ‘A Fey called Vandrake. He used to be one of ours.’ Rubus scowled. ‘Then Morganus got involved. Vandrake’s been off dust for a while but he possessed certain talents which are … useful It would be good to have him back in the fold again.’

  I winced internally. I’d actually met Vandrake – Morgan had taken me to meet him in a bid to educate me about the damages of pixie dust. Vandrake had been terrified of me – and even more petrified of becoming an addict again. I strongly suspected it wouldn’t take much to tip him back over the edge. Was I really callous enough to be the person to achieve that?

  ‘The more the merrier,’ I said to Rubus, hoping my expression didn’t betray my inner turmoil. ‘Where might I find him?’

  ‘Carduus has records of all our … clients. Past and present. When you pick up the pixie dust from him, make sure he gives you Vandrake’s address too.’

  I nodded and returned my attention to my plate. At least my breakfast wasn’t going to make any criminal demands on me, even if it did cause a bout of heartburn later on.

  Rubus ambled over until he was right next to me. It was just as well I’d almost finished eating because I could swear his aftershave was even stronger today than usual. ‘Do this for me, Maddy,’ he said quietly. ‘And I might be more inclined to trust you properly again.’

  Again? From what I’d heard from Artemesia, he’d never really trusted me the first time around and that had been after years of this sort of shit. I sighed. ‘I just can’t stop thinking about what you told me last night. That all this…’ I sneaked a look at the other faery in the room. He appeared absorbed in crisping up his bacon but I couldn’t be too sure he wasn’t earwigging at the same time. I dropped my voice. ‘That all this is my fault.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Rubus said, clapping me on the back. ‘I didn’t tell anyone then and I won’t tell anyone now. Not if you stay in your place.’ He winked at me as if all this were nothing more than a great joke. Ha bloody ha. Then he strode over to the cooker. ‘That bacon looks good,’ he murmured. ‘I’ll have it.’

  I really wanted the Fey to kick up a fuss and complain at losing his second batch of food but he was too eager to please his lord and master. I watched him bob his head eagerly and rolled my eyes, before pushing back my plate and standing up. It appeared I had a mission to complete, as distasteful as it was.

  Drug dealing was just so … dirty. Murdering innocent bogles and sending a thousand Fey into exile were more my kind of business. Apparently.

  ***

  Carduus was in the laboratory when I arrived, wearing a pristine white coat as if he were some kind of vaunted scientist and frowning at a steaming beaker filled with nasty-looking purple gunk.

  ‘Cardy, baby! How’s it hanging?’

  He didn’t even deign to answer me with a glare, so he went up a notch in my estimation. ‘Here,’ he said. ‘Try this.’ He took a spoon and pulled out a gloop of purple and offered it to me.

  ‘Uh, no.’ I smiled sweetly. ‘My mother told me never to accept sweets from strangers.’

  He frowned. ‘You remember your mother? Has your memory returned?’

  I mentally lowered that notch back a level again. ‘I thought scientists were supposed to be smart. You have the IQ of lint.’

  Carduus still looked confused. ‘What’s lint?’

  ‘You spend far too long inside this laboratory, Cardigan,’ I told him.

  He sniffed. ‘That is not my name. And I do whatever my lord requires.’ I could only presume by ‘my lord’ he was referring to Rubus. This place was like a damned cult.

  He jiggled the spoon at me. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘try this. It’s mugwort enhanced with a sprinkle of lavender and essence of anemone and bound up in an old spell. It doesn’t taste as bad as it looks.’

  Somehow I doubted that. I folded my arms defiantly. ‘I’m not putting that inside my mouth.’

  ‘You’ve had worse.’ This time I definitely registered a leer. ‘It’s something I’ve put together myself. It might help your memory to return.’

  ‘You’re going to have to do better than that before I slurp it, mate.’ I patted by belly. ‘Besides, I’ve just had breakfast. I’m really not hungry.’

  Carduus pushed his glasses up his nose in irritation. ‘It’s supposed to be taken on an empty stomach.’

  ‘Well, that is a shame.’ I couldn’t have sounded more flat than a pancake on Shrove Tuesday. ‘Another time.’

  ‘Tomorrow morning,’ he ordered. ‘First thing.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I murmured unconvincingly. ‘Sure.’

  He emptied the contents of the spoon back into the beaker. There was a definite acidic hiss when the gloop landed and I stepped backwards. It seemed prudent to put as much distance as possible between the foul concoction and myself.

  ‘I need some pixie dust,’ I informed him. ‘I’m going to hit the streets and do some selling.’

  He gestured at the shelf. ‘It’s over there. Help yourself.’

  I did as he bade, locating the familiar sparkly grey dust quickly enough. Rubus had been right; there wasn’t much of it. In fact, by the time I found Vandrake I doubted ther
e’d be any left. ‘Do you have a bag?’

  Carduus muttered and pointed behind him. I located a crumpled pile of old plastic bags and selected one at random. As I did so, my eye was caught by three large jars filled with a colourless liquid. I tapped the nearest one. ‘What’s this?’

  He glanced up and his nostrils flared slightly. ‘Nothing that concerns you.’

  I doubted that; his response meant that it was something that concerned me very much. Without asking him for permission, I leaned over, uncorked the nearest jar and took a deep sniff. Huh. It was an oddly familiar smell but I couldn’t place it.

  ‘Get away from that!’ Carduus snapped. ‘It’s not for you! You’ll contaminate it.’

  Curious. I returned the stopper to its original position but he still didn’t relax. I couldn’t risk raising his suspicion when the liquid might be completely innocuous so I smiled at him benignly. ‘Okay-dokey. Before I go, I also need a copy of the file with all the past and present clients. Rubus told me to get it so I know who to target.’

  Carduus insinuated himself between me and the jars, as if he were still afraid that I was going to lunge for one of them and try to escape with it. I almost laughed. All three of them were enormous – I’d be lucky to lift one of them, let alone sprint away and liberate it from his clutches.

  ‘I don’t tend to call them clients,’ he told me.

  ‘What do you call them?’

  He grinned. It wasn’t pleasant. ‘Cannon fodder.’

  ‘Well, you’re just charm personified.’

  He bowed. ‘The list is in the second drawer to the right. Help yourself.’

  I extricated a manila folder and glanced inside. There was a crapload of names. Some had smiley faces scratched next to them, some had question marks. A far smaller number, Vandrake’s included, possessed crosses. I slid it into the bag together with the dust. This would come in useful.

  ‘Thank you.’ It probably paid to be at least slightly polite to the mad scientist.

  He waved me off. ‘Get out of here. I need to concentrate.’ He spat onto the floor, a long stream of green phlegm of a similar consistency to his potion. ‘And don’t forget to come back first thing tomorrow!’