Raelia

  “That’s unnecessary, Quinn. Ally is no intruder,” Sir Oswald said.

  “All the same, sir, for your guests’ piece of mind, I ask you to permit me to check,” the guard insisted.

  “Be quick about it, then,” Sir Oswald said, clearly unimpressed.

  “Your identification tag please, Miss,” the guard said to Alex, holding out his hand.

  “Of course,” she said, brushing her hand along her side and frowning in mock-confusion. “I had it pinned to my dress right here. It was there just before… when—Oh! I must have left it in the bathroom. I took it off when I went to powder my nose.”

  Alex held out the compact container of makeup that remained grasped in her hand as if to verify her words. At least she hadn’t dropped it in her fall down the stairs.

  “Miss, you’ll have to come with me,” the guard said in a no-nonsense tone.

  “Come now, Quinn,” Sir Oswald said. “I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding. Why don’t we both escort Ally back to the bathroom so she can retrieve her ID and ease your fears.”

  “Sir, I’d prefer it if you would remain here with your guests,” the guard said.

  “Fortunately for me, I don’t take orders from you,” Sir Oswald replied firmly.

  “Your guest of honour will be arriving shortly,” the guard said.

  “And if you cease stalling, then we’ll all be back in time to greet him,” Sir Oswald returned. “Now, lead the way, Quinn.”

  Quinn must have realised he wasn’t going to separate Alex from the party’s host, so he abruptly turned and led the way up the staircase. When they reached the top and began along the hallway, Alex had to quickly modify her original plan. Sir Oswald was exactly where she wanted him to be but she hadn’t counted on an armed escort. She just had to hope Skyla was in position and not still reading stories to Benjamin.

  When Quinn opened the door and stepped into the bathroom, Alex felt some of the tension leave her body at the sight of the pillow resting on the bench beside the powder brush she’d left there. Skyla was ready and waiting, which meant that their plan just might work.

  “It’s over there,” Alex said, pointing to the bench.

  Quinn asked Sir Oswald to remain in the doorway and the host grudgingly agreed, ordering the guard to hurry up.

  Alex stepped over to the bench. Her armed escort remained a few feet behind her, but she needed him to be closer.

  “Oh, look, I left my powder brush here, too,” she said. “Silly me.”

  She giggled as if it was the funniest thing in the world as she reached for the pillow.

  “I see the brush, Miss,” Quinn said. “But I don’t see your ID.”

  “It’s right here,” Alex said, gesturing for him to step closer.

  He looked at her with narrowed eyes and raised his Stabiliser, edging forward.

  Alex’s heart thudded in her chest and she prayed that the relaxant would be as fast-acting as it had been with Pip. She stepped towards the guard and deliberately staggered sideways, collapsing onto the ground at his feet.

  “Ally?” Sir Oswald called from where he stood at the doorway to the bathroom. He made to move towards her but the guard held up a warning hand, so Sir Oswald remained where he was but in an irritated voice, he ordered, “Quinn, help her.”

  “Miss?” the guard said cautiously, kneeling down in front of her.

  “I guess I’m still a bit dizzy,” Alex admitted sheepishly. “These heels aren’t helping, either. Would you please help me up?”

  Quinn hesitated for a moment before he lowered his Stabiliser and reached for Alex with his free hand. She latched on and yanked him closer, causing him to overbalance and stumble forward. It was the perfect position for her to shove the pillow into his startled face.

  “What—”

  His eyes glazed over before he could manage a second muffled word, but she kept the pillow pressed against his face for a few more moments to be sure he was mentally out of it.

  “Ally, what are you—”

  Alex didn’t pause to think as she grabbed Quinn’s fallen Stabiliser and aimed it at Sir Oswald, pulling the trigger. A blast of light hit him in the chest and he crumpled to the floor where, if Kaiden was right, he would remain unconscious for the next ten minutes.

  She stared in shock at what she’d done, but she didn’t have the chance to feel guilty because Quinn chose that moment to collapse on top of her. The increased contact with the relaxant had not just sedated him, it seemed to have knocked him unconscious. Alex grunted with the strain of his weight and slid him off her and onto the floor. She then stood and moved over to the doorway to drag Sir Oswald into the bathroom so that he lay beside his guard.

  “Skyla? Are you in here?” Alex called.

  The door to the toilet opened and a white-faced Skyla stumbled out.

  “Do you know how many bathrooms there are on this floor?” she asked hysterically. “Five. Five bathrooms! It’s a good thing no one picked up your powder brush, because otherwise I never would have known where to meet you!”

  “You did great, Skyla,” Alex said. “But we have to hurry before they wake up or someone comes looking for them. We don’t have much time.”

  “All right, all right,” Skyla huffed. “You get his clothes.”

  Alex grimaced as she removed Sir Oswald’s jacket, tie, vest, dress shirt, trousers and shoes. She left him in his underclothes, but she still felt uncomfortable at having to undress him at all.

  “Here.” She handed the clothes to Skyla who transformed so quickly that Alex blinked and said, “Whoa. That was fast.”

  Standing in front of her was a perfect replica of Sir Oswald, only he was wearing a pale yellow evening gown that was almost bursting at the seams.

  “Some people are easier to imitate than others,” Skyla said, her voice an exact copy of Sir Oswald’s.

  “That’s disturbing,” Alex mumbled and she turned her back so Skyla could change into the man’s clothing.

  “I’m ready,” Skyla said when she was done.

  “I’m not sure about Quinn,” Alex said, sliding the Stabiliser under Skyla’s jacket so that it was hidden from sight, “but we don’t have much time before Sir Oswald wakes up, so we have to move.”

  Neither of them knew where they should go but they figured downwards was the best direction, so they descended a stairway at the opposite end of the hallway, which took them to the ground floor of the mansion.

  “What now?” Skyla asked.

  “Now you need to ask for assistance.”

  Alex explained what she had in mind, and once she was sure Skyla understood her plan, she latched onto the arm of ‘Sir Oswald’ and started fake-giggling. Skyla led them to the entry of the mansion where they caught the attention of the guards standing outside by the doors.

  “You, there,” Skyla called, and both guards stepped back into the building with alert expressions.

  “Sir Oswald?” said the guard on the left. “Is there something you need?”

  “This lovely young woman desires to see the juggler perform an act,” Skyla told him, her much deeper voice slurring deliberately. “I’ve had a wee bit too much to drink and I’m afraid I’m a little unsteady on my feet. Will one of you escort us to see my prisoner?”

  The guards looked at each other before turning back to their employer.

  “Sir, you’ve ordered that he receive no visitors,” the same guard said.

  “Well, I’m un-ordering it,” Skyla snapped. “Now, take us there at once before my other guests wish to see the juggler as well. We’re sneaking away as it is.”

  “As you wish, Sir Oswald.”

  The guard stepped away from his companion and led the way down the corridor.

  He stopped to open a door, motioning for them to go through first. The door opened to a staircase that took them underground. At the bottom of the stairs they followed a corridor until they reached yet another door, this one guarded by two beefy-looking men.

  “Ker
way, Stibbins,” their escort greeted the other guards. “Sir Oswald and his lady friend want to see a performance from the juggler. Let us through.”

  The men looked curiously at the trio before the one on the left pressed his ID tag against the touch-screen sensor on the door, unlocking the seal.

  “If you’ll follow me, Sir Oswald,” their escort said, and he led Skyla and Alex into a stone corridor lined with cells, the door sealing shut behind them.

  “Ooooh, what a pretty dungeon,” Alex squealed girlishly, while secretly wondering what kind of person had a stone prison underneath their home to begin with. “Sir Oswald, this place is simply charming.”

  “It is?” Skyla sounded as weirded out as Alex felt, but when Alex pinched her, she quickly corrected, “I mean, of course it is. I own the best dungeon in all of Medora. In fact—”

  Alex squeezed Skyla’s arm and the other girl got the message to stop rambling.

  Their guard led them to the very end of the corridor and Alex had to force herself not to react when she saw her classmates gaping at her through a set of bars. Both she and Skyla had to remain in character for their ruse to work, so she barely spared them a glance before she turned to look at the lone man lying on a pallet in the next cell.

  “You, juggler,” the guard called. “Sir Oswald wishes to see you perform.”

  The man didn’t move from his position. “Sir Oswald can bite my—”

  “Are you sure this is necessary, sir?” the guard asked Skyla, interrupting the performer’s gruff—and rude—response. “Perhaps your young lady would prefer a stroll in the gardens rather than watching this crass man’s pathetic attempts to throw a few balls into the air.”

  “Pathetic?” the performer repeated, sitting up angrily. He was scruffy looking, which was probably a result of his recent incarceration, and he had a black patch of material covering one eye. “Who’re you calling pathetic?”

  “I don’t want to visit the gardens,” Alex said to the guard in a whiney voice. “Those animal hedges give me nightmares. What I want to see is this man juggling.”

  “You heard my guest,” Skyla said. “She wants to see him perform.”

  The guard looked like he wanted to argue, but when Skyla added a firm, “Now,” he relented.

  “On your feet, Graver,” the guard ordered the man in the cell.

  The performer remained in place. “Who’s gonna make me?”

  The guard wasn’t impressed. “You’ll do as you’re told.”

  The performer smirked and lay back on his pallet, his hands casually resting beneath his head. “I don’t feel like following your orders right now. But thanks for the offer, mate.”

  The security guard actually growled as he yanked out his ID tag and pressed it to the panel at the entrance to the cell. The lock clicked and he yanked the door open to storm right up to the performer.

  “On. Your. Feet,” he spat, hauling the man up from where he lay.

  “Now, that’s not a very nice way to treat your houseguest,” the juggler mocked.

  The guard didn’t miss a beat. “I won’t ask again,” he said in a voice heavy with menace.

  Alex had seen enough. They were exactly where they needed to be with the cell now open, so it was time for her to act. She drew the stolen weapon from Skyla’s jacket and aimed it at the guard, telling herself that, like the real Sir Oswald, he’d only be unconscious for ten minutes. It wasn’t like she was going to kill him—just stun him. He’d be fine.

  On that thought, she pulled the trigger. Light flew from the weapon and the guard fell to the ground.

  The juggler’s visible eye widened and she gave him a comforting smile.

  “Hey, I’m Alex,” she said. “Hunter sent us to get you out of here.”

  He appeared both surprised and sceptical. “Us?”

  Alex motioned to Skyla and then pointed to her stunned classmates who were staring at her from their cell. “Us,” she repeated.

  “There’s nothing like a good prison break,” he said, his stoic features transforming into a beaming smile. “I’m Samson Graver, by the way.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Alex said, aware of how ridiculous their situation was. “As much as I’d like to swap life stories, we really need to get moving.”

  “Agreed,” Samson said, and he pointed to Skyla. “Want me to get rid of him or can you handle it?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Skyla asked, crossing her arms with a pout. The petulant gesture looked decidedly odd from Sir Oswald’s body.

  “Uh, she—he’s not a problem,” Alex told Samson. “He’s not who you think he is.”

  Samson seemed unconvinced. “If you say so.”

  “We’ll explain everything once we’re safe,” Alex said. She ran her eyes over the performer, noting that he appeared to be standing all right, but she didn’t know what might have happened to him in the few days he’d been imprisoned. “Are you hurt or anything? Can you walk?”

  He seemed puzzled, but then his expression cleared with understanding and he sent her a reassuring look. “I’m fine, love. They didn’t do anything except bore me to death.”

  “Good to know,” Alex said. She reached down and retrieved the security guard’s ID tag before leading the way out of the cell and over to her classmates. She could see their mouths moving as they tried to talk to her, but no sound came out of the cell they were in. The moment she touched the ID to the panel the door unlocked, and whatever was keeping the cell soundproofed disappeared. Alex was inundated with so many exclamations that she glanced back up the corridor in concern, hoping the other guards wouldn’t hear the disturbance.

  “Quiet!” Alex hissed at them as they made their way out of the cell. “We’re supposed to be stealthy, remember? Jeez.”

  Immediately they all shut up.

  “Alex, what are you doing here?” Jordan asked, his disbelief obvious. “And why are you with him?”

  He pointed at ‘Sir Oswald’ and Alex motioned for Skyla to join them.

  “Hey, guys,” Skyla said with a wave. “It’s me.”

  They looked at her blankly, clearly wondering if Alex had managed to drug the host of the party.

  “I told you we’d look after you if something went wrong,” Skyla continued, oblivious to their confusion. “We totally have your backs.”

  “Skyla?” Pipsqueak gasped.

  “Yeah?” Skyla answered. When Pip didn’t say anything further, she added, “I don’t have all day, Pipsqueak. What do you want?”

  “Uh… nothing,” Pip said, her eyes wide. “Just… good job.”

  “We’re not out of this yet,” Alex told them, and she turned to Samson who was watching their interaction with unveiled curiosity. “Our instructions are to retrieve you and escort you back to your home. If we can get out of the building, can you lead us to your place?”

  “That’s a little more complicated than it sounds, love,” he said. “I’m not exactly a local.”

  “You don’t live in the village?” Kaiden asked.

  “No,” Samson said, eyeing him warily. “But if we can get to my juggling bag, I have a secret stash of Bubblers that will get us all out of here.”

  “Where is it?” Alex asked, already knowing she wouldn’t like the answer.

  “My best guess? Hopefully near the side of the stage upstairs, hidden in the corner behind the fake pot plant. That’s where I left it.”

  Great. Just perfect.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do,” Alex said, taking charge. “Skyla and I are the only ones who can be seen walking around upstairs, so we need to get the rest of you outside. There are two guards stationed at the door to the dungeon, and one left at the entrance to the mansion. If we can get you past them, then you’ll be outside and you can make a run for it up the hill. Skyla and I will meet you there after we grab Samson’s bag.”

  “But Alex, you said I wouldn’t have to do anything else once we found the others,” Skyla whined. “I want to be me again. It’
s tiring holding this man’s shape.”

  Alex looked at her with alarm. “How much longer can you stay as Sir Oswald? He’ll be waking up any minute but he’ll still need to find some clothes, so we should have just long enough to reach Samson’s bag and get out of here. Can you handle that?”

  “I don’t know,” Skyla said. “But I don’t want to stay like him anymore. I want to go with the others. I don’t like it here.”

  Alex tried to rein in her frustration. It wasn’t Skyla’s fault they were stuck in such a dangerous situation, but Alex wished the other girl would be a little more willing to help.

  “Fine,” she agreed, anxious to get moving. “Skyla, you go with the others. I’ll find Samson’s bag and meet you all back where we started.”

  “You’re not going on your own,” Jordan told her sternly.

  “Apparently I am,” she replied, with just as much attitude. “None of you can be seen.”

  “I won’t be seen,” Jordan said pointedly. “And I’m coming with you, so don’t argue.”

  She frowned at him, but if he was adamant about going with her, then she might as well take advantage of it. “Can you use your gift on me, too? That’ll hopefully speed things along.”

  He nodded, relieved by her easy acceptance.

  “Here, take these,” Samson said, handing over three juggling balls. “If you need to make a quick escape, throw them as hard as you can at the ground, and run like there’s a fire-breathing draekon on your tail.”

  Wondering what the heck a draekon was but deciding now was not the time to ask, Alex took the balls and handed them to Jordan for safekeeping before she turned back to the performer. “Why didn’t you use whatever these are when you were captured?”

  “You have the element of surprise,” he said. “I was ambushed in the middle of a performance. I didn’t have the chance to activate them.”

  “I heard you spilled wine all over Sir Oswald,” Declan said. “Wasn’t that enough of a distraction to use whatever is in those juggling balls?”

  “Technicalities,” Samson said gruffly. “Are we going?”

  “We’ll head out first and clear the way,” Jordan told the others. “Give us a minute to take down the guards before you follow.”