Beyond Your Touch (15 page)

“Are there really that few women?” I asked Chase.

“Yeah, a major shortage.” A smile flittered across his lips and his voice lowered as if he were sharing a secret. “Malphic's most revered title is First Husband of Sovereign Mistress Vephra. He's one of three men in Blackspire with full-blooded companions. It's one of the reasons harems of human women exist.”

I shook my head in amazement. “It makes sense then why Lotli would be protected.” I bit my tongue to keep the rest of my thoughts inside, but then changed my mind and said it anyway. “I mean, look what almost happened last night and that was in this world, where there are plenty of women.”

“Good point,” Selena said. She tapped her finger against her lip. “Maybe we can trust the Professor not to tell Kate.”

I caught her drift and nodded. “He would make a good eunuch.”

“No. We need to stick to the original plan. Lotli and me. It'll work,” Chase insisted.

“Or Tibbs,” Selena suggested.

Chase scowled. “He needs to be here, especially if I'm gone.”

As they debated Tibbs's candidacy, I rubbed a chill from my arms. “
No,
” I'd said to Grandmother. The smell of roses. The glint of moonstone and a knife's blade as Malphic wrapped himself around Mother, him turning into a whirling tornado of shadows. Then just darkness, and Mother was gone
. All because of you. Liar
. There was an answer to who should go, one that made perfect sense. The one responsible for so much of what had happened.

When they quit arguing for a moment, I jumped in. “Chase, last night at the bonfire, you said something about headscarves, the salt, genies covering their faces to stay powerful?”

“What difference does that make?” He rested back on his heels, his eyebrows drawn in like he suspected I was up to something.

I lowered my gaze to his chest. “I'm guessing eunuchs don't waltz around the realm in jeans and T-shirts?”

“They wear robes, like monks.” His voice hesitated. “Why?”

“With hoods?”

In one stride he had me by the shoulders. “Annie, I know where you're going with this. No way in hell is it happening.”

I met his glare. “My dad was supposed to be going.” I glanced at Selena. “My side of the family needs to do their share for a change. Hell, your dad was already almost killed in an attempt to save my mother.”

“It's a horrible idea,” Chase growled.

Selena gave me a pained look. “Sorry, Annie, but I agree with Chase.”

I lifted my chin. “This is about saving my mother. If anyone should go, it should be me.”

“Excuse me,” Lotli said, her voice so hushed it drew everyone's attention. “Since we are one of the people going, we think we should have a say in this.”

Chase gave a crisp nod. “Of course. I'm sure you see the sense in sticking with the original plan.”

“We think we should adhere as close as possible to djinn traditions. Annie has my vote. We need a third person.”

Startled, I did a double take. Lotli had taken my side, I couldn't believe it.

Chase turned his back on us. “I don't like this. Not. One. Bit.”

I went to him, resting my hand on his arm. “Maybe I can't open the veil with music or fight like a Roman gladiator. But I've held my own against a genie before—and did a damn good job, if I say so myself. I'm tall enough that I could be mistaken for a small guy.” I gave his bicep a playful punch. “Now, tell me, what color are these eunuch robes?”

CHAPTER 15

 

—Malphic, Warlord of Blackspire

 

 

T
he morning had turned stormy. I ducked my chin against my chest and pulled my cardigan closed as I dashed out of the house and to the garage for our strategy meeting, rain pinging the ground all around me.

Chase opened the door to let me into the garage.

“Sorry I'm late. I lay down for a nap and overslept,” I said. Actually I'd fallen asleep while taking a bath, a convenient but unintentional bit of multitasking.

He squashed his lips into a hard line and glowered down at me. “I was hoping you wouldn't show up.”

I locked my gaze with his, intent on snapping something back. But the worry shadowing his eyes melted my anger and resolve. I cleared my throat. “Are Selena and Tibbs here yet?”

“Selena's not, but”—he tipped his head toward where Tibbs was retreating from the backseat of the Mercedes with a bucket and rag in his hands—“my guess is that Tibbs owes you for something?”

I dashed to the car. “Oh my God. Thank you so much. But you didn't have to do that. I was going to.”

“I'm just glad I have a lousy sense of smell.” Tibbs set the bucket down and pushed the brim of his cap back with his forearm. “Chase says Lotli's doing better?”

“Thankfully. She told Kate that she drank too much at the bonfire and needs to sleep it off,” I said.

I was also thankful I hadn't mentioned my suspicion about Myles's involvement. My nap in the bathtub had done a lot to clear my mind. There was no doubt I'd seen him adjusting his pants like he'd gone to the bathroom and swaggering away from the garage. But I was less certain, in fact pretty much convinced he hadn't been the chunky guy who'd taken off in the black car. Considering how I'd put down Newt in front of everyone at the bonfire, if I'd accused Myles it would have looked like I was taking another backhanded stab at Newt, this time by way of accusing his creepy brother of something he in all likelihood wasn't guilty of.

The garage's side door opened and Selena flounced in, raindrops rolling off her raspberry-pink rain slicker. “Hope you guys didn't start without me. There's something we need to do first, like right away.”

Chase squinted at her suspiciously. “Like what?”

“Since we've decided who's going, we need to make a trip to the armory and swipe the disguises while Lotli's not around. I'm all for going to the realm on the sly, but I'm totally against her knowing or seeing anything more than is absolutely necessary, like the tunnels or the secret rooms.”

“Sounds smart to me,” Tibbs said. “But I can't do anything until later. Mom's expecting me to help her in the kitchen.”

“I think it's a great idea.” Chase rubbed his bicep for a second, his gaze settling on Selena and me. “But before we do anything, I need to clear the air about something else. Right after we found Lotli and brought her here, I spoke with your grandfather on the phone. He asked me to tell her about my past, to prepare her for the mission before they returned from Slovenia. I wouldn't have told her anything if he hadn't asked me to.”

I waved my hand like his confession was no big deal. “I figured as much,” I said. But my insides tingled with happiness, glad to know someone else, not Lotli alone, had made him open up. Still, that didn't take away the fact that he and Lotli had plotted to leave for the realm without anyone knowing.

“Speaking of secrets.” Tibbs nodded toward the office. “What do you think, Chase? It is the easiest way to get to the armory unseen.”

He shrugged. “I don't see why not. It's not like the lock is coded to keep them out. They just don't know about it yet.”

“What are you two talking about?” Selena said.

Chase led the way between the cars and into Tibbs's windowless office. It wasn't much of a room: A mechanic's jumpsuit hung next to the door, an old computer desk, a workbench with a few tools, rubber boots, some fishing poles, and a calendar showcasing hunting dogs.

He stopped in front of the pegboard, where the ATV and car keys hung, licked his forefinger, and rested it against the board's top left-hand corner. “This particular lock requires both a fingerprint and matching saliva.” He pressed down and part of the pegboard swung away from the wall, revealing that it was in fact a door.

“I can't believe I never noticed that.” Selena peered into the darkness beyond the doorway. “How stinking long has it been here? Like, forever?”

“Something like that.” Tibbs motioned for us to go inside.

Floodlights snapped on, blazing down all around us, as bright as interrogation lamps. I blinked against the blinding whiteness and then the room came into focus.

It was the size of a big walk-in closet. Racks of guns and boxes of ammunition covered every wall . . . binoculars, game cameras, helmets, bulletproof vests. Camouflage rifles with huge scopes, handguns of all sizes, grenades, weird, lethal-looking thingamabobs. Above our heads hung giant gillie suits and netting.

“Holy arsenals.” Selena gasped. “I suspected you guys kept weapons somewhere other than in the armory, but this is—really great!”

“Yeah, amazing,” I said, tucking my hands in my pockets. There were enough weapons to supply an entire platoon, which made me wonder if that was exactly what they had in mind.

Chase stroked the curve of a crossbow. “We haven't had to use most of it, other than for practice. But if something ever happens, your grandfather thought there should be easy access to weapons, both from inside and outside the main house.”

I scanned the room again. “I knew you were good with knives, swords, fighting. I just—I didn't think about modern weapons.”

“They aren't my favorite,” Chase said, jerking his head at Tibbs. “That beanpole can outshoot me any day of the week.”

Selena stuck out her bottom lip, giving Tibbs one of her patented pouts. “How come you've never taken me shooting?”

His eyes widened. “I didn't think you'd want to. But we can. I'd like to.”

Moving away from the crossbow, Chase started toward the back of the room. “I hate to break up the party, but we have things to do.”

“I've got to head out anyway,” Tibbs said. “If I pull a no-show, Mom'll know something's up.”

As he left, Selena took off her rain slicker and hung it next to a pair of camo overalls, then we followed Chase to a full-length mirror. Though I'd gone through Moonhill's mirror-doorways before and seen other people do it as well, it gave me goose bumps to watch Selena walk through and vanish. Next came my turn. I fogged the mirror with my breath and then stepped into it sideways. The sensation of super-cooled, burbling Jell-O surrounded me, evaporating as I stepped out of what on this side appeared to be an obsidian-framed mirror and into a medieval-looking corridor.

Selena waited, hugging herself as if chilled, her hair shifting from tones of pale blond to amber under the light of the glowing crystals that served as torches. “I recognize where we are,” she said. “The armory's right around the corner. When we get there, the first thing I'm going to do is swipe a robe, a warm velvety one. Man, it's cold down here.”

There was a burbling sound from the mirror and Chase appeared. He glanced at me. “I forgot to ask if you brought your signet ring. There are a lot of cabinets we can't get into without it.”

I patted my shirt, indicating where it hung against my chest. “I figured we might need it. But honestly, I was thinking it would be when we went to the treasury to swipe the lamp.”

“The lamp's probably still in the research room,” Chase said. “I'll grab it tomorrow at breakfast time.”

The entry room of the armory reminded me of the arms exhibit at the Metropolitan, and of the stuff I'd seen at the Worcester Art Museum. Really wonderful. Art and weapons in one.

“While you two find Lotli's clothes, I'm going to hunt down something.” Chase started toward a side door, then turned back to us. “Selena, you do know what to get, right?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course, Dad told us all about the performers, and Lotli and I talked about some stuff too—like cup size.”

“Oh—all right, then,” he said, striding off.

Selena hooked her arm with mine and tugged me toward an archway. “The women's wardrobe rooms are this way. Mom used to bring me here and let me pick out dress-up outfits. The best treat ever.”

We opened a white door and the atmosphere went from that of a glistening museum to a discount warehouse for time travelers. Racks and racks of Victorian dresses, beaded evening gowns, black-and-gold embroidered kaftans, kimonos, riding jackets, Christian Dior suits, saris, a mountain of chain mail, hatboxes, and carpetbags were stacked and piled everywhere. The hum of an air purification system and the lack of any scent told me the room wasn't in fact as uncared for as it appeared. It was like the world's best yard sale and it called to my antique dealer's blood like a siren to a lonely sailor.

Selena whipped a feather-trimmed shawl off a shelf and draped it around her shoulders. “Isn't this great?” she asked

“It's beyond incredible.” I spun around, taking in the colors and textures on all sides and above us. “We could go anywhere; all we need is a time machine.”

Selena laughed. “I'm pretty sure we don't have one of those.”

“Just pretty sure?” My gaze caught on a tall metal rack: pointy toes, pink, velvet green, brilliant red, rhinestones and bows. “Shoes!” I squealed, grabbing a bright-fuchsia pair with open toes and spiky heels.

“Ahem,” Chase's voice said. “Are you two getting anything useful done?”

Clutching the shoes, I twirled to face him.

He had a brown hooded robe draped over his arm. “I imagine there are other robes around here, but this is the one David wore when he went to the realm. It's the right color, the right look.” He smirked. “It would go nice with those shoes.”

I shoved the fuchsia spikes back on the rack. Then I took the robe and pulled it on over my clothes. Holding my arms out, I let its hem drop to the floor.

Chase tilted his head, studying me. “Looks pretty good.”

“It feels a little weird with my clothes on under it. What do eunuchs usually wear underneath—long undies or some kind of full-length T-shirt?”

“Usually, nothing,” he said.

Selena giggled. “Kind of like kilts. Now, c'mon. Put the hood up. I want to see the whole effect.”

The hood was deep, closing in around all sides of my face. “It's like looking through a keyhole,” I said.

“Once we've blackened under your eyes, it'll be perfect.” Chase turned to leave. “I'll go find you a belt to cinch it up. We don't need you tripping.”

Holding up the hem, I rushed after him. “Wait. I'll come with you. Maybe I can find some kind of men's nightgown to wear underneath.”

“We'll find something for your feet, too.”

“Something sparkly with spiked heels?”

He chuckled. “I don't think so.”

“Have fun,” Selena called after us. “I'll pick out Lotli's stuff.”

As I strode after him, I couldn't help daydreaming about playing the swashbuckling role of a woman disguised as a monk, hiding among Robin Hood's band or on a pirate's ship.

But my shoulders sagged and my footsteps slowed to a scuff when I caught a glimpse of my figure reflected in a showcase's glass. Every inch of me was rendered drab and sexless by the sack-like outfit. To add insult to injury, behind my reflection and the showcase's glass stood a dazzling mannequin, a Tibetan bride draped from head to toe in bright-colored clothing and jewelry: oranges, turquoise, cobalt, and gold.
She looks as gaudy as a chest full of pirate's booty,
I told myself. But heat bloomed on my cheeks and a hollow sensation took root in my chest. Who was I kidding? She was as dazzling as Lotli would be in her flutist's outfit.

I raised my chin and hurried past. What was I doing? This wasn't about who looked the hottest. This was about all of us staying safe—about bringing Mother home.

As it turned out, Chase shouldn't have teased Selena and me for ogling clothes. He had me use the signet ring to open at least a dozen showcases so he could check out this and drool over that. He finally ended up with a pile of weapons and straps, padded tunics, light armor, and a long russet scarf. Apparently, the djinn prized antique human weapons and clothing, and—though the proper attire for eunuchs and servants was strictly regulated—flamboyant excess was the norm for the wealthy and powerful, and warriors and performers, of course.

While Chase went into another room to look at pants and get changed, I took off my clothes and tried on a linen shift I'd found hanging with a bunch of extra-large undertunics. Lightweight and unisex, the shift didn't disguise my figure. But it did protect my skin from the robe's coarse fabric.

I heard the swish of Chase's footsteps returning and my skin tingled. Sure, I despised the djinn for what they had done to him, but I was ungodly curious to see him dressed as a warrior.

He stepped through the doorway, and then stopped and dipped his turban-covered head at me.

My mouth fell open, and all I could do was stare. The only part of his face that wasn't covered by the russet-colored scarf was his fierce ocean-gray eyes. The padded tunic and leather armor made his shoulders and chest look even broader and more muscular than they already were, and covered his branded collarbone as well. Studded leather arm bracers protected his sun-browned forearms. Leather bands encircled his biceps. A sheathed sword and scimitar were crossed on his back, and at least a dozen knives were stashed elsewhere. Everything about him, even his loose white breeches and tall boots, showed the perfect amount of dustiness and scuffs, like a victorious warrior who'd seen battle and lived to tell about it. He also looked terrifyingly at ease. If the Tibetan bride's outfit was dazzling, then he was the masculine version of dazzling times a million.