Authors: Richelle Mead
“I don't know yet,” Sydney admitted. “So far, everything's gone as plannedâand it doesn't show up on the skin. It's more or less invisible.” Marcus lit up at that. One drawback of the indigo ink was that it made Alchemist rebels pretty conspicuous. “I've got a few other . . . experiments to do on my friend. But I feel pretty good about it, and as long as I can make the time, producing more ink for you shouldn't be a problem. When will you be back?”
“We expect to cross back in El Paso this week,” he said. “We've got a new person to ârescue,' and then I should be able to make my way to you. Maybe a week and a half? Two at most? You think you'd have something by then?”
She nodded. “Should be able to have the Alchemist ink for sure.” I could tell by a catch in her voice that she was still trying to figure out how to make the original compulsion ink. “We can set up a drop at Adrian's. Do you remember where he lives?”
“How could I forget?” Marcus rolled his eyes. “Such fond memories of throwing him around there.”
“Hey,” I said warningly. “I threw
you
around.”
Sydney shot us both chastising looks. “I'll make sure it's there. Do you have cell phones yet?”
“No, but we will when we're back in the States, and Sabrina still has your contact information, so I can get it from her. We'll get in touch and finalize things.”
“Are we good then?” I asked. I was actually sweating. “I need to get some sleep.”
“We should be,” said Sydney, eyes worried as she looked me over. “Get in touch as soon as you can, Marcus.”
“I will,” he promised.
I took that as a dismissal and let him fade away. I could see from Sydney's face that she wanted to talk to me, but something was buzzing in my head, and I lost my remaining control on the dream. It fell to pieces around us, and I was just barely able to tell her, “We'll talk tomorrow.” She grew translucent and disappeared.
When I came to in the real world, I discovered the buzzing I'd heard was from my cell phone, which I'd left on vibrate on my bedside table. I was surprised to see Lissa's name on the display and answered with shaking hands, astonished at how exhausted I felt.
“Kind of late for you, isn't it, Your Majesty?”
“You're on a human schedule,” she reminded me, amusement in her voice.
“Ah. Right. It all starts to run together after a while. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Nothing social, I'm afraid. You're not going to like this, but I've got to play the queen card and summon you to Court. I know it's a pain. I know, and I'm sorry. Really.”
“What's going on?” Dread built in my stomach.
“Sonya wants your help on what to do with Olive and the blood. She says the magic is starting to fade out from it, and no one knows how to stop it.”
“She couldn't just call me?”
“She says it's too complicated and that you should be there firsthand since you helped contain it.”
“I see.” Spirit dreams and auras were problematic enough . . . how in the world was I supposed to even come close to replicating what I'd done before? And yet I wasn't ready to tell Lissa about the pills either.
“Sonya was also wondering if . . .” Lissa's voice grew hesitant. “Well, do you think Sydney would come? If we got permission from the Alchemists?”
My heart sped up. “Why her?”
“Sonya thought we could make some kind of binding tattoo out of the blood and says Sydney's had experience with that kind of thing.” It was true. Keith had been busted for masterminding a performance-enhancing tattoo ring that Sydney had uncovered. And if they really just did need me as an advisor on an experiment, then maybe I could hide my fading spirit. “And let's face it, Sydney's probably the only Alchemist who'd be able to handle time here at Court. It may be a few days. Do you think she'd do it? Travel with you? Or . . . well, maybe separately to hide your connection to Jill.”
Holy shit. I could scarcely believe what I was hearing. Lissa was offering the chance for me to get away with Sydney. True, it wasn't exactly a romantic escapade, but the Moroi Royal Court was pretty much the last place we'd have to worry about Alchemist eyes. We'd just have to worry about my kind.
“If the Alchemists tell her to, she will.” I played it as cool as I could. “Orders trump fear with them. She'd probably be able to handle traveling with me too, if you want to have us meet up on a connection like last time.”
Lissa's relief poured through the phone. “I'm so glad. That'll make things a lot easier if we bring you guys and Neil together.”
“Neil?”
“Well, yeah. You should travel with protection. Unless you want Eddie this time?”
So much for my alone time with Sydney. Hopefully we'd find some at Court. “No, send Buckingham Palace. He'll do less damage this way.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing.”
She promised I'd have flight details in the morning, and when we disconnected, I collapsed onto the bed and fell almost instantly into asleep.
More buzzing woke me up, but it took me longer to find my phone since it was lost in the covers. I just barely answered in time and squinted at the bright morning sunlight coming in from the window I'd forgotten to cover last night.
“Adrian?” It was Jill, sounding anxious. “I just heard you're going to Court.”
“Yup. Royal directives and all. Don't worry, Jailbait. I'll bring you a T-shirt.”
“Adrian.” The sternness in my name was a remarkable match for what Sydney used sometimes. “I had to hear it from Neil.”
I groaned. “Don't start this. Lissa said it'd be only a few days. You can live that long without him.”
“No,” she said impatiently. “You missed the point.
I had to hear it from him. Because I didn't read it from you.”
My brain was still groggy with sleep and fatigue, though a prickling along my skin warned me that I was teetering on the edge of something. “What are you saying?”
“I'm saying, I don't know what's going on with you anymore. The bond's gone dark.”
SYDNEY
I
T'S AMAZING HOW NICE PEOPLE CAN BE
when they think you're going to die.
“Sydney, I'm sorry. I really am.”
“And I told you to forget about it.” I didn't even look at Zoe as I perused my sweater selection. My clothes were kept in a complex system organized by temperature and occasion. Pennsylvania in December was going to require some of my heaviest clothing.
“I just got upset that Dad didn't even seem to notice me,” she continued.
Welcome to my world,
I thought. It was ironic that I was now in a phase of my life where I finally had his attention and didn't want it. I was at least glad we were having this discussion, though. We'd talked little about our dinner with Dad, and if she was second-guessing criticizing me, that was good both for me personally and perhaps for her progress in lightening up in Alchemist beliefs. I felt a little bad that this was coming out because she thought my Court trip would endanger my life, but no way would I correct her.
“He was right about you being so good at your job,” she added. “If you hadn't gotten so comfortable with
them
, you'd never be able to go to their Court now. I know it's a big deal that you got chosen. Not many people could handle it. I couldn't.” She sighed. “But I wish you weren't going. I'm so worried about you.”
I finally looked over at her, sitting cross-legged on her bed. A pang stirred in my heart. Despite all the jealousy and suspicion, she was still my sister, and she loved me. She was just confused and insecure about her life right now, which was totally understandable. I was pretty sure she didn't want this strife between us any more than I did. It was just the lot we'd been given.
“I'll be fine. The Moroi are safe, and they want my help. Nothing's going to happen to me.”
She still looked skeptical. “But you're staying overnight with them.
Surrounded by them.
Couldn't you have gotten a hotel in a nearby town? Isn't that what we usually do for trips there? It would keep you away from them.”
It would also keep me away from Adrian. “Staying on-site means I can finish my work faster and get home faster,” I said reasonably. That was hard logic to beat. “And I survived staying with them when they were all partying and drinking champagne at that wedding. This has to be better.”
“Text me all the time so that I know you're okay.”
I couldn't help a smile. “I'll see what I can do. And you text me too on how everything's going.”
“I will,” she assured me, nodding eagerly. “I'll be just like you.”
“I know you'll do a great job.” I actually meant it. She was smart and competentâand now motivated.
“And I'll make sure they get dinner at Clarence's and that Angeline doesn't do anything crazy. Too crazy.” Her lips turned up in a mischievous smile. “Did you hear that she threatened to sue the school for misrepresentation when her history teacher explained that the War of 1812 lasted until 1815?”
“No, I hadn't heard that.” I shook my head in exasperation yet was secretly thrilled to hear Zoe laughing over someone she thought of as a wacky acquaintanceâand not as a creature of evil.
“I'll keep her in line, don't worry.” Zoe grew a little more serious. “I don't suppose . . . well, could I drive them? You know I can do it. And it's not that far.”
“It's not legal,” I rebuked gently, hating to see the longing in her. “If you got pulled overâ”
“I wouldn't! I'd be careful.”
“It's the other drivers you have to worry about,” I said, knowing I sounded like a driving instructor. “Just keep practicing with Eddie. You'll get your license at some point.”
She sighed. “But when?”
“The next time you're back in Utah, I guess.”
A moment of silence descended between us. From her face, I had a good guess at what she was thinking. When would she be back in Utah? I knew my dad wouldn't let her stay license-less forever. It was something she needed for the job. It wasn't a priority for him right now, though, so she'd have to wait. If she went back there to live with our mom, however . . .
“I guess . . . I guess I'll just be patient.” Her mournful look intensified. “Anyway. I'll worry about you until you get back.”
I patted her on the shoulder. “Don't. This is one of those times you can't think of me as your sister. Treat me like I'm another Alchemist, off to do a job.”
“It's hard,” she said, in a voice that made my heart break. “I don't know if I can.”
“You'll learn to,” I said.
My flight was leaving soon, and I spent the rest of our time together trying to look stoic and resigned about this unpleasant mission. But after a while, I had to admit that I was secretly elated. Adrian and I were getting away from here! True, it was no free-for-all, but it'd be a relief to be away from suspicious eyesâand to actually have reason to be together.
Just like the last time Adrian and I had flown to Court, we rendezvoused in Los Angeles for our connection to Philadelphia. He and Neil were already waiting at our gate when I arrived, and I paused in my approach to study them. Neil was reading a martial arts book. Adrian had the poetry book I'd given him open on his lap and was staring out the window. The light illuminated his fair skin and sculpted features, and even from here, I wanted to run my fingers through his dark hair. There was a pensive expression on his face, and I wondered if he was worried about our upcoming task. Things had been calm and steady for the last couple of weeks, which had me on edge that we were due for another episode of spirit's revenge.
“Sage,” he said, when I resumed my approach. The brooding look vanished, replaced by his sly, lazy one. “Ready for an arctic expedition?” He nodded at the parka I carried. Faux fur, of course. “I bet you've gotten a lot of strange looks hauling that around here.”
“Didn't you check the weather for where we're going? Never mind. Of course you didn't.” Neil at least had on a sturdy ski jacket, but Adrian's peacoat didn't reassure me. I supposed it was promising that he had anything at all. “Is that all you brought?”
“It's my best-looking coat,” he said.
“So I take it that's a yes.”
“Style over substance, Sage. I've got a lot of adoring fans back there that'll expect me to look my best. Can't weigh myself down in . . . well, down.”
I put on my best look of disdain. “Well, don't come crying to me when you're out in twenty-degree weather. I'm here to do real work, not babysit you.”
Neil shook his head at Adrian and gave me a sympathetic look before returning to his book. As soon as his attention was off us, I caught Adrian's eye. Neither of us dared to smile, but the knowing glint in those green depths made my heart rate pick up.
And . . . it continued to beat pretty fast for the rest of our travels. The three of us sat together in coach (earning no end of melodrama from Adrian), with me in between them. Neil was content to read about attack techniques and barely said two words to us. Adrian and I were each theoretically preoccupied with our own reading material, but I knew both of us were more fixated on each other's proximity. Our legs pressed together, and I was as guilty as he was about stolen touches. When the flight attendant came by with beverages, I practically ended up in his lap while reaching for my Diet Coke. And when Adrian wanted new reading material, he decided to search the pocket in front of me for magazines first, leaning so that his hand brushed my thigh. Even through my jeans, that touch was provocative and made me think of all the times he'd run his hands over my legs.
It was agonizing . . . and exquisite.
It was also frustrating. I spent most of the flight obsessing over each touch and when we'd touch again. These casual brushes set me aflame, but by the time we neared our destination, all I could think about was when we'd get a chance to be alone so that we could be done with this subterfuge. Judging from Adrian's growing silence and the way his breath caught when our eyes locked, I had a feeling I wasn't the only one thinking indecent thoughts.
Get a grip, Sydney,
I thought.
Or at least a cold shower. Aren't you supposed to be turning your mind to higher pursuits of knowledge?
I was so consumed by my turbulent feelings that Neil totally caught me by surprise when our flight was descending. “Do you think I'll have a chance to see Olive?”
Adrian glanced up from his poetry book. “Probably. This whole thing is because of her blood, so I'm sure she'll be around.”
“That's not what Iâ” Neil bit his lip and looked out the window. “Never mind.”
“Ohhh,” said Adrian, with a wink that was lost on Neil. “There's see and
see.
You mean
see.
I'm sure there'll be time between our breathtaking discoveries for you to take each other's breath away in a different kind of way.”
Neil turned back, blushing bright red. “It's not that like that. We've been e-mailing since we met, and we really connect.”
“Well, there's connect andâ”
“Adrian, stop helping.” To Neil, I said, “I don't know her, but whatever we have to do isn't going to be solved in five minutes. You'll have time and won't even be on constant duty.” That brightened him up immensely.
Once we were in Philadelphia, we rented a car for the rest of the trip. Normal trips to the Court's location on the edge of the Pocono Mountains usually relied on puddle jumper planes to a rural airport thirty minutes away, but those flights were infrequent, hence the car. The trip took us about two and a half hours, a drive that would've been scenic in the middle of the day. But between the flights and the time changes, darkness had long since overtaken us, something that put Neil on high alert. He sat beside me as I drove, barely blinking as he scanned around us. I'd talked a good talk to Zoe about my safety, but that had been regarding Moroi. I'd forgotten that where Moroi grouped, Strigoi often followed, and dark roads leading to Court were fraught with danger at night. I didn't
think
any Strigoi would come leaping onto the car as we drove at sixty miles per hour, but I was grateful for Neil's painstaking diligence. Despite his teasing, I think Adrian was as well.
It was midnight when we finally crossed the Court's borders. Neil was as stiff and rigid as ever, but Adrian had sprawled out and fallen asleep in the backseat. He yawned and stretched his arms as I slowed down to talk to the guards at the gate. As far as most humans were concerned, the Court was a very specialized and private college. It certainly looked like one, with venerable ivy-covered buildings and broad, beautiful courtyards. But as sharp-eyed dhampirs peered into the car, I was reminded of Zoe's warnings. I was about to enter a compound of supernatural creatures.
“Lord Ivashkov,” said one of the guards, noticing Adrian. “Welcome back.”
Adrian smothered another yawn and nodded. Lord Ivashkov. I forgot sometimes that Adrian was part of a royal family and that even minor members could use “lord” and “lady” when they were adults. It was unreal to think I was dating royalty. Even more unreal that these days his title weirded me out more than the fact that he was a vampire did.
The dhampir gestured to a narrow dirt road leading around outskirts of the Court's central grounds. “Follow that around and park behind the palace,” he said. “You're expected.”
“The palace,” I muttered, once he'd waved us on. “We aren't in Palm Springs anymore.”
“It's just what they call where the queen lives,” said Adrian. He leaned forward and stuck his head between Neil and me. “Looks just like any other academic building. You'll feel right at home.”
That wasn't entirely true. Once we'd parked and been admitted through a back door, a guide led us down grand corridors illuminated by crystal chandeliers and lined with portraits depicting centuries of Moroi monarchs. Those delicate, pale faces watched me, reminding me that I truly was in another worldâa world where I was the outsider. The old Alchemist anxiety began to bubble up, and I told myself over and over that I was a guest here. No one would try to hurt me. And if they did, Adrian wouldn't let them.
I knew the queen's residence had an actual throne room and other areas for state functions, but tonight we were taken to a more casual setting: a media room. Definitely not something I imagined when I thought of palaces. A giant TV screen hung on the wall and displayed some show in which people appeared to be competing in teams on a muddy obstacle course. Large plush sofas were arranged around the screen and held various Moroi and dhampirs who didn't notice our entrance. A couple of guardians standing watch on opposite sides of the room saw us instantly, of course. I turned my attention to the spectators on the couch, one of whom I recognized right away.