The Madness Project (The Madness Method) (32 page)

BOOK: The Madness Project (The Madness Method)
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“Stand behind me,” he said, gruff.  “I will leash you if I
have to.”

I grinned my best—most infuriating—grin and made my way as
slowly as possible back toward him.  Finally the four men stopped debating long
enough to notice the guard standing in the doorway.

“Yes?” one of them asked.  “What is it?”

“Young man to see Kor,” the guard said, and hauled me
forward to stand beside him.

Kor’s head snapped around, the strangest expression on his
face as his eyes met mine.  But all he said was, “Oh.”

And for some reason, I’m not sure why, I thought he sounded
disappointed.

He handed a sheaf of papers to one of the other men and
clapped him on the shoulder.  “See to that.  We’ll finish this later.”  He
beckoned to me, saying to the guard, “You’re dismissed.  I’ll show him out.”

The guard saluted—to
Kor
—and marched off without a
backwards glance, brushing his hand off on his uniform jacket as he went.  The
hand that had touched me.

Once the other men had gathered their things and filed from
the room, I wandered out onto the balcony and leaned on the balustrade beside
Kor.

“So,” he said, studying me.  “You came after all.  What do
you want?”

“Had no idea you had such an important role in my fa—in the
Court,” I said, nodding back toward the board room.

He shrugged.  “Of course you didn’t.  You look awful, by the
way.”

“I aim to please.”

He snorted.  “What’d you do?  Get in a fight?”

“At least one.”  I touched my eye, wincing.  The swelling
had started to go down by now, but it still stung to the touch and from the
board room mirror I knew it looked ghastlier than ever, all sickly yellow and
green.  “And thanks for warning me about the water.”

His eyes widened.  “Oh.  Yes, forgot that, didn’t I.  Well,
you’re still alive, so that’s fine, I suppose.”

“Suppose so,” I said, staring down into the garden.

A few girls in woolen coats and scarves were wandering
through the perfectly groomed rows of hedges and winter-bare rose bushes, the
wind chasing their laughter and the murmur of their voices up to the balcony. 
I frowned and shifted my weight, because even from my distance I recognized Samyr. 
A few weeks ago the sight of her there wouldn’t have surprised me.  The
Ministry girls spent so much of their time around the palace, sometimes it felt
as if I could never get clear of them.  But now it wasn’t surprising so much as
unsettling.

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry.  “I have a bit of
information.”

“Mm,” Kor said, striking a match on the balustrade to light
his cigar.  “Pray tell.”

“I know where Rivano is hiding.”

He didn’t say anything at first.  He lounged against the
railing smoking his cigar, the wind blowing the pungent smoke over me until my
eyes burned and my lungs seized in a cough.  My already frayed nerves snapped. 
I snatched the cigar from his hand and smashed it against the stone.

“I told you once,” I hissed.  “Not around me.”

Kor speared such a dangerous glare at me that all I wanted
was to take a step back, return the cigar…anything to quell the tension.  A
week ago I might have, but I liked to imagine that a week had already changed
me.  Not much, but enough that I could throw the cigar into the bushes without
too much thought.  I couldn’t look at him while I did it, though.  I hadn’t
changed that much.


You
are no one I need to listen to,” Kor snapped,
bringing his face close to mine and jabbing his finger at my throat.

I held my gaze averted, and tried to keep my chin up.

“I didn’t have to come,” I said.  “Do you want the
information or not?”

Kor hissed a sigh.  “You really know where he is?  What, did
your girlfriend finally get you in?”

“He wasn’t hard to find,” I said, just a bit maliciously.  I
knew it would chafe him to think I’d done in a few days what my father’s
intelligence officers had failed to do so far.

“You think you’re too good for this game, don’t you,” Kor
said.  “Let me tell you something,
boy
.  People have died playing this
game.  Good people.  People who are a hell of a lot smarter and more
experienced than you.  So watch yourself.  And whatever it is you think you
know, better spit it out now before I throw you into the bushes.”

I grinned.  “It’s the old Troyce & Fallon factory.”

“What?”

Finally.  I’d finally managed to stun him.

“That place was condemned after the factory fire,” he said. 
“Are you sure?”

“Sure as rain,” I said.  “They’re holed up in the basement. 
Some of the kids tried to convince me the factory itself is haunted.”

“Of course they think that.  South-siders are notoriously
superstitious.  Well, who’d be surprised, thick as the magic is down there?” 

“Some time you’ll have to explain how you can be so harsh
toward Jixies.”

“It’s not really any of your business, now, is it?” he
asked.  But he said it mostly without venom, and after a moment he flicked his
hand toward me.  “So, are you sure Rivano is there?”

I hesitated.  “I haven’t seen him myself, but the girl said
his headquarters are there.  I got a good look at the Hole, though.  Same
building.  That’s where the kids live who work for a fellow named Kantian.”

“I’ve heard of him,” Kor said, interest flickering in his
eyes.  “Never knew he had anything to do with Rivano.”

“Well, he’s more like a front man, from what I can tell. 
The kids seem to do some kind of work for him, in exchange for shelter and
food.  Of course, they all do their part, too, shuffling around mills and
factories.  They never seem to stay in one place long.”

“Of course they don’t,” Kor said.  “The
stavos
have
too tight a leash on the foremen.  Control who they hire and for how long. 
Kantian never sold out to a
stavo
so his crew gets the short of it.”  He
frowned.  “How many kids would you say he’s got?”

I frowned, trying to do a mental count of the faces in my
fickle memories.  “Not sure.  I’m guessing twenty, give or take a handful?”

He sniffed.  “You know how many kids live on the streets in
Brinmark?  Twenty hardly sounds dangerous.  Well, have you seen any weapons down
in the Hole?  Were the children being trained in combat techniques?  Anything
else of interest?”

“Not that I saw.” 

I thrummed my fingers on the balustrade, trying to think if
I was forgetting any important details.  Stars, though, I couldn’t concentrate
at all.  Samyr and the other girls were passing close under the balcony now,
and my heart had taken to hammering in my throat.  She wouldn’t recognize me. 
She
couldn’t
.  Still, it felt so wrong, so utterly wrong to be here with
her so close, looking like
this

“Although,” I said finally, letting my thoughts drift away
from Samyr, “I did hear something interesting from some other kids—the ones who
aren’t part of Kantian’s crew.  There’s talk of rebellion.  I’m not sure if
it’s just a vicious rumor or if it’s real, but they seem to believe it down
there.”

“Rebellion?  As in, violent rebellion?”

“I really couldn’t say.”

“Maybe you should find out.”

“It has to do with Rivano, though.  And…Istia.  Not sure if
it has anything to do with the anarchists, though.”

Kor straightened up and turned to face me, eyes narrowed. 
“Are you sure about
any
of this?  Think hard, kid, because the wrong
information could get a lot of people hurt.”

I swallowed and tried to recall the conversation.  It struck
me suddenly that everything I told Kor could change the whole world down
there.  He would take the information to my father’s advisors, or to the
Intelligence Committee, and they would act on it.  Somehow I’d managed to
ignore that until now.  It had only been a game, pretending to ferret out bits
of information, getting a pat on the back if I found all the right pieces…  Up
until now, it hadn’t meant a thing. 

“I don’t…” I started, then leaned my elbows on the rail,
pressing my palms against my forehead.  “I’m not sure.  It was when I was with
the Bricks.  I told them I was from Istia and they asked if I was here for the
rebellion.  That’s all.  I’m not sure what that means, but rebellions come from
within a country, so, it doesn’t make much sense at all.”

“Means you’ve got some more work to do,” Kor said.  He had
his matchbox out, twirling it back and forth on the stone balustrade.  “You met
the Bricks?”

“You know about them?” I asked, instead of answering.

“I’ve heard of them.  Look, I’ve been working that district
a hell of a lot longer than you.  They’re a close-lipped group as a whole down
there, but I do know
some
things.”

“Good, maybe you can tell me something.  If I want to have
any chance with the Hole, I need to find the name of the Bricks’ supplier.  I
don’t even know what kind of supplier.  It was by sheer chance that I found the
Bricks in the first place.”

“Their
stavo
, eh?”  He sighed.  “What do they need
the name for?”

“I have no idea.”

A peeved look passed over his face.  “Listen.  You need to
start thinking this kind of thing through before you come running back here
again, right?  You can’t just think, ‘Oh, someone mentioned a rebellion,’ and
decide that’s enough to warrant a visit back home. 
Think
about it next
time.  And if you don’t have all the facts, keep digging.  Otherwise you’re
just wasting my time.”

I clenched my teeth through the whole lecture.  When he
finally stopped, I exhaled, slowly, and turned toward him.

“You didn’t exactly give me any advice on that matter.”

“I thought it was common sense.  My mistake.”

The heat rose to my cheeks.  Arguing was pointless; I knew
he was right, much as it shamed me to admit it. 

So I just asked, “Do you know anything about the supplier or
not?”

“No, sorry.  I really don’t.”

“Kor, why didn’t you tell me to make myself older when you
sent me down there?  Nobody thinks a kid should have any business asking questions. 
I’ve just been ignored and rebuked for it so far.”

He heaved a long-suffering sigh.  “You think the only way to
get information is to ask questions?  Sometimes you need to shut up and
listen.”

“And just pray that they get around to talking about
something important?”

“And pray they get around to talking about something
important.”

“Sounds like a waste of time.”

“Except that all the time you’re listening, you’re busy
building their trust and their attachment.”  He eyed me sidelong.  “And as to
your question, do you think you’d have been ignored or scolded for asking
questions if you walked down there as a full-grown man?  No.  You’d have been
taken down an alley and shot for being too nosy.  So. 
That’s
why I
didn’t tell you to change your age.”

“Fair enough,” I muttered.

“All right, is that all you’ve got for me?”

I nodded.  “Don’t do anything yet.  About the Hole, I mean. 
I’m almost in.”

“Stars, kid.  What kind of patsy do you think I am?”  He
jerked his head toward the door.  “Go on.  Get out of here.  I’m not going to
walk you out.  Think I can trust you to get yourself out without causing a
scene with the guards again?”

“Only if I don’t decide to steal from myself on the way
out,” I said. 

He snorted and pulled out another cigar.  Since I didn’t
have the energy to fight him again about the smoke, I gave up and left.

 

Samyr and the girls—Vessa Bell and their plain mouse of a
friend whose name I could never remember—had just left the palace when I
emerged from the grand entrance.  They stood on the wide front steps, adjusting
their hats and gloves and whispering to each other through the furs on their
collars.  I hesitated in the doorway, paralyzed with uncertainty.  If I moved,
they would see me, but if I went back inside, the prickly woman who led the
tours would inevitably be waiting to pounce on me.  I wasn’t sure which option
terrified me more.

I had no chance to decide, though.  Samyr turned suddenly
toward me, and her brows shot up in surprise.  I watched the subtle shift of
her features, from alarm to disgust to something almost—but not
quite—resembling curiosity.  After a moment she tossed her head.

“What’re you looking at?” she asked, haughty, making the
other girls turn and stare at me.

I gave her a scant, feral smile and said, “You.”

Her cheeks flamed.  Vessa inhaled sharply and stepped up
beside Samyr, and I felt so wicked for tormenting them, but my thoughts were
all in a tangle and I couldn’t walk away. 

“Leave her alone,” Vessa said.  “You’ve no right to talk to
us!”

Oh, don’t I?
I thought, but I only said, “She asked. 
I answered.”

Her eyes narrowed.  “We’re the Prince’s friends.  If you
bother us—”

“He’ll what?” I asked, taking the first few stairs down to
stand a bit closer to them.  Vessa backed a step, but Samyr set her hands on
her hips and glared at me.  “Come find me?  Challenge me to a game of wickets?”

“Don’t you dare insult him,” said the other girl, the mousy
one.  “You’re nothing compared to him.”

I eyed her curiously, feeling a bit guilty as always that
I’d never learned her name.  She had to be one of the Minister’s daughters, but
for the life of me I couldn’t figure out which one.  Comparing her to Samyr was
like comparing a thistle to a rose, but I knew Samyr and Vessa were both
fiercely devoted to her.  And of the three of them, she would be the one to
defend me—me,
Tarik
.

“You’re quick to judge,” I said.

“You’re a Jixy,” she said, but her voice quavered on the
word.

I grinned my best mad grin and took another step down.  All
three of them scuttled back then, like little frightened birds.

“Scares you, does it?” I asked.

“You’re an abomination,” Samyr whispered.  “You shouldn’t
exist.”

I turned to her, one brow raised.  I stood as close to her
now as I’d ever dared to as Tarik, but I stood here now as a stranger.  As…an
enemy. 

What if you knew it was me?  Would you say the same
thing?  Would you look at me with that same hate?  Do you know how many times
I’ve wanted to tell you, and Griff, and the whole world, the truth of what I
am?

She stared straight back at me.  Even though she tried to
hide it, I could see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.  She was afraid of
me.  Samyr, afraid of me.  The thought knotted a corner of my heart, until I
wanted nothing more than to walk away and never bother her again.  But Shade
wouldn’t walk away.  God, sometimes I hated him, that person, that mask.

Before I could think it over, he—
I
—replied, “Ever
think maybe you people are the mistake?  Maybe you’re the ones God forgot
about.”

She snorted.  “Don’t be idiotic.”

“You’re right.  He didn’t forget.  He just didn’t think you
deserved a gift.”

Samyr exchanged a glance with the other girls, but she
didn’t rise to my bait.  I knew what she’d be thinking anyway, because a few
weeks ago I’d have thought the same thing.  I sounded superstitious. 
Backwards.  Out of my time. 

BOOK: The Madness Project (The Madness Method)
12.1Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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