The Essence
Page 72
We all sat around a banged-up metal table below deck. The coal furnace filled the room with so much heat it was stifling and hard to breathe. I almost preferred the cold.
I stripped out of my hat and coat, and laid my gloves in front of me, looking around at those who were privy to this information. Since we could only afford to share the details with those we knew—without a doubt—could be trusted, we made for a pathetic assemblage. There were seven of us in all. Aside from me and Max, there were Brook and Aron, Claude and Zafir, and Niko.
“We’re going to try to draw the traitor out,” said Niko. “Once we reach the palace, we’re going to take you, along with a small band, and head south to where your family is staying. We’ll slip away so that no one knows we’re gone, and hopefully when he tries to make contact with his—”
“Or her,” Aron interrupted and everyone looked up at him at once. “What? You’re talking as if we’re certain the traitor is a man, as if it can’t possibly be a woman. But Brook could just as easily be an assassin as she could be a soldier.”
Brook grinned at Aron, taking his words as a compliment.
“He’s right,” I admitted. “It could just as easily be a woman.”
Niko just shook his head. “When the traitor tries to make contact with his or her,” he amended, “people, they’ll come to the palace looking for you. And when they get there . . .”
Brook’s eyes widened. “It’ll be a trap!” she exclaimed, slamming her fist enthusiastically on the rusted tabletop. “I love it. So which group do I get to be in? Please say trap, please say trap.” She crossed her fingers on both hands, hoping to be part of the ambush.
Max was already shaking his head, but it was Niko who answered. “Sorry, Commander. We need you to be with the queen and her family. Their safety will still be of the utmost importance.” I hated that I knew what he really meant: that Sabara’s safety was of the utmost importance.
“I don’t get it,” I said, wondering if I’d missed something. “Won’t they know I’m not at the palace? Wouldn’t it be obvious that I’m missing?”
“No,” Niko said, sounding more sure than I thought he should. “We’ll have a stand-in for you. Someone pretending to be you.”
“Where are you going to find someone to be me? Who could you get to fool the guards?”
Niko signaled to Claude, who opened the door.
We all watched silently, while the furnace continued to pump out that oppressive heat.
A girl stepped inside, and I frowned. It was Avonlea.
“She can’t . . . ,” I started to say, realizing that Niko meant for Avonlea to take my place. “She looks nothing like me. No one would ever believe it.”
She smiled then, a small slip of a smile that was almost a non-smile, as she reached for her hat. When she pulled it off, her hair fell free. Only it wasn’t her hair. It was mine. Silver-blond strands that spilled around her face.
“What . . . ? How?” I got up from the table to stand before her. I was amazed. Mesmerized.
I thought of all the nights Brook and I had spent in the clubs, of the rainbows of colors we’d seen people dye their hair for the night. Temporary colors that would never be allowed out in public. But those were colors.
This, what Avonlea had done to her auburn-streaked hair, was the exact opposite. This was the absence of color, as if she’d somehow stripped the fiery hues from her hair.
“It’s not possible,” I said at last.
“It was a gift,” Max said, coming to stand behind me. He put his hands on my shoulders. “From Queen Neva.”
I reached for Avonlea, fingering a strand of her hair. It felt like mine too. “What did she do to you?”
Avonlea blushed, and even her almost-blue eyes seemed, somehow, bluer.
It was Niko who answered. “Neva knew you were in trouble and she offered to use her gift to protect you. This is what she can do—create illusions.”
I stared at Avonlea, and thought about the way Neva had hugged me, about the way she’d told me to be safe. She’d known the plan and had wanted to help.
“Is it permanent?” I asked.
Niko shook his head. “It’ll start wearing off in a few days. By the end of the week, she’ll be completely back to normal. We’ll have to act quickly. For her part, Avonlea will need to keep to herself as much as possible, stay in your rooms and pretend she’s not feeling well.” Niko turned to Avonlea. “Think you can manage that?”
She looked at Niko like he was simpleminded. “If you’re asking if I can lie in bed all day while other people wait on me?” Her Scablander inflection was still firmly in place. “I imagine I can handle it.”
“Yeah, well don’t get too comfortable,” Brook cautioned.
I wrapped my arm around Avonlea. “I don’t know, you guys, I think I could get used to this. I kinda like having someone else acting as the queen.”
Avonlea pulled away, but she was grinning back at me. “I wouldn’t take your job for nothing,” she groused. “A few days, sure. But I saw the way those other queens were. Odd bunch, those ones. I’d sooner take my chances with Floss than deal with the lot of them.”
We didn’t even have to ride an entire day before we reached the train line, and then it was less than two days’ travel by rail. Both were heaven compared to the ferry, which was either too cold above board or too hot below. And far better than being at Vannova, where I’d been shackled by the weight of my secrets and burdened by guilt.
I stripped out of my hat and coat, and laid my gloves in front of me, looking around at those who were privy to this information. Since we could only afford to share the details with those we knew—without a doubt—could be trusted, we made for a pathetic assemblage. There were seven of us in all. Aside from me and Max, there were Brook and Aron, Claude and Zafir, and Niko.
“We’re going to try to draw the traitor out,” said Niko. “Once we reach the palace, we’re going to take you, along with a small band, and head south to where your family is staying. We’ll slip away so that no one knows we’re gone, and hopefully when he tries to make contact with his—”
“Or her,” Aron interrupted and everyone looked up at him at once. “What? You’re talking as if we’re certain the traitor is a man, as if it can’t possibly be a woman. But Brook could just as easily be an assassin as she could be a soldier.”
Brook grinned at Aron, taking his words as a compliment.
“He’s right,” I admitted. “It could just as easily be a woman.”
Niko just shook his head. “When the traitor tries to make contact with his or her,” he amended, “people, they’ll come to the palace looking for you. And when they get there . . .”
Brook’s eyes widened. “It’ll be a trap!” she exclaimed, slamming her fist enthusiastically on the rusted tabletop. “I love it. So which group do I get to be in? Please say trap, please say trap.” She crossed her fingers on both hands, hoping to be part of the ambush.
Max was already shaking his head, but it was Niko who answered. “Sorry, Commander. We need you to be with the queen and her family. Their safety will still be of the utmost importance.” I hated that I knew what he really meant: that Sabara’s safety was of the utmost importance.
“I don’t get it,” I said, wondering if I’d missed something. “Won’t they know I’m not at the palace? Wouldn’t it be obvious that I’m missing?”
“No,” Niko said, sounding more sure than I thought he should. “We’ll have a stand-in for you. Someone pretending to be you.”
“Where are you going to find someone to be me? Who could you get to fool the guards?”
Niko signaled to Claude, who opened the door.
We all watched silently, while the furnace continued to pump out that oppressive heat.
A girl stepped inside, and I frowned. It was Avonlea.
“She can’t . . . ,” I started to say, realizing that Niko meant for Avonlea to take my place. “She looks nothing like me. No one would ever believe it.”
She smiled then, a small slip of a smile that was almost a non-smile, as she reached for her hat. When she pulled it off, her hair fell free. Only it wasn’t her hair. It was mine. Silver-blond strands that spilled around her face.
“What . . . ? How?” I got up from the table to stand before her. I was amazed. Mesmerized.
I thought of all the nights Brook and I had spent in the clubs, of the rainbows of colors we’d seen people dye their hair for the night. Temporary colors that would never be allowed out in public. But those were colors.
This, what Avonlea had done to her auburn-streaked hair, was the exact opposite. This was the absence of color, as if she’d somehow stripped the fiery hues from her hair.
“It’s not possible,” I said at last.
“It was a gift,” Max said, coming to stand behind me. He put his hands on my shoulders. “From Queen Neva.”
I reached for Avonlea, fingering a strand of her hair. It felt like mine too. “What did she do to you?”
Avonlea blushed, and even her almost-blue eyes seemed, somehow, bluer.
It was Niko who answered. “Neva knew you were in trouble and she offered to use her gift to protect you. This is what she can do—create illusions.”
I stared at Avonlea, and thought about the way Neva had hugged me, about the way she’d told me to be safe. She’d known the plan and had wanted to help.
“Is it permanent?” I asked.
Niko shook his head. “It’ll start wearing off in a few days. By the end of the week, she’ll be completely back to normal. We’ll have to act quickly. For her part, Avonlea will need to keep to herself as much as possible, stay in your rooms and pretend she’s not feeling well.” Niko turned to Avonlea. “Think you can manage that?”
She looked at Niko like he was simpleminded. “If you’re asking if I can lie in bed all day while other people wait on me?” Her Scablander inflection was still firmly in place. “I imagine I can handle it.”
“Yeah, well don’t get too comfortable,” Brook cautioned.
I wrapped my arm around Avonlea. “I don’t know, you guys, I think I could get used to this. I kinda like having someone else acting as the queen.”
Avonlea pulled away, but she was grinning back at me. “I wouldn’t take your job for nothing,” she groused. “A few days, sure. But I saw the way those other queens were. Odd bunch, those ones. I’d sooner take my chances with Floss than deal with the lot of them.”
We didn’t even have to ride an entire day before we reached the train line, and then it was less than two days’ travel by rail. Both were heaven compared to the ferry, which was either too cold above board or too hot below. And far better than being at Vannova, where I’d been shackled by the weight of my secrets and burdened by guilt.
