The Secret Chapter

by Genevieve Cogman

  She ran.

  Ten minutes later, she was hiding behind a corner, as the third pair of guards so far marched past her. Their flowery sarongs might be pretty and colourful, but their guns looked all too genuine. Fortunately they weren’t very good at conducting searches. The problem with successfully hiding your island from everyone else: your guards never accumulated any experience with genuine enemies.

  Irene needed information. She stepped out once they’d passed, and coughed in an official way. As they spun round, trying to work out where to aim their guns, she said quickly, ‘You perceive I am your superior officer.’

  They snapped to attention. ‘Report!’ she added. ‘What is the current situation?’

  The man on the right looked embarrassed. ‘Subject L is still on the loose, sir. All other guests are still in their holding locations.’

  ‘I see.’ Irene needed more – but it would be hard to explain certain questions. Such as Where precisely are these holding locations? ‘Good. New orders, men. You’re to accompany me to visit the guest Tina. Mr Nemo has a new job for her, and with Subject L on the loose, we need to make sure she’s safe.’

  ‘Sir!’ Both men saluted again and set off at a trot. Irene followed, feeling extremely conspicuous in her bikini. She hoped that the Language’s influence would hold for however long it took to reach Tina. Of course, she wanted to get to Kai, but Mr Nemo would expect Irene to head straight for him. Their friendship . . . attachment . . . was an open secret. It was probably on their files in a dozen secret locations, from Fae to dragon spy headquarters.

  They eventually reached what Irene considered the ‘public’ face of the island – including the corridors she and Kai had wandered through previously, with their huge aquarium-type windows. The door into this section was obvious from this side, but formed an unobtrusive wall panel on the public side. And really they’d come much further than Irene had thought possible, by the time one of the guards paused, shook his head, and said, ‘Wait a moment . . .’

  Irene kidney-punched him, hit him on the back of the neck as he folded up, and pulled his gun out of his holster. She was quite pleased with their progress so far; the Language perception trick could wear off inconveniently fast. ‘All right,’ she said, as the other guard boggled at her. ‘Where are the Fae guests being held?’

  ‘Sir? But . . .’ He blinked, trying to come to terms with reality, and went pale. ‘Oh my God, you’re her. You’re Subject L.’

  Irene wondered exactly what they’d told the guards about her. His reaction seemed unnecessarily dramatic. ‘I asked you a question,’ she said, capitalizing on his fear in tones of quiet menace.

  ‘I won’t tell you anything,’ the guard muttered. ‘I am a loyal and faithful soldier.’

  ‘Look,’ Irene said patiently, ‘the camera system’s still down. Nobody can see or hear you, and there’s nobody here except you and me. And your friend. Who’s unconscious. Wouldn’t you prefer it if I went away and left you in peace? Rather than shooting holes in you? Or twisting your mind into knots?’

  ‘You’re sure the cameras are out?’ he asked tentatively.

  ‘If they weren’t, then we’d have a dozen more guards with us and I’d be back in my cell,’ Irene reassured him. ‘I give you my word. Tell me what I want to know, and I won’t kill you – or even torture you . . .’

  ‘Down that corridor, turn right, then take the third left, and the three Fae guests are in rooms next to each other,’ the guard said, so fast that he was practically babbling. ‘Madam Tina, then Mr Felix, then Mr Ernst.’

  ‘Good job,’ Irene said. ‘Now tell me what you see down the corridor there.’

  ‘I don’t see—’

  Irene hit him on the back of the head mid-phrase with the butt of the gun. That wasn’t prohibited by any promises she’d given, after all. As he collapsed, she started running.

  There were no guards outside the indicated doors. Mr Nemo must be assuming that she wouldn’t go to the Fae team members for help. Well, she certainly wasn’t going to ask Ernst, and Felix wasn’t of any immediate use, but . . .

  Irene mentally crossed her fingers and knocked on the door that she hoped was Tina’s.

  ‘Go away!’ The snarl from inside was definitely Tina’s. ‘Unless you’re here with permission for me to get the hell off this island, in which case come the hell in.’

  Irene tried the handle. It was locked – so much for them being ‘guests’. The Language took care of that.

  Tina was crouched in an armchair facing the door. Cigarette butts, wads of chewing gum and paper planes littered the floor. There was a curious sense of poised expectancy in the way that she sat there, almost like a car with its engine idling, ready to crash into movement. Her eyes widened as she took in Irene.

  ‘Has Mr Nemo given you your reward yet?’ Irene asked.

  Tina twirled a set of shiny new car keys round one finger. ‘All ready to be picked up. You wouldn’t appreciate it.’

  ‘And yet you’re still here.’

  ‘I am kind of grinding my gears here, waiting to hit the road,’ she admitted grudgingly.

  Irene nodded. ‘In that case, I might be able to help . . . I’m here about something Kai discussed with you earlier. A paid job?’ This was something Kai and Irene had discussed as one of their backup plans, days ago, when they were sitting in Vienna eating sachertorte. She prayed to any gods of the open road that they’d be on her side, in this negotiation with their acolyte.

  Tina slowly smiled. It was like watching a landscape light up as the sun rose. ‘You know, I was kind of hoping you would say that.’ She was practically vibrating now, clinging to the edge of her chair, fingers white-knuckled with the effort of holding herself in position. ‘So what am I taking and who am I taking it to?’

  Irene breathed an inner sigh of relief. ‘I’ll give you a name and an address . . .’

  Irene had congratulated herself on getting one thing done as she and Tina left the suite. It was a mistake. No sooner had the thought begun to coalesce than the two other doors in the hallway opened.

  Ernst was the first to step out, his eyebrows rising as he took in Irene’s outfit. ‘Perhaps I missed something?’ he asked.

  Felix stood in his doorway, a gun dangling loosely in his hand. But despite its support, he looked worn and anxious – as if he still hadn’t quite reclaimed his archetype.

  ‘I’m leaving,’ Tina said. She stepped out from behind Irene and waved at the two men. ‘Night-night, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite. I’ve had enough of this place. You going to stop me?’

  ‘Thinking about it,’ Ernst rumbled.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Irene said. She tried to appear imposing, despite her bikini, but she couldn’t help recalling how fast and hard Ernst could hit. ‘What was it Mr Nemo said to us? He’d allow us to leave, free and without constraints, at our own chosen time? Surely you’re not going to stop one of your own doing that.’

  Ernst shrugged philosophically. ‘Mr Nemo isn’t always right. Sometimes best solution is to knock everyone down and sort it out later. Great thinkers put it more elegantly, but I prefer my way. Also, my way is less lethal.’

  Ernst was obviously a lost cause. But Felix . . . Irene could think of bait which he wouldn’t be able to resist. ‘I’m glad you’re all right,’ she said to him. ‘I really wasn’t sure about your master plan at first, but everything seems to be working out just as you said . . .’

  Felix’s glare shifted into a slightly confused frown, though he did his best not to show it. No master schemer could ever admit to not knowing what was going on. ‘It wasn’t much,’ he said after a moment, all false modesty.

  Ernst hesitated, caught between possible targets. ‘Explain,’ he suggested.

  Irene shrugged, affecting to ignore Felix’s gun and Ernst’s balling fists. Behind her back, one hand made frantic escape now gestures at Tina. ‘You’ve probably noticed that the surveillance cameras are all out of action,’ she said to Ernst.
‘That was my part of the job.’ She nodded to Felix. ‘And you did your bit of it by making sure I could infiltrate the heart of Mr Nemo’s stronghold, as a harmless prisoner. Or should I say, apparently harmless?’ She forced herself to smile. ‘Now we’re at the stage of the plan where there’s no surveillance, everyone’s running around like panicked gerbils, and Mr Nemo’s own extensive collection is up for grabs.’ She looked Felix square in the face. ‘Like I said. Good plan.’

  It was like a reverse of that moment when she’d been in the Vienna University Library and had been confronted by Ernst and Felix. Except that this time Felix was prepared to listen, and Ernst was the suspicious one. And Felix was listening. She could see the kindling excitement in his eyes at the thought of a caper on this scale.

  Ernst coughed, reminding everyone of his looming presence. ‘Felix. This is not a good idea. What is the plan? Where is a map? Where is an escape route? Where is anything – other than Librarian in front of you with silver tongue?’

  Felix whirled to face him. In the background, Irene could hear Tina retreating at a run. Good. ‘Ernst. Remember you owe me a favour – from Galway? I’m calling it in.’

  Ernst’s face settled into lines of severe disapproval. ‘You’re going to regret this,’ he said, dropping his usual speech pattern for a moment.

  ‘Maybe so. But sometimes you’ve got to do the regrettable thing. Give us fifteen minutes, Ernst. Not more than that. That’s my favour. Then we’re even.’

  Ernst looked between Felix and Irene. He sighed. ‘Fifteen minutes. Then I take no responsibility for what happens next.’ He stepped back into his room and shut the door behind him.

  Irene could hardly believe it had been that simple. ‘You must have done something very impressive for him,’ she commented.

  ‘I picked a lock,’ Felix said briefly. ‘It was an important lock. Now are you with me on this raid, or do you have your own target?’

  ‘My own target,’ Irene answered. Tina had told her where to find Kai. ‘Tell me, did you see what was on the second canvas?’

  ‘I did,’ Felix admitted. ‘I was the one who unrolled it. But it didn’t mean anything to me. I’m guessing it’s blackmail material, or similar?’

  ‘Similar,’ Irene agreed. She was tempted to walk away and get on with rescuing Kai, but an inner prod of morality made her pause. ‘A word of advice, between temporary colleagues. I know you’ll want everyone to know how you stole it from under the noses of three dragons. But that wouldn’t end well. At all.’

  ‘Fair warning,’ Felix said gaily, and Irene knew that he hadn’t listened to a word that she’d said. ‘See you around.’

  He took off at a sprint, and Irene did the same.

  Several corridors away and a couple of levels higher up, she found the area Tina had described. It was a combination of prison cell system and sickbay. The first locked door opened on an empty room. So did the second. But the third . . .

  Kai lay on a hospital trolley at the centre of the room, unconscious. There was a medical mask and gas tube strapped to his face, and he was connected up to a couple of monitors which beeped regularly. There weren’t any guards, or tripwires that she could see, or infra-red alarm beams, or pressure pads in the floor . . . though of course, the point of such things was that intruders wouldn’t be able to see them.

  There weren’t any obvious guards either. Surely any competent guard captain, on Irene’s escape, would have assigned additional security to her possible targets. However, if she wanted to get Kai out, she was going to have to risk it.

  Irene picked her way silently across the floor, her bare feet noiseless on the concentric tiling, and reached Kai’s side. His breathing was calm and undisturbed. She suppressed a sigh of relief. Carefully she removed the breathing mask from his face, stripping off the surgical tape that held it in place with a sympathetic wince. She checked his pulse. Steady. Good. She had no idea what they’d been giving him, and she wasn’t going to sniff the gas to find out.

  When a hidden door slid open in the opposite wall to the entrance, it did so in dead silence. It was the change in the air that alerted Irene, as a cold draught brushed her bare skin. She looked up to see Indigo standing there, smiling, a remote control in her hand.

  The dragon touched a button.

  The floor under Irene fell away. She grabbed desperately at empty air: then her fingertips caught the edge of the panel she’d been standing on – which had retracted. As she swung over a gaping darkness below, her arms were already trembling with exertion. She didn’t know how long she could hold on.

  The room had been a trap, and she’d walked right into it.

  Irene struggled to pull herself up, but she didn’t have a good enough grip on the edge of the floor; she needed time and leverage, and she didn’t have either.

  Then Indigo loomed over her, silhouetted against the light. ‘Well?’ she said.

  ‘Well what?’ Irene retorted. Now she could see various cunningly intersecting panels and trapdoors covering the entire floor – their edges outlined by the light from Kai’s room. She hadn’t stood a chance. She could also hear the sound of water, deep beneath her. Memory unhelpfully supplied a full-colour replay of the last person who’d dropped into one of Mr Nemo’s shark pools. ‘Am I supposed to beg you to get me out?’ Sweat slicked her hands.

  ‘Are you deliberately trying to provoke me?’ The words were mild enough, but Indigo’s eyes burned with fury.

  ‘You’re not Fae,’ Irene said through gritted teeth. ‘So I’m guessing that you’re not here to gloat. If you’re going to offer me a hand up . . . what . . . are your . . . conditions?’

  ‘Ah.’ Indigo rested the panel’s remote on the sleeping Kai’s bed. ‘Normally I would play along. Gloating over a helpless victim is the sort of petty, time-wasting, inefficient thing that Fae get up to at their worst moments.’

  ‘Normally?’ Irene echoed. That didn’t sound good.

  ‘You made mistakes.’ There was a glint of red in Indigo’s eyes. ‘Firstly – and don’t try it again – you used your Librarian abilities to delude me.’ The air in the room prickled with static electricity, and Indigo’s hair shivered and crackled with it. ‘You dared to interfere with the functioning of my mind. You dared.’

  Irene’s heart sank. Apparently she’d escaped in precisely the way most calculated to infuriate the dragon. ‘You’re the one associating with Fae,’ she said, her fingers aching with the strain of holding onto the edge. ‘You know what they can do to emotions and perceptions. Why are you so upset with me?’

  ‘Because I thought better of you,’ Indigo said coldly. The toe of her shoe came down on the fingers of Irene’s left hand, and she began to press.

  Irene bit back a gasp of pain. She was forced to let go, leaving her suspended by just one hand over the drop. The waters below her sounded louder now. Hungrier. Could the Language help? But Indigo would never let her complete a full sentence. ‘Mistakes . . . plural?’ she forced out, her right arm burning.

  ‘You came to find him.’ Indigo pointed at Kai behind her. ‘You could have gone looking for the canvas. You could have escaped. Both actions would have been logical uses of your time and energy. Instead, you chose to come crawling to his side, a pathetically emotional display. He’s not that powerful – you couldn’t expect him to save you. You would have known that Mr Nemo would keep him safe too, as a bargaining counter. He’s not in mortal danger. And yet – you’re here. It was a waste trying to cultivate you with logic and reason. You aren’t worth my time.’

  ‘Yet you’re still here, gloating. Like a Fae.’

  ‘I think it’s therapeutic to explain to someone else how badly they got things wrong.’ Indigo smiled. Her toe moved towards Irene’s other hand.

  ‘Aren’t you going to offer me a chance to join you, in exchange for my life?’

  ‘No. You’d just lie.’

  Irene had to admit that Indigo was absolutely right on that point. She definitely had the upper hand. Th
e upper hand, the higher ground, and the lethal foot.

  When the opponent completely controls the chessboard and things can’t get worse for you, sometimes the answer is to make it worse for everyone . . .

  ‘I’ll find a more cooperative Librarian to support our faction, somewhere else, if I need one,’ Indigo went on. ‘You won’t be missed. In fact, with you gone, you’ll be that much easier to blame.’

  ‘Tell me,’ Irene gasped, ‘what’s the thing you know?’

  Indigo paused. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You knew about. Painting . . . You have some idea – what it means. What came before . . . dragon monarchs?’

  Indigo’s mouth curled into a cruel smile. ‘You’re thinking that because you’re about to die, I’m going to tell you all my secrets. Mistake. I’m not a Fae. I’m a dragon. And very soon I’m going to be a ruler.’

  Her foot came down.

  Irene couldn’t hold on. The pain was too great. But as her grip slipped, she shouted, ‘Panels, trapdoors, open!’

  Indigo’s eyes widened in shock. She was already moving as Irene finished her second word, throwing herself towards the door. But she’d come too far into the room, and all the floor panels and trapdoors opened at once And with the floor effectively gone, everything in the room dropped into darkness – Irene, Indigo, Kai, trolley, and all.

  As she dropped, Irene hit some kind of chute and she could hear Indigo screaming in fury above. There were scrapes and a thud, perhaps from Kai’s trolley – and the light above vanished as the floor panels closed again. Irene could guess what would come next. She held her breath.

  There was light – a blaze of it, electric, violent, eye-searing – and open air. And then water.

  The impact was disorienting. Irene felt herself sinking, but she was too dizzy to be sure of anything else. She forced her eyes open and spread her limbs to slow her drop downwards. She was drifting in seawater – the open ocean? No, a confined pool, though a large one – and above her she could see two other blurred figures in the water. One had long hair that drifted around her, the other was tumbling like a rag doll in slow motion. In the distance, sleek shadows moved through the water, sliding ever closer.