Alexa Mackintosh
goods, take up the bottom floor of most of the complexes. A few men stand outside of one five doors down, but the street is otherwise deserted.
Striding past the buildings, I dispel my fear. Fear can be sensed, and weakness will not help us here. I should be afraid, but already my hands are tingling and my mind fo- cusing on the sensation in my mouth.
This is my gift and the reason I bake. I bake to hide my mother’s and my poisons. Before the Mersiovskys took over, there was a power passed from generation to gener- ation in families. It differed, but for my mother and I, and all females in our family for as far back as we knew, had the gift of death.
We were widely known as Death’s Apothecaries, and several thousand of us existed around the planet. But the Mersiovskys outlawed all gifts under the pretense of gifts being black magic, and named it “the Cursed Law.” Any- one practicing their gift will be killed.
If I try hard enough, I can sense every drop of poison in the White City, and that’s how I know there’s a vial of yin taken from the stem of the flower by the same name three doors down. That’s how I also know a First on Rotala Square is about to die from poison carefully painted on the inside of his shoes. But that is someone else’s problem. I’ll read about it tomorrow in the papers. The yin is my concern.
City of Deception
I missed the poison in the restaurant all those weeks ago because I wasn’t looking. Today, my senses are as po- tent as I can make them.
When we reach the door, I enter first. The building is poorly lit and incense burns on a table in the corner. Sev- eral men loiter at the counter speaking with, what I can only guess, is the proprietor. They turn to look our way.
I recognize their kind. Poor and desperate, but not too dangerous. They are lower level criminals, probably drug smugglers and petty thieves.
“I think you’re in the wrong store,” a man says.
“I assure you we are in the right place. I’m looking for yin,” I say.
“Yin? We don’t carry it. It’s illegal,” the proprietor says.
“You have it.” I stroll across the shop and run a finger along a closed drawer.
“Leave that alone,” the proprietor demands.
My fingers tingle. Sliding open the drawer, several small vials pour forward. None are labeled, but the clear liquid in the fourth vial calls to me.
I hold it up. “What is this then?”
“A project of mine. Nothing special,” the proprietor says.
“I know yin, sir, and I wish to buy it. Will fourteen gold pieces do?” I ask.
Alexa Mackintosh
The proprietor opens his mouth to answer, but another man says, “You’re not welcome here. Go before we must remove you.”
The man beside him elbows him in the ribs. “The las- sies might make our night more interesting.” He doesn’t hide his leering eyes as they fall on me before moving to Angelica.
Normally, I’d be afraid of them, but I feel nothing.
I spare a glance Angelica’s way. “We can take care of these problems, can’t we?”
Her jaw drops. My suggestion doesn’t frighten her; it frightens her I am willing to carry it out.
We have our signals, designed after years of friendship and training for the rebellion. Her hand flicks, and within a heartbeat, she has the first man on the floor. It takes another heartbeat before she slits his throat.
A man comes at me, a few inches shorter than the dead one. I’m not a good fighter, but I can bring a man to his knees.
With a few well-placed kicks and quick twists, I man- age to get above him, his face pressed to the ground. I close my eyes as Angelica steps over the first body towards the man in my grasp. He cries out, cursing us at first be- fore begging for mercy.
But we show none.
We need the poison to change the planet’s fate. One man’s death is a small price.
City of Deception
I’ve heard the cries of dying men before. I’ll block this memory out along with all the other bad ones. I’m not breaking my promise to not kill if Angelica fells the death blow.
The man goes slack, and I let go.
I turn to the proprietor who stands ready with a gun. “Shoot one of us, but you cannot get to both of us before we reach you. If you don’t wish to meet Death today, you must run out the back door now. Attack us and we will kill you. No one will know we were the ones to do this if you run now. Wouldn’t it ruin your reputation as a drug dealer if it got out two girls did this in your shop? Run, and you can make up any story you like. Perhaps half a dozen men stormed in and took things because of…well, you’re smart enough to come up with a reason.”
He hesitates, but doesn’t step away.
“I have men outside. They will be less kind then us,” Angelica says.
We’ve no men outside, but he doesn’t need to know that.
Slowly, he backs away, the gun focused on us. When he reaches the back door, he fires a shot. The shot misses and buries deep in the door. It was nothing more than a warn- ing shot, not an accidental miss.
Strolling around the bodies and puddles of blood, I pick up the vial of yin, pausing to study the other things in the drawer. Most of the poisons are common, but there is a special brew of yallow seeds, the blue liquid and the
Alexa Mackintosh
white seeds floating about giving its variety away. I slip it in my pocket.
Never know when I might need poison again. “Finished?” Angelica asks. “A neighbor or passerby
must have heard us.”
“Not on this street. We’re good for an hour or two at least after the crime is reported to authorities. I guess the bodies won’t be found until they start to smell, so a day or two. Three at most in this heat. The police won’t give the investigation much time as these are criminals on a noto- rious street.” I hold up my gloved hands. “We’ve taken precautions as well, so they’ll resort to the media to find the killer. In a few days’ time, the Emperor’s death will take up the headlines and these poor fellows won’t get more than a paragraph mention on page 3b, and that’s only if the police are really interested.”
Angelica laughs. “Studied for this, have you?”
I shrug. “I’ve had a lot of time in the palace to plot and plan. Time I finally act. Besides I had a good teacher in the art of assassination.”
She smiles. She’s the best teacher for any kind of un- derhanded dealings.
“Now, why don’t we see what weapons might be be- hind that counter?”
{ 21 }
Chapter 21
ive Days Later:
THE CLEAR LIQUID BUBBLES OVER THE HEAT. The
yan is bitter and odorless, but the fumes are strong enough to make someone sick.
I can lean over the pot all day and be fine. Another perk of my gift. I might cough a little tomorrow, but poisons only affect me mildly.
As it boils down, I mix the last batch of batter and whip up the frosting. Finishing, I remove the yan from the heat. It’s boiled down from a liquid to a fine powder, much the consistency of flour. Scraping it from the bottom of the pan, I add it to the batter and stir.
The batter swallows it, looking far more delicious than it will be. I make one cupcake this time, by far my best.
Alexa Mackintosh
In an hour, it’s baked and cooled, and I frost it with edible gold. When all is done, I’m exhausted, and my fin- gers stick together, and sugary goop covers my apron.
Wrapping it in a box, I carefully set it aside while I clean up. I’ve been fortunate not to have anyone enter the kitchen. Even the assistant Dmitri hired for me was away today because it’s her day off.
It’s all gone perfectly.
s
To convince the Royals I had nothing to do with the poisoning, I send the gift off with a guard half an hour before dinner. I wanted to send it off with Petrov, but I couldn’t risk the Royals suspecting him. If anyone gets blamed, it must be an unknown. The p
oison should make Sergio have a heart attack, but one can never be too care- ful.
Last night I sent the cupcake up to the Emperor’s room to set things up tonight. They won’t suspect anything dif- ferent tonight this way. I don’t want Sergio dying in front of his children, and that’s why I sent it up. I’m not heart- less after all.
I’m almost ready for dinner when there’s a knock.
“I’ll get it!” Georgianna says, leaving my side for a mo- ment.
I steal myself for the news. I must be surprised.
Ivan enters, eyes glossed over and wide. “The Empress is dead.”
City of Deception
“What do you mean she’s dead?” I question, dropping the earrings clutched in my palm.
“Apparently, she ate the pastry you made. She wanted to try it and took a bite, and…and a little while later she passed out. Sergio was with her and thought she fainted, but she was dead.”
Oh no.
I gasp. “My cupcake? How dare you insinuate I killed her? I didn’t like her, but I wouldn’t hurt her!”
Ivan doesn’t have time to say anything else before Ser- gio storms into the room.
The Emperor reaches out and clutches my hair. My scalp burns as he jerks me to my knees and yanks my head back. “How could you do this?” He goes on to curse me for a few seconds.
Ivan grabs the Emperor’s arm. “Let go of her.”
The Emperor whips around and backhands Ivan. “She killed my wife. She receives no mercy from me.”
Before either can react, they freeze. Nikki appears three feet away.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“You made a mistake I didn’t foresee. It’s hard to be unique. I’ve seen every mistake in the timelines, but I’ve never seen the Empress die like this.” Nikki steps forward and wrestles the Emperor’s hand out of my hair. “I froze time for a minute. It’s my newest invention. I could have taken care of this problem on my own, but I thought I should teach you a little about time travel.”
Alexa Mackintosh I rise to my feet. “You’re here to…?”
“Fix the timeline. The Empress isn’t meant to die. I
would have taken care of it like I always have, but I was afraid you would be confused if I didn’t explain. Once I change it, you will remember this event, but to everyone else, it will be nonexistent. You and I will be the only ones to remember this. Ready?”
I nod.
She presses the device on her wrist.
Everything darkens for a few seconds before I reap- pear at my dresser, Georgianna behind me braiding my hair. “Would you like flowers or pearls in your hair?”
How does Nikki do things like this? “Miss?”
“Pearls,” I answer, voice faint. “Um…How are the Roy- als?”
Her hands still. “Fine, I believe. You saw them earlier today.”
Did I? Nikki must have changed a few of the day’s events.
Glancing at the window, I realize it’s morning.
Georgianna clucks her tongue and turns my head back to toward the mirror.
Morning? It was dinner before Nikki.
Ivan enters unannounced. He doesn’t even knock. “Ready for lunch?”
It doesn’t look that late. “We’re having lunch?”
City of Deception
He frowns. “We agreed to it last night at dinner. Did you forget?”
“No, of course not.” I stand. “Tie off my braid. I’ll leave it down today so we can go.”
“After we eat, would you go with me to Vera’s grave?” he asks.
Georgianna and I stood still.
“You want me to go along?” I ask skeptically.
“Today is the anniversary of her death. I could think of no one else I wanted to take to see her.” His eyes soften minutely. “You are going to be my wife. Vera was one of my best friends, and you are soon to be my closest friend. I just…I would like to share this with you.”
I’m surprised by his honesty. “I’ll come, Your High- ness.”
But even as he offers the invitation with kind words, his expression reveals the lie. He doesn’t wish for me to come.
His eyes mirror my hatred. There is no love between us.
{ 22 }
Chapter 22
wo Hours Later:
WE REACH THE TREES AT MIDDAY. I’ve heard sto-
ries of the Gravelands but never imagined them like this. Several centuries before, when our kind used too many resources, the land became limited. To fix the lack of re- sources, the government started initiatives where any- thing metal was constructed of recycled metal pieces. They also began burying the dead in one place and called it the Gravelands. Now, the Gravelands spread out for miles in front of us.
A small tree marks each grave. I have never seen so many trees in one place before. I’m not sure the forests are this massive.
“I want all of the servants and guards to stay here,” Ivan says.
Alexa Mackintosh
“But we are ordered to stay with you by the Emperor,” a guard says.
“You may continue to watch us, but stay out of our view and do not come close enough to hear us.”
Ivan starts walking down a small path. We walk for some distance, and as we pass through the trees, I listen to the chirping birds and small animals scurrying away from us. Everything is still and unimaginably quiet.
We stop when we reach a grave marked by a flowering, pink tree. Ivan says nothing, but I can see from his face that this is Vera’s grave. A hologram of a woman appears at the head of the grave. Every grave has a hologram pic- ture of the deceased so that there is never doubt as to which grave belongs to whom.
The problem is I’ve met this woman.
Months after her death. Vera looks like Nikki.
“Are you alright?” Ivan asks.
“I was thinking about how young she was,” I lie. “Tell me, when did she die again?”
“A while back now. Her death was unexpected.”
Could she have faked her death? I chide myself. Why would she have done that? She was happy and soon to be married.
Unless there’s something no one told me.
My mind spins as I think of possibilities. The Mer- siovskys, especially Dmitri, would know if she lived.
Why do the two women look like twins?
City of Deception
I realize this is the wrong time to be thinking such thoughts, so I tell myself to investigate later. We stand for a minute in silence before I ask Ivan another question.
“What did you think of her?”
He sighs. “She was an amazing, young woman.”
He pulls a single blue flower from his pocket and kisses it before bending down to lay it on her grave. He stays on his knees for a minute before standing again. “Look at the hologram. Does she not look…perfect?”
“Did you know her well? I would think she stayed with Dmitri most of the time.”
He scowls again. “Don’t say the name Dmitri again to me. Vera had to put up with that wretched boy, and for that, I am truly sorry.”
“You think you would have been better for her?” I ask.
His ego is astounding! What a fool.
“I know I would have been. You don’t know Dmitri, Natalia. You think you do, but you don’t. His parents con- trol everything, including their sons.”
Instead of arguing with him, I ask, “Can you tell me more about Vera?”
“She was an orphan before the Ashworth’s took her in and gave her the title of princess. They raised her to be a lady and learned that she was a brilliant scientist and mathematician. She worked alongside the Royal scientists for some time, and when her work and Royal title brought her to our country, the Ashworth’s arranged a marriage
Alexa Mackintosh
that benefited them. Vera didn’t despise the idea of an ar- ranged marriage, but she didn’t love Dmitri. It became clear that she loved someone other than him.”
He tells me so much, and I wonder
if I can believe it.
Did Vera really love someone else?
“I believe her death wasn’t an accident, Natalia, but even I have my limits of power. No one can prove that she was killed.”
“A Royal murdered, and no one knows? That is hard to believe.”
“If you find that hard to believe than life in the capital will be difficult for you. Soon you will learn of things that you cannot fathom.”
Before we can continue our conversation, a guard runs into view. Out of breath, the guard struggles to form his words. “Your Highness, we received word to escort you back to the palace immediately.”
“Why?” Ivan demands.
“The Emperor is dying. He had a heart attack,” the guard says.
Ivan’s face goes blank, neither fear or grief marring his features. He looks to me, and I meet his gaze.
When his father dies, Ivan becomes Emperor. I become the Empress once we marry.
He’s going to lose his adoptive father and his freedom in a single day.
{ 23 }
Chapter 23
“HOW WAS THE FUNERAL?” GEORGIANNA ASKS.
Emperor Sergio Mersiovsky passed on yesterday morning. The Firsts and foreign dignitaries flooded in last night, and this morning accompanied the Royal fam- ily to the Gravelands.
Though I stood by Ivan and Dmitri the entire time, neither said a word. They also didn’t shed a tear.
While the Empress cried, her oldest sons were stoic. I don’t know why, but I assume with the death of their fa- ther, the dispute between Dmitri and Ivan will increase. Kir was the only son genuinely upset.
General Hardcastle questioned me about how the poi- son got into the cupcake, but after I told him it was not in
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