by Nyna Queen
He dipped the rest of the cookie into his coffee and chewed thoughtfully. “The Sauniers have been rather quiet these past weeks—maybe a little too quiet when I think about it—yet the family is well situated and can call in many old favors. If they were to time it well, they could raise a lot of votes in a pinch.”
“Anyone else?” Darken asked. “What about Anoura?”
Stephane shook his head. “She wishes, but not in a million years. She’s been too much of a weather vane lately and the voters want to see some kind of position when it comes to the most important matters. Also, it was just revealed that her only son is a member of the Tharsis-down movement. That’s a scandal she won’t quickly recover from.”
All those names meant nothing to Alex, but that was neither here nor there. Living in halfborn slums, she didn’t exactly pay much attention to trueborn politics, unless something shaper-related boiled up, like Manor Creek.
Stephane’s face took on a deeply predatory quality. “Then, of course, there is Roukewood.”
“He’s a radical!” Darken spat, looking even more disgusted than his brother.
“Yes,” Stephane inclined his head, “he is. But is he a radical with a chance to win the election?” He lifted his shoulders. “His rigorous anti-shaper politic is currently enjoying great popularity. Especially after the incident in Manor Creek. The people are afraid of the shaper population and fear always inspires the radicals. He's virtually promoting that his province is shaper-free. If it were up to him, he would round them all up and shoot them down.” His eyes skimmed over Alex, slightly apologetic. “His winning the election would be a surprise but I’ve seen stranger things happen.”
Alex swallowed a groan. This was getting better and better. A crazy shaper-hater on the way to ruling the South? Great! Anything else?
Stephane nodded to himself, tapping the table. “It would have to be one of those three. None of the other candidates has the necessary means or backing to have a realistic chance at winning.”
He and Darken exchanged a long look.
Alex felt her patience snap. “Well, then what are you waiting for? Report them. Launch an investigation.” She waved a hand. “Have them interrogated or whatever it is the guardaí do in cases like this.”
The look Stephane gave her was almost pained. “It’s … not as easy as that.”
“What do you mean, not easy?” Alex asked, her frustration crystallizing into anger. “Seems pretty easy to me: One of those fuckers orchestrated an abduction attempt on your children and almost got them killed on the way. At least a dozen people died in the crossfire. Not to mention that they tried to frame innocent people for murder.”
Innocent as in “herself.” What the hell more could they need?
“Supposedly,” Stephane said softly, and then quickly raised a hand to interrupt Alex’s sharp protest. “All I’m saying is that we don’t have positive proof for any of this. As compelling as our theory might be, it remains a theory and we don’t have any hard evidence of the involvement of any of my opponents at all.
“All I have at the moment is the word of two children who can be easily discounted as too traumatized by the events to testify—believe me, I’ve seen this happen before—a shaper who is wanted for murder, and a forfeit widely known to be more loyal to his family than to the state. They won’t exactly fall over themselves to open an investigation on this basis. And the only other witnesses who could have testified that someone is trying to denounce my candidacy are feeding the crows at the edge of the Pacified Zone.”
Darken’s face turned glacial. “I lost control.” His deep voice was clipped. “Don’t say it’s never happened to you.”
“Be that as it may, it still leaves us without any kind of objective evidence. If I approach the department and ask them to open a case on these grounds, I’ll be lucky if they just laugh in my face. Even under normal circumstances, this would be a stretch. But an investigation against all of my major opponents? At this stage of the election campaign? In the best case, they’ll paint me up as naive and hysterical and deeply frightened of my fellow campaigners. At worst, they’ll proclaim that I hatched up this scheme to denounce my opponents and ensure my victory in the election. In any case, I fear it won’t get us anywhere, except into the newspaper headlines.”
Stephane sighed. “And even if I somehow got them to open a case, it would be public before the investigation had even started. My opponents would know about it the moment the order hit the table, giving them all the time in the world to prepare their defense. Accusing a member of the royal elite of crimes like these isn’t like accusing some slob of theft. These are highly established people with pedigree and money and supporters. I’m not saying this makes them untouchable, but it does make them very hard to convict.” He rubbed his forehead. “The Sauniers have connections in almost all high houses through some kind of family relation and Alistair Devilier is a cousin of the prime’s wife. I would have to use all of my influence, my family name, and reputation, just to get a foot in the door and that wouldn't mean that it would lead to anything. More likely, the investigation would drag on and eventually peter out, forcing me to publicly apologize and announce my resignation.”
Alex stared at him, stunned. This just couldn’t be.
On their way here she hadn’t spent much time thinking on the “if” and “how,” simply focused on the task of surviving the next few hours, yet some part of her had naively hoped that if she managed to get this far, all of her problems would magically be sorted out with a snap of this man’s fingers. Of course, it wasn’t so easy. It never was. Now it felt like everything was slowly falling apart around her, like some kind of illusion paint, crumbling off the walls of naked, cold reality.
Alex’s mind ran in circles, frantically looking for a way out. The people in the Bin would never back her up, not a shaper. And Mitja, the only person she could hope would be on her side, had already publicly admitted that he hadn’t seen what had happened. And what trueborn official would listen to a bunch of down-at-heel halfborns, anyway?
She swallowed. “Perhaps Blayde could—”
Stephane’s head snapped up, eyes hard as emeralds. “Don’t even mention that name!” he growled. “He’s an outlaw who plays by his own set of rules. Dragging him into this would only weaken our standing further.”
Alex drew back. The last bit of stable ground dropped out from under her.
“So that’s it?” She couldn’t believe it. She felt so cheated by fate she could scream. “You’ll just leave it at that? What about your children? What about me?” Their political intrigues were one thing, but for her, her life was still in the balance.
Stephane blinked in surprise as though the thought hadn’t even occurred to him yet. Probably hadn’t.
Yes, yes, your trueborn highness, other people have issues too! Like staying alive!
The senator straightened and performed a small bow in her direction. “I do apologize for my lack of consideration. My family owes you our gratitude.”
That and a dime will get me a cup of coffee!
He hesitated. “If you decide to plead your case to the High Court, I won’t stop you and I see it as my duty of honor to give you what assistance we can. However, as I said, I’m afraid the odds with what we have right now are not in our favor.” He must have seen the consternation on her face because he added: “Of course, you can stay here while you heal and recover. And after that, I will write you a writ of innocence in the name of my office but—”
“But” was never good.
“But?”
He sighed. “It doesn’t hold any authority outside of Lancaester and since a murder case is a case of state interest, should you be arrested, even within these boundaries, it won’t stop the guardaí from turning you in to their central department to be tried.”
“Fat lot of use it’ll do me then,” Alex said bitterly.
“I apologize that I cannot offer you anything better at this point.” Stephane soun
ded sincere enough. Not that that helped her in any way. Sweet Jester, this couldn’t be happening.
“As for what you said,” Stephane added sharply, “I certainly do not plan to simply sit on my hands! I may not get a search warrant or an official observation order, but rest assured that I will set private men onto all of them. Maybe during the coming weeks, one of them will make a mistake. And, perhaps, if I win the election and become governor, with my new authority I will have greater leverage—”
“And if you don’t?” Alex ignored Darken’s warning glance. Why didn’t he say something for a change? “Do you really think whoever is behind this will back down now? Now that they’ve actually got you by the balls?”
Everybody around the table flinched at her choice of words. She couldn’t have cared less at the moment.
Darken sighed. “She’s right, Steph.”—Why, thank you!—“We cannot afford to wait. You’re threatened, brother, and you know it. The people behind this already put a lot of risk and effort into this. It is highly unlikely that they will back out now that your position is in actual jeopardy. What do you want to do? Keep the children locked up ‘till the end of the election? Stop going to any public events? In that case, they have already won.”
His brother bared his teeth. “If you have a better proposal, I’m all ears!”
“What would you need?”
Stephane glared at Alex. “Excuse me?”
Alex hooked a blond strand behind one ear, trying to get her smarts together. There had to be something they could do.
“What would you need to get an official investigation, with all that shit you mentioned?”
Stephane rubbed the back of his neck. “A confession would be great. But at this point, I would settle for some kind of credible proof. Something we could show the department that would at least suggest the involvement of my opponents.” He sighed. “If we could at least narrow it down to one of them …” He shook his head. “Yet, as I said, getting access to them is next to impossible.”
“Maybe that won’t be necessary.”
“What are you suggesting?”
Alex’s smile held a sweet, malicious edge. “I’m a spider, sugar. We usually spin a web and wait until our victims entangle themselves in its threads.”
Darken raised an eyebrow. “You’re talking about laying a trap?”
Alex shrugged lightly. “In my experience, if you put enough pressure on a kettle it eventually pops.” She shrugged again. “If we cannot expose them with what we have, perhaps we can force them to give us exactly what we need.”
Stephane rubbed his chin skeptically. “A web like that would have to be woven with great care or we’ll just strangle ourselves with it.” He tapped his fingers together. “Even if we came up with some kind of bait—and that would have to be some exceptionally sweet bait—how could we spring it on all of them? The best way would be to have them all together in the same place, yet I don’t really see—”
“What about the Summerball?”
Everybody turned to look at Josy who had been so quiet, Alex had almost forgotten she was still there. The girl shrunk in her chair under the sudden attention and blushed.
“I-I just thought—I mean it is the biggest event before the elections, right?” she stammered. “The entire royal elite attends, anybody who is anybody, even the prime himself. And don’t you always say it’s where the contestants in election years consolidate their final alliances and try to win over last supporters, Daddy? They wouldn’t let such a chance slip, would they?”
Her father looked flabbergasted but Darken smiled. “I like the way your daughter is thinking, brother. She’s taking after you in that regard. There are plenty of occasions during the Summerball where all participants are forced together: the prime’s grand entry, the evening banquet … It would be the perfect place to strike. And soon. In—what? Three weeks?”
“Two and a half,” Josy corrected with a shy smile.
Stephane still didn’t seem fully convinced—you could tell he was the politician of the two brothers: Darken reacted and Stephane cautioned.
“Even if I got Eady on board, the palace is too big to keep track of all of them throughout the entire event and there are various off-limit areas where we could not follow at all, like the assigned suites, just to name one example.”
Alex rolled her eyes. “You’re trueborns. Surely, you can knock out some magical solution for that.”
Stephane shook his head. “The palace is warded against the use of high-end magic. Most spells and magic gadgets of a certain energy level don’t work in there—if you can get them through the entrance controls in the first place. It wouldn’t do to have an assassin teleport right into the middle of the palace. That’s why most of the palace is magic-proof.”
“Is it also shaper-proof?” The words were out before Alex could stop them. This time, all eyes turned toward her and she wished she had stopped to think before speaking up.
She moved her shoulders defensively. “I’m not bound to the ground like you are. Wards don’t necessarily stop me. I can follow people almost anywhere and I can listen in to conversations from quite a distance.”
Stephane’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you even propose something so risky?”
Alex leaned forward, her blue eyes cutting ice. “Sugar, after all we just went through, I see it like this: I can either keep running and hiding and hoping that they might forget about me after a couple of years—rather unlikely in a murder case of this scale—or I can help you pull out this evil root once and for all and at least have a shot at a normal life.” As normal as a shaper’s life could be, anyway. “Or can you guarantee that if I get caught, I will get a fair trial with a serious chance to redeem myself?”
The senator’s lips pressed together. “I’m afraid I can’t.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“This could actually work,” Darken interrupted them, studying Alex thoughtfully and then facing his brother. “She certainly has the looks. It’s still more than two weeks. With a bit of prepping and a little polishing …”
Wait. What?
“… we could introduce her as an old childhood friend of Edalyne’s. Or better, use Mother as a contact.”
“Oh no. No no no no no. No.” Alex wildly shook her head. “I was talking about sneaking in. Not about—whatever this is you’re suggesting.”
Darken placed both hands on the table in front of him, leaning over, a mocking smile tugging at his lips. “Sweetheart, nobody sneaks into the Royal Palace. Not even a sneaky little spider like you.”
Little spider? Oh, you—Wait! Did he say Royal Palace? The Palace? As in Crona Palace?
“The palace is one of the best-warded places within the entire realm,” Darken confirmed her unanswered question. “The security measures make the wards around Gomorrha look like kindergarten.”
Suddenly Alex wasn’t so keen on getting into this place at all. She’d just have to run and hope she somehow survived.
“Alright,” she muttered and raised a hand. “Forget I said anything.”
Stephane looked at Darken. “Do you really believe she could manage? This is the elite we’re talking about.”
Darken frowned. “I’m sure Mother can whip her into shape in time. But we would still need that bait. I’ll have to make an appearance at the Order in the next few days, anyway. Between Belaris and myself, I’m sure we can come up with something.”
Alex raised her voice. “I said: Forget it!”
Completely ignoring her, Stephane addressed Josy. “What do you think?”
As if she wasn’t even there! Exactly like his freaking brother!
Josy swallowed and threw a quick side glance at Alex. “We’d have to work on posture and manners. And a little language schooling wouldn’t hurt, either … but,” she chewed on her lower lip, “it might be possible.”
You’ve got to be kidding me!
“Very well.” Stephane rubbed his hands together. “That’s decid
ed then. I must prepare a statement to the press—”
“Are you even listening to me?” Alex jumped up from her chair, shaking with outrage. “I said I’m out! This is insane. I cannot pose as a trueborn.”
True, that little PO pup in front of Gomorrha had swallowed her act but, let’s be honest, he was only a halfborn and he’d seen her for half a second through a car window. Rubbing elbows with the creme de la creme of the trueborn elite was way out of her comfort zone. “I might be a little desperate but I’m not suicidal. So forget it!”
The look Stephane graced her with gave her serious chills. There was no give in those eyes. This was the face of the senator of Lancaester. She suddenly understood why he could make it to governor.
“Didn’t you just say your only way out of this mess was to pull out this evil by its root?”
Alex opened her mouth and closed it again.
“Well, here is your only chance. You’re lucky, the shovel comes for free. Welcome aboard, gardener!”
And just like that, Alex had managed to entangle herself in her own web. Great, Alex. Congrats!
“I’m a freaking shaper,” she said flatly. “I won't even get through the entrance control.”
Darken gave her a lazy smile that sent her hackles up. “Just let that be our worry.”
DARKEN lowered the papers he had been reading when his brother shouldered his way from his private study into the family parlor and heavily fell into one of the huge armchairs. He let out a hearty sigh.
Darken put the records down on a low glass table and strolled over, resting his lower arms on the backrest of his brother’s chair.
Stephane rubbed his face with both hands and gave him a weary glance.
“It was the kiddo,” he said, indicating the door of his study where he’d been on a call for the past half hour. “He heard about what happened on the news, naturally. I knew this would leak in no time.” His lips pressed together. “The kid was beyond himself. Wanted to know if the children are alright. He also wanted to come over right away.”
