Proxy: An Avalon Novella

by Mindee Arnett

  Satisfied with his orientation, Jeth headed deeper into the crowd, looking for a way to pass the time. As he moved, he scanned the faces, keeping a lookout for security in plainclothes. In seconds he identified two definites and a third maybe. The maybe was a big dude, the bulge of his thick muscles visible through his long-sleeved shirt. He looked too old to be a contemporary of the princess and too rough around the edges to be a rich relative or other noble. Yet he also didn’t match the other two, a blunt axe in a pile of ceremonial daggers.

  For a second Jeth thought the man noticed him, and he turned away, heading for cover among the dancers. He meant to just pass through them, but before he knew it, a girl in a yellow dress grabbed him by the hand and pulled him into a dance. Jeth considered brushing her off, but she was pretty and smelled good.

  Even more enticing was the solid gold bracelet hanging loose on her wrist. It would fetch a price back home, and so long as his extracurricular activities didn’t interfere with Hammer’s business or profits, Jeth was free to pinch what he could. Every little bit helped him in his quest to make Avalon his own.

  But then he remembered Lizzie’s presence and his vow not to take any unnecessary chances. Dammit.

  The girl, tipsy enough to be unsteady in her high heels, didn’t notice his disappointment as she yanked the champagne glass out of his hand, downed the rest of it in one gulp, and tossed the empty glass to a passing waiter, who barely caught it. Then she dragged Jeth forward, pressing her body against his as she began to dance. Shrugging, Jeth went with it. There were less entertaining ways to pass the time.

  He stayed on the dance floor more than thirty minutes, dancing with a string of different girls before finally ditching the last and slipping away. He made a beeline for the nearest buffet table, where he’d been intending to go before the girl in the yellow dress had waylaid him. He hadn’t gotten to pilot, and he wasn’t about to pass up the only other decent part of this job. Jeth helped himself to cheese, grapes, some kind of meat on a stick—real meat, not the imitation stuff, which was all he could afford at the spaceport he called home—and a bread roll doused in butter.

  Oh, the perks of the job.

  Even though he knew he might regret it later, Jeth made a second pass, grazing through the platters he’d skipped the first time. He finished up with a strawberry that he dipped in a fountain of warm liquid chocolate for several seconds before popping it into his mouth.

  “One might think you only came for the food.”

  Jeth flinched, caught by surprise by the female voice in the sudden lull in the music. It wasn’t often someone got so close to him without his noticing.

  He turned around, a retort falling out of his mouth automatically. “Well, it’s not like I came for the prin”—he sputtered as his eyes connected with the stranger’s, a girl close to his age, and easily the prettiest thing he’d seen tonight—“cess.”

  Some nameless expression crossed her face before amusement curved her lips. “Yes, well who could blame you? The princess is not known for either her beauty or her sweetness.”

  Jeth blinked, not understanding at first. He was too distracted by…by…well, he wasn’t quite sure what had caught him so off guard. Sure, this girl was undeniably gorgeous in a way that even Celeste would envy, with her brown hair hanging in artful ringlets and her large eyes the color of amber. And the dress she wore—shell pink and clinging to her body in that way only silkwater could—revealed enough planes and curves to make a Grakkian monk think twice about chastity vows. But Jeth didn’t think it was any of those things. Or at least not only those things. He suspected it might be the devilish look he detected in her eyes as she ran her gaze over him.

  Suddenly aware that his mouth was open, Jeth clamped it shut with an audible clank. Wincing, he cleared his throat. “I take it you know the princess?”

  “Me?” The girl’s eyebrows rose. “No, not really. But I’ve heard the rumors, same as you, I expect.”

  Jeth grabbed a glass of champagne and took a sip, giving the girl another look. She certainly seemed rich enough to walk in the same circles as the princess.

  “Um, Longshot?” Jeth jumped at the sudden intrusion of Lizzie’s voice and spilled more than a bit of his drink. “You need to make the pickup. No time for romance.”

  Jeth grimaced, overwhelmed with an urge to throttle her. Last time Liz gets to run the comm. Ever. He forced a smile to his lips as he took a napkin and wiped himself off. “That’s probably five thousand unis’ worth of imperial champagne I just dumped down my shirt.”

  The girl laughed, a surprisingly confident, full-bodied sound. Jeth felt a grin try to overtake him and fought it back. Like it or not, he needed to give this rich girl the cold shoulder. Shame: he suspected she would be a lot of fun if he had the time to spare.

  “Anyway, nice talking to you.” Jeth turned and walked away before she could respond. Glancing around, he identified the eastern wall once more and headed toward it.

  A few more buffet tables bordered this side of the room, but he avoided them. Instead he grabbed another glass and settled for an open area near the corner. He stood there, facing the dance floor with his drink in his hand, attempting to look uninterested.

  Jeth pressed his finger to the communicator patch. “I’m in position.” He lowered his hand, waiting for a confirmation. When several seconds went by, he pressed it again. “Little Hawk? You there?”

  “We’re here,” Lizzie came back, and Jeth flinched at the thundering crackle of static that punctuated her words. He resisted the urge to detach the communicator patch from his ear just to get it to stop.

  “What the hell was that?” he said once things had quieted.

  He regretted the question as the noise sounded again when Lizzie replied, “Something’s wrong with one of the relays. Think it’s going down.”

  The sound faded once more but left his head ringing. Jeth pressed the link. “I’ll leave the connection up but don’t talk to me until you get it sorted out. That noise is enough to split my head open.”

  Trying to regain his composure, Jeth took another sip of champagne, too aware of how fast his heart was beating and how shallowly his breaths moved in and out. Technology failure was the one thing certain to damage his cool. Too much depended on it working properly. And when it went sideways, there was nothing he could do about it. He didn’t possess the skills for working tech. He hated feeling powerless.

  Moments later Jeth caught sight of Celeste as she entered the ballroom from the far door. She spotted him at once, but no sign of recognition appeared on her face aside from the initial lock of her gaze on his. She took her time crossing the room toward him, stopping here and there to offer drinks from her tray.

  Jeth marveled at her balance. Her ability to carry that thing without spilling was one of the reasons she’d taken that part of the job. He surely would’ve doused the first person he came across.

  Jeth glanced away from Celeste, trying to look bored again. He checked his watch—six minutes to go. He wanted to ask if Shady and Flynn were in place—they’d better be soon, or they’d miss their only chance at disguising the noise of the explosion as they blew a hole through the grate into the sewer beneath the palace—but Jeth resisted the temptation. As with the issue with the relay, there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

  Jeth looked back at Celeste, wondering what was taking so long. Any minute now the party hosts would start herding the guests outside for the fireworks display set to signal the official arrival of the princess’s sixteenth birthday. Celeste’s eyes locked on his once more, but this time she glared at him.

  Jeth arched an eyebrow, not understanding. In answer, Celeste raised her hand to her mouth. Jeth shook his head, still not getting it. Then he looked down at the nearly full drink in his hand and realization dawned. She couldn’t very well offer to take his glass for him if it wasn’t empty.

  Grimacing at his blunder, Jeth raised the glass to his lips and drank the rest of the champagne in
one gulp. The liquid burned and bubbled down his throat and into his belly. Thank goodness he’d eaten.

  As he wiped the back of his mouth, Celeste finally reached him. “Take that for you, sir?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Jeth set his glass on the tray beside two other empties.

  “You’re welcome.” As she spoke, Celeste’s grip on the tray slipped and it crashed to the ground, the clatter muffled by the music and noise of the crowd. Fortunately, all the glasses were shatterproof.

  Jeth and Celeste both knelt at the same time, their actions well rehearsed. As Celeste moved to pick up the tray with one hand, she reached inside her right boot with the other, pulling out the small, collapsible wrench she’d smuggled inside. Jeth took it from her and slid it inside his own boot with one fluid motion as he picked up the nearest fallen glass. Celeste grabbed the other two, and they both stood up.

  “Let’s try that again.” He set the glass on the tray once more.

  Celeste pursed her lips but didn’t respond. Subservience went against her nature.

  A moment later, the music ended and an amplified voice began to speak, politely asking the guests to move out onto the terrace. Jeth and Celeste exchanged a look, then both turned and headed in that direction, walking slowly.

  Jeth pressed the comm again. “Is the relay fixed?”

  “We put a bandage on it,” Lizzie said, and this time her voice was weirdly distant and tinny, although thankfully free of the static. Jeth didn’t bother asking for an explanation—he wasn’t likely to understand it.

  Instead he asked, “Are Joyrider and Blaze in place?”

  “Yep. All ready to go.”

  Jeth imagined Shady was raring to go. The explosive he was about to use was one of his all-time-favorite tools of destruction, even if the explosion was going to be smaller than he would’ve preferred.

  “Perfect,” Jeth said.

  By the time they entered the hallway leading to the terrace, they were nearly the last of the crowd. Celeste walked ahead of Jeth, but they both took it slow, letting as many people pass them as possible. Jeth spotted his destination a short way ahead, a doorway barely discernible in the wood-paneled wall. He knew it was there only because of the picture hanging just to the right of it.

  Two stragglers trailed behind Jeth and, looking for a diversion, he pulled the invitation out of his pocket. He pretended to examine it, then let it slip from his hands. As he stooped to pick it up, the stragglers finally passed him by.

  Jeth looked up and saw Celeste disappear around the corner. She would keep the coast clear for him. He pressed his finger to the comm. “I’m here. Are you ready?”

  Lizzie answered at once, “Ready in three, two, one. Go.”

  Jeth approached the door and pressed his hand against the pressure handle, and it slid open with a faint click. He stepped inside, and it closed behind him, automatically. The hallway beyond was much smaller than the one he’d left behind. He headed down it, made a right at the first intersection, then stopped as he reached another door. There was no door handle, just a control panel set on the wall beside it.

  “Putting the card in place now,” Jeth said as he slid the counterfeit invitation into the narrow slit on the control panel’s side.

  “Got it,” Lizzie said. “Establishing the connection. Should have it hacked in two minutes.”

  Jeth didn’t reply as he turned around, keeping an eye on things. The hallway should stay empty for the time being. Everyone was outside for the fireworks, including the emperor, whose adoration of his granddaughter was well known. That was why Jeth had waited until the fireworks display to come in here. Every servant, guard, guest, and dignitary was expected to observe the spectacle and pay homage to the princess.

  Thirty seconds ticked by, then a minute. Almost there.

  But then Jeth heard the distinctive hiss of a door opening in the distance, followed by the footsteps of someone approaching.

  Someone who shouldn’t be here.

  So much for no glitches.

  CHAPTER 04

  JETH’S HEAD SWAM IN THE SUDDEN SURGE OF ADRENALINE, but then a cool focus came over him, the thrill of the unexpected sharpening his senses. “Someone’s coming. How soon?”

  “Need another minute at least,” Danforth answered.

  Acting on instinct, Jeth left the comm open as he pulled the collapsible wrench out of his boot and expanded it to full size. He held his breath and approached the edge of the hallway. Only two types of people would be coming this way right now: guards or servants. He hoped for the latter. A servant would likely be easier to take by surprise, knock unconscious, and hide until the job was done.

  Jeth listened to the footsteps, determining they were coming from the left, the same way he had entered. He turned and put his back to the wall. Sweat dampened his palms, and he wished he were holding a stunner instead of a wrench. If he hit the person too hard, he could do permanent damage. Too little and he might have a fight on his hands.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  The person reached the juncture where the two hallways met. Jeth held his breath, tightening his grip on the wrench. A figure stepped into view. Jeth raised his hand, aiming for where neck met skull.

  But he froze at the sight of brown hair hanging in ringlets. The girl in the silkwater dress from earlier swung to face him, her large amber eyes widening in surprise.

  Hit her! A voice screamed in his head.

  He couldn’t. He might hurt her. Might kill her with a blow like that.

  “What are you—” she began, but Jeth grabbed her before she could finish. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pinning her. She was tiny, easy to overpower. He felt her lungs expand for a scream, and he clapped his hand over her mouth.

  “Door’s open, Longshot,” Danforth spoke through the comm. “You got things under control down there?”

  “Yeah, I’m coming,” Jeth said, glad he’d left the comm open. To say he had his hands full as he dragged the girl down the hallway would be an understatement. Although to his surprise she wasn’t really struggling. A small, weird part of him was almost disappointed that she didn’t fight. He must’ve misjudged the spunk he’d detected in her earlier.

  He shoved her through the now open door into a narrow entryway that dead-ended before an elevator.

  “I’m going to lower my hand from your mouth,” Jeth said, in his most menacing voice, “but if you so much as squeak, I’ll brain you. Got it?” He waved the wrench before her eyes with his other hand.

  She nodded.

  Jeth let go of her mouth, and holding her with one arm, he reached back and grabbed the counterfeit invitation out of the control panel. A second later, the door slid closed, sealing them in the small foyer before the elevator.

  “Who are you talking to?” Danforth asked.

  “Nobody. A minor inconvenience. Someone from the party. I’m bringing her up with me.”

  “All right, but hurry up,” Danforth said. “You’ve got two minutes before we have to switch off the security loop.”

  Jeth ignored him as he pushed the girl forward, then spun her around with her back to the elevator door. He pointed the wrench at her. “Stay still.”

  She nodded again, although he thought he detected that impishness from before in her eyes. She didn’t look frightened at all. He supposed to a wealthy aristocrat this might seem like a new and exciting game. He might’ve been inclined to feel the same if it hadn’t been for this being Lizzie’s first job.

  Jeth shifted to the right, standing in front of the elevator’s control panel. He keyed in the passcode he’d been given and then leaned his right eye toward the retinal scanner. He held perfectly still, experience telling him that if there was too much movement, the scanner would detect the contact lens. Within seconds the access light turned green and the elevator door opened.

  The girl stepped inside with no prompting from Jeth. He followed after her. The door closed automatically, and the elevator began to move upward. This was one o
f the emperor’s private elevators, and it had only one destination—the very top of the tower.

  “Face the wall and don’t move,” Jeth said, pointing the wrench at the girl again. She turned around, then stood with her arms hanging loose at her sides. Disconcerted by her compliance, Jeth stooped and grabbed the hem of her silkwater dress, on the alert for any sudden movements.

  “What are you doing?” the girl asked, alarmed as he tore off a strip of fabric.

  Jeth regretted destroying something so valuable, but it wasn’t like he could steal the dress. Well, he could, but he wouldn’t.

  “Got to have some way to keep you contained,” he said, standing up. “What were you doing down that hallway anyway?”

  She tapped her foot. “I was following you, to my misfortune it seems.”

  “So it would. Put your hands behind your back.”

  “Is this really necessary?” she said, doing it anyway.

  “Maybe not, but I’m not willing to bet you’ll keep playing nice.” He pulled her wrists together and then wound the torn fabric around them, tying the knot as tight as he could. Silkwater was delicate, but surprisingly strong, enough to be used in this manner.

  “Why not?” she said, turning to face him as he finished. “I’ve done everything you’ve ordered so far.”

  Jeth shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe because you’re rich?”

  She narrowed her eyes on him. “Are you saying rich people can’t be trusted?”

  “As a general rule, yes.”

  “Oh, but I suppose thieves can?”

  Jeth tapped the head of the wrench against his open palm. “Who said anything about thieves?”

  “You don’t expect me to believe you’re a maintenance man in disguise, do you?”

  “No, but I could be an assassin or a terrorist.”

  The girl shook her head, her ringlets bouncing a little. “I don’t think so. If you’re anything other than a thief, I’d go with prostitute sent to be the emperor’s after-party dessert.”

  Jeth wrinkled his nose, deciding it was time to change the subject. “You got a name?”