The Immortal Crown

by Richelle Mead

  They’re doing it for her too, Horatio said. She doesn’t always like you, but she does care about you and the others. Her friends can tell, and that carries a lot of weight with them.

  And they want to defend my house from raging religious zealots, Justin insisted.

  Well, yes, obviously.

  Even though Val and Dag seemed excited about this new enterprise he’d brought them, Justin couldn’t shake the feeling of overstaying his welcome. He finished and paid for his drink—and theirs—and then made motions to leave. Mae quickly downed her own drink and stood up as if to follow.

  “No, no, you can stay,” he said. “Enjoy your break.”

  “I don’t need a break. Besides, I’m working the first house shift tonight. I have to go with you anyway.”

  “I’m not going home.”

  Mae’s disapproving look spoke legions, and he knew he could have easily kept her away if he made up some story about a liaison. As it was, the truth was nearly as effective.

  “I’m going to see Lucian.”

  “Really?” she asked, after several moments of scrutiny. “I need to ask a favor.”

  “Lucian Darling? Our security’s not good enough?” asked Dag with a wounded look.

  Justin gave him a small smile. “Different favor.” To Mae, he said, “You’re welcome to come, if you want.”

  That unreadable mask of hers slipped into place. Mae’s relationship with Lucian Darling—Justin’s old friend and one of the country’s most powerful senators—was an enigmatic thing. He was infatuated with her. She neither seemed to like nor dislike him. A plebeian senator, even a liberal one, couldn’t be seen publicly dating a castal woman, so he’d contrived a number of events in the past for her to attend, like dinners and other fundraisers. She’d gone to a couple, always polite and always showing as much emotion as any good Nordic debutante would when out in society—meaning, no emotion at all.

  “I’ll walk you to the subway,” she said. “Tell Lucian you’re coming, and he’ll have his car sent to his station for you. The timing should work out well.”

  So. She didn’t want to go. That was telling—as was the familiar way in which she spoke about getting to his home.

  Val leaned toward Justin. “You’re going to tell us all about how our Finn knows the good senator, right? I mean, we’ll have all sorts of time to kill when we’re protecting you and your loved ones out of the goodness of our hearts. Surely the least you can do in return is tell us what some people have been unfairly tightlipped about.”

  Mae rolled her eyes. “Because there’s nothing to tell.”

  Her friends looked skeptical, and Justin suspected he had more badgering in his future. For now, he was able to slip off relatively unbothered, after offering more sincere thanks to the praetorians. He was equally gracious to Mae as they walked out into the busy summer night toward the subway stop across the street, thanking her for her role in everything.

  “I get that they’re doing it for you,” he added when they reached the stairs leading underground. “But I’m not sure why you’re doing it.”

  “Because I like your family,” she said, confirming what the ravens had said. They reached the platform, and a monitor informed them that the gray line train—which led out to Lucian’s suburb—was seconds away. “And I know better than anyone else what kind of stuff is coming after you—and could come after them. You need extra help.”

  The train pulled up and opened its doors, letting crowds of people move in and out. Justin paused before boarding to give Mae one last glance. “You think praetorians will be enough?”

  She had that unreadable expression back on. “They’ll have to be.”

  Justin had given Lucian plenty of notice that he was coming by that night. He’d also told Lucian he was bringing Mae.

  “Really?” Lucian asked, upon realizing he’d been tricked. “You don’t think I would’ve let just you come over?”

  Justin peered around the expansive living room that a bodyguard had just escorted him into. The house and upper class suburban neighborhood weren’t unlike his own, though there was a sterile, too- neat feel to everything. No surprise, he thought, since Lucian probably spent more time on the road these days than around the house.

  “Hedging my bets,” Justin said. “I had no idea what kind of long day you might have had. You might not want any guests at all. But you’d still probably want her.”

  “Probably.” Lucian, upon closer examination, actually did appear as though he might have had a long day. He was settled into the corner of a leather sofa, with his arm stretched along its back and his feet resting on a coffee table. The top buttons of his dress shirt were undone, its sleeves unrolled. If he’d had a tie at some point today, it’d been discarded. There was an easy smile on his face—it was hard to find Lucian without one—but it was underscored with fatigue. “Though believe it or not, there actually has been something I’ve wanted to see you about. So this works out happily for everyone. Make yourself a drink, and we’ll talk.” He held up an empty glass. “Make me one too.”

  Justin took the glass over to a bar between the kitchen and living room. It too was beautifully laid out and well-stocked, straight from an entertaining magazine but not seeing much use. “Why don’t you give up on your unattainable Nordic obsession and find some well-bred plebeian wife to smile in your campaign ads and throw dinner parties for you?”

  Lucian’s grin broadened. “No time. Maybe after I win. Right now, that’s where all my real energy’s going.”

  Justin sat down in an armchair near the sofa, handing over Lucian’s drink as he did. “Does it take that much energy? Don’t you have this sealed up?”

  “Never assume anything in politics. We’re still in the lead, but Chu from the New People’s Party has been going up in the polls. Very quickly.” Lucian’s dark eyes stared off into space as he sipped the drink, his mind spinning with numbers and points. “We need something big. No more well-written speeches and school visits. Something that’ll stick in the hearts and minds of people and make them see me as a leader, not just someone trying to win a contest.”

  Justin nearly made a joke, but the intensity in his old friend’s gaze made him reconsider. He’s into this. He’s really into this. In any other politician, I’d say that makes him more dangerous than someone who’s just trying to reap the fame.

  Any other politician? Are you saying he’s not dangerous? Asked Horatio.

  That remains to be seen.

  To Lucian, Justin said, “Do you have something in mind? A great hearts-and-minds-winning stunt?”

  “Not a stunt.” Lucian’s eyes focused back on Justin. “But it can wait. Tell me what you need.”

  “What, after a buildup like that? I can’t compete. You go first.” Lucian hesitated only briefly, took another sip, and then leaned eagerly toward Justin. “Arcadia.”

  The name of the RUNA’s volatile neighbor was not what Justin had expected to hear. Composed of the southeastern part of the former United States, Arcadia had formed after the Decline when the rest of its American countrymen had banded together with Canada. Relations between the RUNA and Arcadia weren’t friendly, a situation made more difficult by the fact that Arcadia was neither advanced enough to be treated as an equal nor backward enough to be casually dismissed like other provinces. Frequent border disputes in recent years had only worsened political tensions.

  “You want to take it over? Annex it?” Justin asked. “That would certainly get people’s attention.” He was mostly joking, but from the fervent look in Lucian’s eyes, Justin wondered just how extreme the senator might be willing to get.

  Lucian clasped his hands together. “No. Not yet. Just go there. There’s been talk for a while between both countries about a diplomatic visit—some sort of friendly delegation going in to try to better understand our neighbors and their ways.” A bitter smile played at the edges of Lucian’s lips. “There’s been particular interest in this after rumors of the Arcadians amassing
new weapons—not that I expect them to tour us around that.”

  Justin parsed his words. “Us. As in you—you’d be a part of this delegation?”

  “Exactly.”

  Lucian settled back into the couch, face triumphant as he gauged Justin’s reaction—which was one of astonishment. “That’s crazy! People like you don’t go to Arcadia . . . or any province. You’re supposed to stay on the campaign trail, in posh hotels surrounded by bodyguards.”

  “And that’s what makes this so big. There are no heroes anymore, Justin. Leaders get elected with words, not actions, and when people go to the polls, they’re usually just voting for the lesser of evils because there’s nothing better. But I intend to be better. I can’t be Mae, fighting gloriously out there on the battlefield, but I can be the first leader in the RUNA’s history to ever set foot in semi-hostile territory, unafraid to further this country’s interest. People will respect that. That’ll mean something, whereas my rivals’ words will just be . . . words.”

  “See, that’s your problem right there,” said Justin, unable to believe what he was hearing. “You can put ‘semi’ in front of it, but ‘hostile’ will still get you killed.”

  Lucian looked more confident than he had any right to be. “You visit plenty of hostile places. You’re still alive.”

  Justin downed his drink. “I don’t go there as a public official, decked out in fanfare. I go in covertly—well-protected—and don’t always get out so smoothly.”

  “Well, I’ll be well-protected too. Even the Arcadians aren’t foolish enough to think our party’d go in without our own soldiers.”

  “A dozen Gemman soldiers won’t mean much if you’re surrounded by the entire Arcadian military,” Justin pointed out.

  “The Arcadians won’t touch me or the people with me. They don’t trust us, sure, but they don’t want an incident. Some of them really even do want to stabilize relations between us.” Lucian stood up and began to pace. “In this case, the fanfare pays off. They can’t do anything when this is all so public. I’ll be fine. You would be fine.”

  Justin had been about to stand and make another drink but now found himself momentarily frozen in place. “Me? I assume you’re speaking hypothetically.”

  “It’s only hypothetical if you don’t go.”

  The smug grin on Lucian’s face was maddening. Justin was used to reading the truth from people’s expressions, but he couldn’t read Lucian just then. Was this some kind of joke? No . . . the more Justin studied the other man, the more it seemed Lucian was in earnest. The question was, why?

  “Give me one good reason I’d want to go with you on a suicidal trip to Arcadia,” said Justin at last.

  Lucian chuckled. “Well, as I already told you, it’s not suicidal. As for a reason . . . don’t you study religion? That place is a hotbed of it— getting hotter from what I hear.”

  “I study religion to protect my own country. What others do to destroy theirs is up to them.”

  But as Justin spoke, a chill ran down his spine. Whereas the RUNA had renounced religion after the Decline, Arcadia had clung to it—so fiercely, in fact, that it had become intertwined with the government. The Arcadian faith was rigid and authoritarian, and the idea of it “getting hotter” was slightly terrifying. And yet, there was no question religion really was heating up in the RUNA and other parts of the world. Was the divine game—or maybe even war, at this point— active in Arcadia as well?

  It would certainly be something worth looking into, said Magnus. And our master would especially be interested in knowing the state of godly affairs there.

  I don’t owe him that, Justin reminded the ravens. I only answer to Internal Security, and they haven’t asked this of me. I’m not going to volunteer because Lucian wants company.

  “You can bring Mae,” added Lucian unexpectedly. “Most of our security detail will be praetorians, actually.”

  Justin suppressed a groan. “Is that what this is about? Unbelievable. You’d seriously go this far to get some alone time with her?”

  Lucian held out his hands in an appeasing gesture. “No. Believe it or not, you’re actually the one I want more on this trip. We’ll have other cultural experts with us to help us ‘learn’ about the country. A religion expert is vital with these people—as are your observations on human nature. I don’t just want election results from this trip, Justin. I want long term results. I want to know how these people breathing down our necks think, and understanding how their superstition affects them is the key to it. There’s no one else I trust more than you to get inside their heads.”

  He’s actually complimenting you, observed Horatio.

  First time for everything, said Justin.

  “I already have a job,” he told Lucian. “IS has assignments for me. I can’t just drop them for a field trip.”

  “I think they’d spare you if I asked.”

  Yes, Justin was sure they would. Especially if they sensed a supernatural threat lurking in Arcadia’s borders. But Justin still wanted no part of it. Arcadia was its own unique brand of dangerous, and Justin especially didn’t want to be tied to some much-hyped, very public trip.

  “Sorry,” said Justin firmly. “I pass.”

  Lucian weighed him heavily for several moments and then gave a nod, his customary smile returning. “Okay. But think on it. And if you change your mind, you’ve got a week to get in on one of the biggest international moves in this country. Now. What did you want to talk about?”

  He dropped that awfully fast, thought Justin warily as he began explaining about Darius’s internship. Too fast.

  Yes, agreed Horatio. He certainly did. Be careful.

  CHAPTER 5

  The Red Velvet Cloak

  “You’ve been with Lucian the whole time?”

  Justin seemed startled by Mae’s voice as he trudged past the living room at three in the morning. He came to a halt and squinted at where she was curled up on the couch with a reader she hadn’t really been paying attention to, save to occasionally check the house’s exterior security settings. Her mind was too full of the latest developments, both domestic and abroad, to focus on books or movies.

  “Yup,” said Justin. “Don’t worry, just us boys. No side trips.”

  “I’m more worried about you staggering home drunk in the middle of the night when there are people out there who want you dead. You’re going to a lot of pains for everyone else but not taking much care with yourself. I thought this was going to be a quick trip.”

  Justin rubbed his eyes before answering. “Me too. But Lucian kind of dropped a bombshell on me.” Mae was too self-controlled to ask, but he read the interest off her face. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  “Wouldn’t I?” she asked archly.

  He reconsidered. “Yes, you probably would. I’ll tell you tomorrow. I need sleep now.”

  “Did you at least get what you initially went there for?” she called, as he started to turn.

  “I did actually. Young Master Sandberg is going to be serving our fine country as a senatorial intern. We’ll see how long he enjoys his ‘reward.’”

  Mae felt a smile spread over her face. “That’s what you went to

  Lucian for?”

  “It’s what the kid wanted.” Justin suddenly seemed uncomfortable at having been caught doing a good deed. “What’s wrong with that? He defended my home.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with it,” she said, trying to look serious. “I just think it’s sweet you went out of your way for him, especially when you could’ve just called Lucian.”

  “Did you just say—” He shook his head and stifled a yawn. “Never mind. I pay my debts, that’s all. See you in the morning.”

  Mae watched him go, biting back any further remarks she might make about him disregarding his own safety. He deserved chastisement, of course. He had no business being out there, alone and intoxicated, especially after what they’d seen in Nassau. An image of a bloodied Mama Orane flar
ed in Mae’s mind, reminding her of the severity of the forces they were dealing with. Justin had been insistent, however, that his family get Mae’s protection tonight, not him. His safety was also apparently secondary to him repaying an imagined debt to a boy he barely knew.

  Mae sighed and leaned back, frustrated—as she often was—at these surprising streaks of nobility in Justin that popped up in what was otherwise a sea of selfishness. Apparently not even a mob of rampaging, deadly insects capable of regeneration was enough to deter him when he decided he had to do the right thing. Remembering the beetles made her sit up again and reach for her boot, where the amber knife was safely sheathed once more. She took it out and studied it in the light of a small table lamp.

  Even in the dimness, golden fire played in the dagger’s handle, providing an almost fanciful contrast to the efficient, no-nonsense blade. A blade that had been capable of killing supernatural creatures when nothing else could. I should get rid of it, she thought. She’d meant what she told Justin: she didn’t want anything to do with the powers surrounding them. Investigating them as part of her job might be inevitable, but personal involvement was not—and this knife was personal. It had been sent to her anonymously in the spring, and that alone should’ve been reason for mistrust. Her initial thought had been that it was an unwelcome gift from Callista Xie, a religious leader and former lover of Justin’s. When asked, Callista had insisted she had nothing to do with it, increasing the knife’s mystery.

  Mae still wasn’t sure if Callista was lying—or why she would. Regardless, the knife was Mae’s now unless she did something about it. It wouldn’t be hard. There were plenty of other daggers she could afford of comparable quality, if not style. Gingerly, she reached out and touched the blade, admiring the precision and workmanship. The gleaming edge was lethally sharp, showing no wear from the beetle attacks or the time she had killed the servant of a death goddess intent on—