Heartless Heirs
Page 21
The legs on one of the mechs jerk a few more times, then still for good.
Owen clears his throat. “Are we ready now?”
I turn my attention to the locked treasury. A massive jumble of gears and wires thread through the thick metal door. There isn’t even a place that’s clearly a lock or a clue how one would go about unlocking it.
I catch Aro’s eye. “Any suggestions of where to start?”
He shrugs helplessly. “I knew about this place, but this is the first time I’ve ever actually been here. Never had a reason to before.”
“It doesn’t even look like a door. Just . . . a machine stuck in the wall or something,” Owen says.
There’s one thing every machine must have: a power source. Some, like children’s toys, are windup machines, but most are more complex and require havani to power them. I’m willing to bet havani is somewhere in this door. And if I can find it, trace it back, I might be able to untangle these parts and turn the lock. Better yet, I might even be able to ignite it and blow the whole thing apart. Maybe tear the door to shreds. But I suspect it will make more of an impact on the highly paranoid king and queen if someone steals from them and the lock has been left untampered.
If we’re lucky they might even begin to turn on their closest allies, anyone who has knowledge of this secret financial hideaway, believing them to either be helping the Magi or Magi themselves.
But first I need to figure this out.
Aro and Owen keep watch in case any other guards or mechs decide to join us. I call my magic up again, slipping it gently between the gears and wires, probing deeper into the door that’s a veritable machine in its own right. Had I realized it was this intricate, I would’ve asked Leon about it before we left; he’s probably the one who designed it.
The spell helps me understand how this thing works, gently pulling a wire out here and a few gears and metal plates there. Almost like it’s untying a tangled knot. At the center, my magic brushes over the havani powering it. That sickly feeling is unmistakable. I pull the fuel out too, though even just touching it with my magic nauseates me. Once I settle the havani core on the floor I survey the mess I’ve made.
Underneath all those gears and wires is a small wheel, so well hidden I’d never have known it was there until now. With a wave of my hand, my magic spins the wheel, and more gears inside the doorframe groan. Something clicks, echoing in the ghostly quiet hallway.
And then the door slowly swings open.
CHAPTER 30
I GRIN FROM EAR TO EAR AS WE CAUTIOUSLY enter the treasury. Mechlights flicker on automatically. In two seconds flat my emotions swing from elation to frustration.
There’s gold here, massive amounts of it. Box after box of coins line the walls and are stacked on low shelves, joined by more stacks of shimmering gold bricks, just waiting to be melted down and crafted into something precious.
Interspersed between them are the many, many arms of one giant, sinuous machine.
When the lights turn on, the machine begins to move, metal arms undulating like an enormous, lithe tree. Appendages at the ends grasp at boxes of coins, shifting them closer to the trunk of the metal beast. It’s built into the wall in the far corner of the room in much the same way the lock on the door was constructed.
My mouth goes dry. “Aro, how do we shut this down?”
His face is drawn and pale, and he shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
“Look for something,” I say. “I need to fend this off.” The arms swing toward the door where we stand, and I send spell after spell to buy Aro time to figure it out. First a blast of wind, then I rip the appendage off another arm, only to get smacked in the chest by the stump. I stumble into Owen, the air knocked out of me for a moment.
“Look, there’s a panel here in the wall,” Aro says, then frowns. “It’s all letters.”
“It must be a code. What would they use that no one else would know?”
He glares at it, but I can’t help. Another mecharm is headed our way. I pool my magic and send a spell so fierce, the arm splits into two pieces. I’d love to rip the entire thing to shreds, make it explode like those spidermechs, but with the machine being part of the actual wall, that might backfire in a big way. I don’t want to bring the whole building down on our heads. The arms are moving too quickly and randomly for me to get close enough to unpack the wires and parts like I did with the door. It’s one of the most impressive machines I’ve ever seen.
We need to figure out this code.
Suddenly, the giant, looming machine freezes in midair. Then it retracts its arms into the wall.
I breathe out in relief. “I knew you’d figure it out. What was it?”
Aro’s wearing an odd expression, one I can’t quite decipher. “My full first name. Arondel.”
“You’re their biggest secret. No one else would have any knowledge except for them. Good thinking.”
“I almost didn’t even try it,” he admits. “I . . . I didn’t think they thought of me that often. Let alone to secure something as important as this.” A deep V forms on his forehead.
I rub his arm. “They’re your parents. I’m sure in their own twisted way they care for you. Probably more than for anyone else but themselves. But they’ve done monstrous things they must answer for.”
“I know.” He squeezes my hand. “And I also know if they knew about you, they’d kill you in a heartbeat. Their love kept me locked up until Leon finally convinced them to allow me to work in the lower levels of the Palace.” His eyes burn into mine. “I’ve learned more about family from you and your friends than I ever did from them.”
Owen clears his throat. “Shouldn’t we, uh . . . ?” He gestures to the piles of money before us.
“Yes, definitely,” I say. “As much as we can possibly bring with us.”
It’s hard to decide where to begin. We each have several bags, and we fill them all to the brim. I plan to use a floating spell to carry them. Some we’ll keep so we can pay for goods like food and clothing instead of having to resort to theft. But we have no intention of holding on to most of it for long.
We avoid the gold bars—they’d be too traceable, and if we want to give this back to the people of the city, coins that can be easily circulated are the best bet. I use a spell to fill my bags quickly and then help Aro and Owen with theirs. Coins jingle as they stream into the sacks. A heady thrill shoots through me.
King Damon and Queen Cyrene will be furious. I wish I could see their faces when they hear the news.
But for now we need to make a speedy exit.
I decide to mess with the mechs a little bit to confuse the royals. I use my magic to put the monster mech in the wall back together, fixing the handful of pieces I managed to take off. When I’m done, it looks almost as if it wasn’t even touched.
The only noticeable difference is the missing coins.
We leave the vault behind, and I reassemble the lock on the door in the same manner. Then I turn my attention to the spidermechs. There’s no hope of putting them back together, nor do I have any desire to do so. I can respect the ingenuity behind the door lock and the tentacled machine protecting the royals’ wealth, but not these. Instead, I pile them in the center of the hall, then cast a melting incantation. Soon, liquid metal crawls over the floor. I send a breath of frigid air over it, and within minutes it’s hardened, as if it were an intentional decoration on the floor.
Then we flee into the night, Owen casting the shield and silencing spells and me floating our bags of coins.
When we reach the city square, memories fill me. Here’s where I was assigned my apprenticeship to Leon. There’s the massive willow tree where I ran and hid after Zandria was captured.
This is where we’ll turn much of the Technos’ money loose for their citizens to find once dawn breaks.
We intend to leave no doubt about who has given them this gift. Aro is certain his parents will try to cover and take credit for it, pretending to be generou
s while fuming privately, if we don’t.
Owen works on the credit while I disperse the funds. This is the fun part.
With a spell, I toss the first bag into the air, then rip the cloth apart, sending the coins scattering everywhere. I do the same with all but one bag, making them burst apart in various places to cover as much ground as possible. When I’m done, the whole square glitters in the moonlight.
“It’s a bit dramatic, but it will make the people happy,” Aro says, wrapping an arm around my waist. A pleasant shiver runs through my belly.
Owen, meanwhile, has scorched the earth with the words, Alchemist Alliance. The first who happen on the square will see them, and even if the Technocrats try to scrub them out, rumors will spread like a wildfire nothing can extinguish.
I smile and kiss Aro. He swings me around, and I could swear I’m floating. When he sets me back down on the ground, I laugh and put an arm around each of my companions.
“I think our work here is done.”
Aro and Owen return to our base of operations, but I have one last thing I need to do. I follow the directions Aro gave me to a part of town that’s a bit more rundown than the one we just left. It isn’t far from where Zandria and I used to live, actually. I look for the small brick building, number 127 according to Aro, and stop in front of the walk.
No one can see me under my shield spell, but I feel strangely exposed nonetheless.
I creep up to a window at the rear of the house, where the bedrooms most likely are located, and peer inside. It’s dark, but the moonlight shines through the curtains when I part them with my magic, revealing a sleeping woman with her arms around a little girl sucking her thumb in her sleep. My heart aches more than I expected it would.
My guilt, my fault. My mistake.
This is Caden’s wife and child. I took him away from them, let Aro cover up his death with convenient lies. I may not have liked Caden, but that didn’t give me the right.
Satisfied that I have the correct house, I let the curtains fall back into place and tiptoe to the front door. There, I leave a purse of coins full enough to cover the money Caden would’ve brought home in an entire year. Then I disappear into the darkness.
CHAPTER 31
WHEN I WAKE THE NEXT MORNING, I FIND Aro in the war room after breakfast. He glances up from his book with an eager look on his face.
“You’re in a good mood this morning,” I say. “Did you uncover something new while studying the runes?” I take a seat next to him on the bench as I eat a croissant we swiped from the bakery the other day.
“Nothing you don’t already know about,” he says. “But I’ve been thinking a lot.” His face seems to be trying to take on a full range of emotions all at once. His hands are warm, and they slide down my arms to pull me closer by my elbows.
“About what?” I ask.
“My parents.” He shakes his head. “I can’t stop thinking about our mission last night. The key to shutting the machine off was my full name. The last few weeks I’ve believed my parents to be indifferent to me. As unfeeling as you and the other Magi believe them to be. But this . . . this is forcing me to reexamine that.”
“Aro,” I say. “I know you want to believe your parents have some . . .” I pause, trying to find the right word. “ . . . good in them. But all the evidence points to the contrary.”
His eyes don’t lose an ounce of that eager gleam. “Except what I learned last night. I think I can reach them.”
Personally, I think he’s grasping at straws. But I can appreciate why. It can’t be easy to come to terms with your family being the source of so much suffering and pain.
“How are you going to do that? You already tried warning them about Darian, and that didn’t go well.”
Aro grimaces. “True. But I have so much more to tell them now. They have no idea Magi and Technocrats were once the same people. No inkling about the genetic mutation that split us into two factions.”
“But will they even listen to you if you do tell them?”
“I have proof now. I can show them the alchemicals, explain how the Heartless were created and how Darian made it worse. And that we fixed it.” He catches my hand and places it on his heart. “How magic saved my life. How a Magi saved my life.”
My breath shudders in my throat. “I’m not so sure we should be sharing the alchemicals with them. I don’t know that we can trust them with that information. Look what Darian did with his knowledge of magic and machines.” I swallow hard. “And if you tell them we’re bonded, Darian will find out. He’ll use that against us. That must remain a secret for the time being.”
His enthusiasm dampens slightly. “All right, I can see the wisdom in that. But still, after seeing the Sanctuary and learning about the Alchemist Alliance, I have so much more ammunition to use to convince them.”
A chill sweeps over me. “Aro, you can’t mention the Sanctuary either. Darian . . . I’m sure he’s heard of it. He probably has plans to look for it once he completes his coup here in Palinor. It must be protected.”
Aro sighs. “I promise I won’t say anything about the Sanctuary. But I must try. Darian is the real threat.”
“I just don’t know if that’s a good idea.” I shrug. “Perhaps that’s the problem with the way of life I’m accustomed to. Everything we do must be kept a secret. Information can be dangerous.”
“Who are we considering sharing information with?” Zandria’s voice calls from the doorway. I stiffen in response. My sister leans against the wall, frowning with her arms folded.
“No one. Aro and I were just discussing ways we might be able to make King Damon and Queen Cyrene see reason.”
Zandria makes a choking noise. “See reason? You can’t be serious?” She moves closer to the table where we sit.
“I know they have cruel tendencies, but they’re not wholly unreasonable people,” Aro says.
I cringe. I can’t agree with him. Cruelty is the point of nearly everything the king and queen do.
“Not unreasonable?” Zandria’s voice launches an octave higher than usual, making Aro draw back. I remain firmly between them.
“Zandria, I don’t think he meant—”
“Is it reasonable for them to lock Magi in metal suits until they wither and die?”
Aro turns pale. “Of course not, they don’t—”
“Is it reasonable for them to torture anyone and everyone they please, just for sport? How about Vivienne’s story? Was it reasonable for them to burn her boyfriend alive?” she sputters. “How is anyone who thinks those things are acceptable to be reasoned with?”
“None of those things are reasonable. They’re horrifically misguided—”
“Misguided?” Zandria laughs, her anger turning manic. “No, there’s nothing misguided or naive about their actions. They are cruel and calculating, the sort of plans only the worst people can dream up. They cannot be reasoned with. They can only be destroyed.”
My sister quivers with rage. I place a hand tentatively on her shoulder, hoping to calm her, but instead she slaps it away. “And you? Do you agree with him?”
I glance between my sister and my boyfriend. Then I shake my head. “I don’t believe they can be reasoned with. But killing them isn’t the answer either. Stopping them, absolutely. Removing them from power and imprisoning them where they can do no more harm.”
“Do no more harm?” Fire flashes in Zandy’s eyes. “The only thing that will ensure that is their deaths. Letting them live is the same as letting them go unpunished. I won’t stand for it.”
Aro rises. “I understand your anger. My parents have earned all your hatred and more. But we’re not going to kill them. I won’t stand for that.”
“Who says you have any say in the decision?” Magic begins to simmer in Zandria’s veins. I can sense it pooling in her palms.
“Zandy,” I say with a sharp warning in my voice. She gives me a cutting glance.
“After everything we’ve been through, everyth
ing you and I and the Magi have suffered,” Zandria says to me, “how can you even consider letting them live?”
A wild frustration burns within in my chest. She’s right about one thing. I don’t like the idea of letting them live. But I can’t condone killing Aro’s parents. Certainly not right in front of him.
I glance helplessly between the two most important people in my life, and for the first time, I’m at a complete loss for words.
“I can’t believe you,” Zandria hisses, then hurries out of the room. I want to run after her, comfort her, but I’m the last person who can do that right now.
My eyes sting, and I rub them before any tears can fall. Somehow, I keep making things worse with my sister. Aro places a hand on my shoulder.
“I didn’t mean to put you in that position,” he says, a miserable expression on his face. He knows as well as I do that there are no good choices when it comes to his parents, and definitely none that will make everyone happy.
“It was bound to happen eventually.” I pull away slightly. “I know you want to reach out to your parents, but the risks of doing so are far greater than any possible reward. I just don’t see a path to making that happen right now. If one presents itself, we can revisit. But bear in mind, everyone else here wants them dead. And I can’t blame them for that, even if I disagree it’s the right course of action.”
Aro’s jaw twitches as his mouth settles into a hard line. “All right. We’ll table that for now.”
“Thank you,” I say, then sink back onto the bench.
“What about you?” Aro says. “Are you all right?”
“I’m frustrated with my sister. And myself, I think. When I put her in charge of helping the freed Magi acclimate, I thought it would go a long way to bringing her some peace, some sense of direction. Maybe even a little closure. She won’t talk to me about what happened to her, but those Magi understand. They’ve experienced the same thing. But all it seems to have done is fuel the fires of her rage, and she’s avoided them while they’re here.” Aro puts an arm around my shoulders, and I lean into him. “It isn’t at all as I expected.”