“I’ll have to bring your bowl back to the kitchen. Will you be able to meet me in the conservatory?”
“Yes.” He clasped his hands, then nodded to a bell attached to his wall. “I’ll ring for a servant to wheel me there.”
I nodded, then I walked to the door, bowl in hand. The cinnamon scent of the porridge wafted. Before exiting, I turned to him.
“Morven,” I said hesitantly. “Is there a chance your aunt could be poisoning your food?”
He gave me a sharp glance. “Poison? That’s a bit farfetched, isn’t it? No, I don’t believe she would do that.”
“Well,” I mumbled. “It was only a theory. We’ll start our lessons in the conservatory in half an hour.”
I turned away from him and left the room, shutting the door behind me, keeping the bowl held close. What had caused the food to taste so awful? If someone had tampered with it, then who?
The bowl grew cold in my hands. I had to stop thinking about it. Chances were, it was completely fine. But it hadn’t tasted fine. Could it really be poisoned?
Even more alarming were the implications between poison and the lost cerecite. Someone in the royal family had taken the cerecite back to the palace after the other agents’ disappearances. Could that same person have something to do with the poisoned porridge? It was a longshot, and maybe nothing, but a person capable of stealing cerecite was also capable of poisoning the prince. Maybe the two were connected.
Which led me back to the queen.
If Morven died, she kept the throne. She’d also been present ten years ago when the last agent had disappeared, and she was trying to keep us out of the observatory where I’d found the first object. But what motivation did she have to keep us from the cerecite? Maybe Morven would know more. I’d heard them arguing. I had trouble believing she cared for him, yet for whatever reason, Morven didn’t believe me.
Was there some way to prove there was poison in his food?
I stopped walking and tightened my grip on the bowl.
If it was poisoned, I had the evidence right here in my hands. And it just so happened that I had a scanner in my room that could show the colors of elemental substances.
Including poison.
I hesitated for only a moment before turning away from the kitchen and heading back to my room. When I reached it, I entered and shut the door behind me, then placed the bowl on my nightstand.
I’d have to do this quickly.
I sat on the bed and removed the scanner from my bag. As I pulled apart the two rounded ends, the mechanical hiss echoed through the small space. Holding the scanner over the porridge, I wasn’t exactly sure how this would work as I pressed the button.
The scanner beam moved from top to bottom, then stopped. As it finished, bright yellow spots glowed in the porridge.
Weird.
What were the yellow spots? I had my suspicions, but I didn’t know anything for sure. I did, however, know who to ask.
After pressing the disc on my leather band, I waited.
“Harper?” Fifteen asked.
“Yes, hi,” I answered quickly.
“You’ve found the next object so soon?”
“No, sorry. I’m communicating for something else.” I took a deep breath. “I think I found poison, and I need to know for sure. When I scanned the prince’s porridge, it turned yellow. Is there any chance it could be yellow cerecite?”
“Yellow cerecite?” He paused. The line crackled. “That’s a possibility. However, there are other substances that would appear yellow—sulphur or lead iodide, for example.”
I eyed the bowl. “But why would anything of that nature be in the prince’s food?”
“I don’t have an answer, Agent Harper.”
“Then it’s probably poison.” My stomach roiled. I placed a hand on my abdomen, imagining the yellow cerecite inside my own system. I groaned. Why had I thought eating it was a good idea?
“Is he experiencing any unusual symptoms?” he asked. “Memory loss or severe weakness to the lower extremities?”
I thought about the question before answering. “He’s in a wheelchair. He can’t walk most of the time. I don’t know about memory loss. He seems smart enough. Too smart for his own good, most of the time.” I tapped my knee as I pieced together the information. “But the question is, who put the poison there? His aunt?”
“Possibly. As I said, the noble family has a poor reputation. Poisoning wouldn’t surprise me in the least. However, I’ll warn you not to get involved. Whatever is happening with the nobles doesn’t involve you.”
I stiffened. “Actually, I think it does. Agent Nordgren told me when the last agents disappeared, someone took their cerecite and brought it back here. To the palace. It doesn’t take a giant leap to think that someone capable of possible murder and theft is also capable of poisoning. Fifteen, if I find the one poisoning the prince, I may find the lost cerecite in the process.”
“No,” he said sharply. “I’m sorry, Agent Harper, but trust me when I say your logic is flawed. Becoming the prince’s caretaker is a ploy to get you inside the palace. Nothing more. Don’t concern yourself with him. Your priority is to find the cerecite. Might I remind you that we’re on the verge of experiencing another flare? One that will destroy every grid on the planet if you’re unsuccessful?”
We were back to the flare again. Why did it seem any time I questioned Vortech’s motives, the flare was conveniently brought up? Yet they failed to provide me with any proof of it. Something wasn’t sitting well with me. He was distracting me, and I wouldn’t allow it.
“Agent Fifteen,” I said sternly. “I’m sorry, but I refuse to sit back while someone poisons the prince.”
“Agent Harper,” he answered with equal sternness. “Be reasonable. If you get involved, something worse could happen to you.”
Rosa came to mind—and the word poison written in her journal.
“Fine.” I sighed, unclenching my hands fisting the blanket, only now realizing I was doing it. “I’ll keep my distance, but I won’t allow him to keep ingesting poison.”
“How do you plan to do that?” he asked.
“I’ll start by preparing his food myself.”
The line went silent for a moment. “Will you continue searching for the cerecite?”
I almost agreed, but I stopped myself. Too many suspicions were making it hard for me to trust my employer. What happens if I don’t? I wanted to ask, but I knew the answer. I would never go home, never see Dad. He’d lose a daughter, the last of his family.
“Yes, of course I’ll keep searching,” I answered. “You know I don’t have a choice.”
“I understand,” he said gently. “I understand completely, Sabine.” He’d used my given name, which surprised me. “What are the next clues?”
Rosa’s journal sat on my nightstand, but I didn’t pick it up. I tried to refocus on my mission, grounding myself in time and place—in the palace, on Ithical Island.
I could do this. I had to do this.
The journal entry came to me in perfect clarity, as if I held it open on my lap. “I’ve found sound and time. Location, matter, light, world, and poison are left.” I thrummed my fingers on my bedside table as I thought through the clues.
I stood, pacing my room. “Location. That could be a map, right? What about a star chart?”
“Yes,” he conceded. “That could very well be it. Have you seen a star chart?”
I stopped, staring at my nightstand where I’d placed the porridge. “I’ve seen quite a few.”
“Then I suggest finding them be your priority. Good luck, Harper. We’re counting on you.” His voice had an uncharacteristic edge of sharpness, a warning.
“Yeah,” I answered drily. “Thanks.”
The line went silent, and I was left to stare at a bowl of cold porridge. My stomach still roiled from the single bite I’d eaten. I was starting to understand Prince Morven’s unpleasant attitude—and I couldn’t blame him.
Someone was poisoning him, and despite Fifteen’s warning, I would find out who it was and discover the location of the third object.
Crossing my arms, I tapped my fingers on my elbow. Had any of the charts changed appearance? I couldn’t answer conclusively because I hadn’t checked. Going through them individually was the only way to know for sure.
For now, I had to make an appearance and pretend to tutor Morven, although why his aunt demanded he learn things he already knew was a mystery to me. His aunt did many things that bothered me, and if I could prove she was the one responsible for poisoning him, it would do more than benefit the kingdom. It would save Morven’s life, and possibly reveal the truth behind Agent Rodriguez’s disappearance.
I would also have to tell Morven what I’d discovered, and I wasn’t sure how to approach the subject. I put it on my list of things to figure out later.
After leaving my room, I returned the bowl and tray to the kitchen, then wandered through the palace, searching for the stairs to the bottom floor. I passed the dining hall. Inside, servants hung long tapestries embroidered with the image of the dragon from the ceiling, and they draped banners and garlands over the balconies.
The symbol of the green dragon taunted me. Its presence was a mystery—one that made no logical sense in a scientific way of thinking.
Shaking my head, I turned away from the dining hall, then I took the staircase to the bottom floor. When I reached the conservatory, Prince Morven sat at the wrought-iron table, hands clasped on its surface. He looked pensively out the windows—the same gaze I’d seen yesterday—past the city and its bustling life, to the dome, and into the stars beyond, though none of them were visible.
He didn’t smile as I sat across from him, merely gave me his penetrating gaze that seemed entirely too intelligent. I had the urge to shudder under that dark glance, but I sat tall instead.
The bag of scrolls remained near my chair, and I dumped the entire thing on the table.
“Today,” I said, “you teach me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What?”
I motioned to the scrolls. “Your aunt demanded I teach you, but you know more about this world than anyone else—and more about what’s beyond the dome. You’ve made hundreds of star charts. Do you keep them all upstairs in the observatory?”
He scrunched his brow. “Why do you want to know about the star charts?”
I shrugged. “Because I have a sudden interest in astronomy.”
“Really?” He laughed, leaning forward, his mouth quirked at the edges. “That can’t possibly be true.” He spoke with a deep, quiet voice. “I nearly bored you to tears when you joined me in the observatory yesterday. What’s the real reason?”
“Fine.” I crossed my arms. “My da and I used to go stargazing. It’s one of the only things we enjoyed doing together. I’d like to know more about what’s out there.” If stargazing translated to watching Star Trek reruns, then I wasn’t far from the truth.
He leaned back, his eyes wide, as if I’d surprised him. “You’re curious about astronomy?”
“Yes,” I said firmly.
“You know we’re not allowed in the observatory.”
“I know. Can’t we sneak up again?”
He exhaled a heavy sigh. “Unfortunately, no. Since our last visit, my aunt disabled the lifts. She also decided to lock the tower.”
“Lock it?” I questioned, not terribly surprised.
He shrugged. “That’s the way she is. I’ve learned to deal with her.”
I stood, pressing my palms to the table. “That will change after your coronation, won’t it?”
He nodded. “She’ll have less power over me. It eats her up.”
Which was a perfect motive to poison him, and to keep the hidden cerecite away from him. “Morven, have you considered that she has motivation to harm you?”
He shook his head. “Are we back to the poison thing again?”
“Yes,” I said firmly. “We’re back to the poison thing again. I tested your porridge. It was positive for yellow cerecite.”
He gave me a shrewd glance. “How did you do that?”
“I—” I stopped myself. I’d almost said, I used my scanner. I’d have to lie now. Darn it all. Why’d I open my big mouth? Now I had to come up with a story.
Keeping my composure, I sat down and threaded my fingers on the table. “It was easy. I just compared its taste to yellow cerecite.”
He frowned. “You’ve tasted yellow cerecite?”
“Yes.” I silently thanked Ivan for his story. “When I was a child, I was walking along the rails with my parents. I thought they looked so pretty and yellow, like candy, and for whatever reason, I decided to lick them. Don’t judge me.”
His frown deepened. “You licked the rails?”
I held up a finger. “I was four, mind you.”
“You licked the rails?” he repeated.
“Yes, but that’s not the point.” I waved my hand in a dismissive gesture. “I can’t forget that aftertaste. It was just like your porridge.”
His mouth quirked into a half-teasing grin. “Sorry, I’m still focused on the image of four-year-old you hunched over and licking the rails. It’s hilarious, actually.”
Crossing my arms, I gave him a smug glare. “I’m glad my humiliation is entertaining you.”
“It is.” His smile showed his perfect teeth. “Very much.”
I snapped my fingers at him. “Will you focus? Don’t you see what this proves? There’s yellow cerecite in your porridge. Someone is poisoning you.”
“Sorry, but it doesn’t prove anything.” He folded his arms over his chest. “You were four. Children of that age are known for their idiocy. Case in point, you licking the rails. You probably don’t remember correctly. Plus, there are any number of substances that taste like cerecite.”
“No there aren’t. Name one.”
“Dirt, mold. I could go on.”
“Fine. But what about the symptoms? It can cause debilitating weakness to the lower extremities.”
“I’ve heard all that before, but I still don’t believe my aunt would be responsible.”
“Is that because she’s family?”
“Partially, yes. It also doesn’t make sense because I’ve been this way since my parents died. I don’t think she would’ve been poisoning me for ten years. If she wanted me dead, there are easier ways to do it. Why would she bother? Why not sneak into my room at night and stab me?”
“I don’t know.” I drummed my fingers on the table. “Maybe she’s trying to control you more easily. If you’re stuck in that chair, you’re forced to remain under her power.”
“Let’s get one thing straight,” he said darkly. “She does not control me. It doesn’t matter if I’m in a chair. She has no power over me. She never will.”
I disagreed, but I wouldn’t tell him that.
“Can we drop the poison thing now?” he asked. “I think there may be a way to get up to the star charts.”
I sighed. “Fine. I’m listening.”
“The celebration ball for my birthday is happening soon. She’s posting all the guards on the two bottom tiers, which will leave the observatory unguarded. It’s the only time it will be unguarded, mind you.”
“But what about the locked tower?” I asked.
“We’ll have to get the key.”
I tilted my head. “Where’s the key?”
He thrummed his fingers on his knee. “She’s wearing it.”
My eyes widened. “Wearing it?”
“Yes, and I doubt anyone will be able to get close enough to her to remove it.”
I massaged my throbbing temples. “That’s a problem.”
“Yeah, a big one.” His shoulders sagged. “We would need a magician to get that key off my aunt’s neck.”
“A magician?” That gave me an idea. “Morven.” I leaned forward, whispering. “Are servants allowed to attend the ball?”
“The upper-level servants, ye
s.”
Excitement quickened my pulse. “Is the gardener an upper-level servant?”
“Yes.” He nodded, drumming his fingers on the table. “What are you getting at?”
“Would she ever dance with the gardener at the ball?”
“Possibly. It depends on how many nobles attend. Usually there aren’t many. I suppose if the gardener asked her to dance, she’d do it. She wouldn’t want to make herself look like more of a snob than she already is.”
“Good.” I smiled inwardly at my scheme. Thievery was becoming a viable career path for me. “I know someone who can help us steal the key. Where are the gardens?”
Chapter 13
I left Morven behind as I walked to the gardens. He said he wasn’t feeling well, so he’d gone back to his room. When the last of the yellow cerecite left his body, he’d start to feel normal again. At least, I hoped so.
After pacing through the sunlit hallways, I passed through a doorway leading outside. The wind blustered, its hint of a mechanical smell reminding me of the exhaust from Dad’s tractor the first time he’d cranked it after a long winter.
Shaking my head, I didn’t know what to make of the unusual odor. Maybe it came from an enormous VR facility created by Vortech. Yes, and an alien green dragon had helped them engineer it.
I bit my lip to keep from laughing at the absurdity. I’d really have to start coming up with better theories.
The glass dome of a greenhouse rose beyond the trimmed trees, and I strolled down a cobbled path toward it, my boots crunching loose stones. Uniform grass grew on either side of the winding trail. The palace walls—gray cinder stones—blocked out half the sky.
The path ended at the greenhouse door. I hefted the wooden latch. Metal hinges squeaked as I entered. The scent of fresh-cut greenery drenched the room. My boots splashed through puddles as I walked past tables lined with rows of planters, my arms brushing trailing vines. Sweat beaded on my skin from the damp humidity weighing heavy in the air.
Past the tables, a set of steps led down to an open circle. Tropical trees laden with bananas and lemons dotted the perimeter. I inhaled the scents of ripening fruit. Other trees stood tall enough to reach the glass-paned ceiling. Trickling came from watering cans as a few gardeners poured liquid into planters. I straightened my dragon pendant as the gardeners’ eyes wandered to me, as if to remind them—and myself—that I belonged here.
The 7th Lie Page 11