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The Gadgeteer Box Set

Page 36

by Gin Hollan


  She felt Sam relax. She was about to back away when his arms tightened around her just a bit more and he bent down to kiss the crook of her neck. "That's good enough for now," he whispered.

  "I'm not even sure a marriage over here would be legally binding back home," she said.

  "Married before God. That's all I care about. Do we need a priest for that, or would a friar do?” he wondered.

  "Our friar is a conscript, serving prison time there instead of in the military. He's not an actual friar."

  "He's what?"

  "He's a serial thief with a strange sense of justice."

  Sam frowned.

  "He steals what others have first stolen, but instead of returning it, he sells half of it and uses the other half to get them caught by authorities."

  "What an odd ethic," he said, turning his face back into Arabeth’s neck and kissing her lightly. "And paperwork won't matter until you're pregnant.”

  "Okay, we're done talking about this," she said, pushing herself away.

  "Too serious? Too fast?"

  She nodded. Too real. And oh, so tempting. Everything about Sam seemed designed to please her and that meant he was too good to be true.

  Had he spent so much time around her that he'd found a way to become her ideal? She rolled her eyes. She was making excuses. It's not like he could choose to be her ideal height and body type, or have her ideal eye colour and timber of voice....

  "I'm going upstairs." She looked for Marble and saw the fox stalking shadows down the hall. Melanie had warned her that Sam had changed after Arabeth got married. She wanted to get a good look at what those changes were. "Marble, this way," she called out.

  She had to be on her guard. Here, in the land of potential danger around every corner, the real Sam would come out. She'd be watching.

  * * *

  "Melanie, how do you define love—the heart one? Not lust."

  "I left you alone with Sam too long again, didn't I?" Melanie chuckled. "Your purchases arrived." She pointed to a stack of bags on a small table. "I'm going back to sleep. You wouldn't have pain killers in there, would you?"

  "We should get a doctor to look at you. Is it a headache or more of a body ache? We should find Kennen. He says he's a healer."

  "It's all over. I can't move without hurting, but sleeping takes care of it. It's like I'm rusty."

  Arabeth looked through the bags until she found one from the pharmacy. "Here. Pace yourself. You don't want to become dependent."

  "I know," she said, taking the bottle Arabeth pulled out. "How long are they keeping us locked up here?"

  "Clara didn't say when she'd come for us, but it would have to be ahead of the time Mr. Weatherstone plans to get us. Why?"

  "I still want to look around. I'm sure I'll never be back here, and it's strangely familiar."

  Arabeth frowned. "Familiar?"

  "Don't worry, but ever since the crystal field, I have impressions of places and people before we even get to them. And ... I know this is just the sleepy talking, but now and then I think I can hear voices. No one near us. Just random snips of chatter. They don't make sense."

  "Maybe not. One of the uses for those crystals is long-distance communication. I wonder if you're being influenced by them." Arabeth reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the one she'd snuck from Sebastian's field. "Does anything happen when you hold this?"

  "You have an undamaged one," she whispered, reaching out cautiously. Taking it, she put it in the palm of one hand and closed her fingers around it. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she closed her eyes, smiling. "Never mind that painkiller."

  "It's late. Dinner was a couple hours ago. And before you sleep…." She pulled a silky blue bundle out of a bag, followed by an ocean green one. "Which do you prefer?"

  Melanie opened her eyes and pointed at the blue one. "What is it?"

  "Some proper sleepwear." Arabeth tossed it to her friend. "Change before you pass out."

  Melanie slipped into the bathing room to change, giving Arabeth a chance to change as well. As she unfolded the tunic and pants, she ran her hand over the material and stitching, appreciating the moment. The loose, flowing fabric felt amazing on her skin. She'd sleep well tonight, she smiled. As she straightened the collar and checked herself in a standing mirror, she promised this outfit would go straight into her backpack when she dressed the next day.

  Arabeth went back to the bags and sorted the contents into three piles: what was hers, what was Melanie's, and what was for the common good of the group. She'd had some things bought for the guys too, including nightwear. Hopefully a comfortable, good night's sleep would put everyone in a better frame of mind tomorrow.

  Melanie still hadn't reappeared. Arabeth knocked on the bathroom door. "Mel, you didn't fall asleep in there, did you?"

  Arabeth knocked louder. "Wake up, sleepy. Your bed is out here."

  Melanie eased the door open. "That's only a little embarrassing." She shuffled past and fell over on the bed, head to pillow, hand still clutching the crystal. Arabeth stared at Mel's hand, wondering if she would mind giving it back now that she felt better, and was mostly asleep. Melanie tucked her hands into her stomach and curled protectively around it.

  "Relax, I wouldn't actually take your new pet away." She giggled at the comparison and looked for Marble. The little fox had made itself comfortable on a large, soft chair by knocking a couple decorative pillows over but not off, then curling up behind them. She wanted to get a look at the crystals she had soaking in the wagon. They should be cleared of the toxin by now, right?

  One other thing she'd requested was a guidebook to the area. Opening it, she took the seat opposite Marble's. Instantly, she wished for tea and got up again.

  Someone knocked on the door between her room and Sam's. As she opened it, Sam leaned in and whispered.

  "I think we should pretend to be married while we're here," he said.

  Arabeth blinked rapidly a moment from the sudden suggestion.

  "You've been drinking. I’ve barely had time to get settled, and you're already in the whiskey?" she said back.

  "You know it’s more than that. You know I've been in your thrall since we were nine years old and I was running errands for your grandfather."

  "And you really mean we should pretend?" She narrowed her eyes, wondering if this was a tactic or a cruel joke. He hadn't shown more than a passing interest since their first conversation, months ago.

  "Arabeth, I'm serious. I think you'll be safer. We all will.”

  “Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

  He shook his head. “Let's go somewhere and talk now.”

  A throat cleared behind Sam and he turned.

  “I'm going to go look around. You two can talk here.”

  Arabeth's heart started racing. She didn't want this conversation. Not now. Not ever. The outside door clicked as Graham left. Arabeth glanced behind herself. Melanie was sound asleep again.

  “I'm not ready for this conversation. I know you don't want to pretend, and I think it would be cruel to do that to you.”

  “So let's not pretend.” He reached out and pulled her to his side of the door, closing it behind them.

  She was exhausted and he was making her angry on top of it. She didn't want to talk about marriage again. Ever. To anyone.

  “I'm a good friend. That's how this should stay.”

  “I get it. Your first husband died. That had to be hard on you.”

  “No, it's not that....”How could she make him understand? Maybe he'd give up and find a good wife if he knew the truth about her. “I know the truth about marriage now. It's about money, and connections. It's about perpetuating an estate.”

  “For some, maybe. I'm not like them. My heart went to you the day we met, back when I had no idea about your family or status. If anything is a hindrance, it’s that status of yours.”

  Arabeth felt her teeth clenching and relaxed her jaw. Maybe she should tell him the nasty truth about her mar
riage. He deserved to know, in a way. He needed to understand why she resisted him. She looked around for his whiskey bottle, hoping they called it liquid courage for a reason. She poured herself a small amount, suddenly not caring to wait until it was in her system, but drinking it nonetheless.

  “Look, Sam ... I didn't have the kind of marriage people thought I did. I was a prisoner, mostly. I couldn't leave the house unless it was to visit my parents, or run errands. That was hard enough, but ... the part that people think is a natural, expected thing in a marriage ... he wouldn't approach me in bed. He said...." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "He said I did nothing to arouse him and I was no one to be seen naked anyway. He married my estate, not me, and I won't let myself be that vulnerable again."

  Sam took one of her hands and led her to a cushioned chair next to a small table before sitting in the chair opposite. "Do you know why they didn't let you near his body, even though you'd heard about the accident and gone to the coroner’s office?"

  "I know he wasn't alone where they found him, and that he had several lovers over the years. We had separate bedrooms but I could hear him leave most nights around two a.m. The next day, his laundry smelled of cheap perfume and other clichés of the unfaithful man. The only normal part of our marriage was that we still sat down at dinnertime. It became routine and we both went on with our lives in that way—he with his work and lovers, me with my gadgeteering."

  She stopped short of the most embarrassing truth—her family had traded her for political gain. But Sam didn't want to just pretend. He had proposed once before, and she resisted.

  “He'd promised to leave me on our seventh anniversary. He was going to fake his death.”

  Sam shook his head. "Arabeth, at the time I had no idea. It wasn't until his death that I knew. You looked happy anytime I saw you in town."

  He was so serious, it caused her already knotted stomach to flip. She finished her drink in one gulp. She couldn’t say she was happy in those moments because she saw him, missed him.

  "I trust you and care about you. I know you care about me, but I'm not sure I can ever be that vulnerable again," she repeated. “You are my best friend, and I can't throw my issues on you. You deserve a fully committed, doting wife.”

  "I don't want that," he insisted. “And there have been women who’ve offered.”

  As their eyes met, she saw a story in them that she wasn't sure she was ready for. She realized she might as well tell him the whole truth. “I was happy out in the light and life of the city on the rare occasion I could get out, but I smiled because of you. We were good friends, and I had missed our talks, our friendship. It rankled me that something as simple as a marriage agreement meant losing my best friend.”

  “We both hid our pain well, it seems.” He sat back again, face serious. "Since we're being brutally honest…. I'm sworn to secrecy on this, but you deserve to know. The makeup and perfume on his clothing were his own. His lovers were male. When they found him, he was dressed as a woman, and quite convincingly, I might add."

  Arabeth laughed. Looking at Sam, he was serious.

  "Wait, really?" she asked, feeling an odd tingling settle through her as what he said sank in.

  "His tactic of wooing your family first was clever and devious." He leaned back in the chair. "It was a hard lesson, for both of us. Yes, I would marry you in a heartbeat, but for now, let's pretend. It's for your safety. I've heard about some of the practices in this country, and it seems a lone, unattached woman is considered kind of like a feral horse—if you capture and tame her, she's yours."

  Arabeth sputtered a cough and stood up. “Well, then ... maybe in public we should. What about Melanie and Graham? Should they pretend as well?”

  “Graham is not in favour of the idea. He thinks Melanie's current state puts her off-limits, anyway.”

  “Let's hope so,” Arabeth said thoughtfully. “I want to believe you, Sam. We're both different people from who we were years ago. I will agree to pretend, in a way that is publicly acceptable and decent, but only until we get back home.” She hoped she wouldn't regret this, but for now, it did seem to be the wise choice. She had to admit, it might be nice to have someone hold her hand now and then, or lean in and whisper things that made her laugh or blush. A companion, as well as a friend.

  // Chapter 21 //

  ARABETH NEEDED to sneak out. Mel was sound asleep, as evidenced by her light snoring. Marble napped on the chair still. The world around her slept, but Arabeth doubted she'd be able to.

  Sam had told her some interesting things. The gaps in the logic around her marriage started to fill in and make sense. Sleep problems aside, she had a rule about not falling asleep with alcohol in her system. She'd be safe walking around inside the hotel, she hoped.

  Changing into her clothes, she walked out and almost burst out laughing when she saw Sam outside of his own door.

  He walked to her and took one of her hands, kissing her palm. "Sleep is the last thing on my mind," he said.

  She gave a light laugh. "I couldn't sleep if I tried."

  "Walk with me?" he asked.

  She nodded.

  "We're going back to the crystal field by the cave once Mel and Graham are gone, right?" she asked.

  "Yes, we must have missed something along the way," he agreed.

  "The mural bothers me. I think it deserves a second look."

  "Easy enough."

  "And these crystals ... if they are used for communication, we should find out how," she added.

  They reached the swing lifts and went down. To their surprise, Kennen was sitting in the lobby, reading.

  "Don't you sleep?" Sam asked.

  "I'm waiting for instructions. If you are done in Owen, as it seems you are, I need to know if I continue with you or go back to the friary."

  "So you're waiting for a messenger?"

  "Sort of." He shrugged. "It's complicated."

  "We couldn't sleep. I'm blaming the harmonics of this place," Arabeth said. "There is a constant hum here."

  Kennen looked at her, head slightly tipped to one side. "Really? I don't hear it."

  Sam shrugged. "She's sensitive. It makes her an exceptional gadgeteer."

  "I guess it would," Kennen said, face straight, but his eyes looked like he was laughing.

  Arabeth nudged Sam with her elbow. "Let's go look at the centre tower. The fact that plants grow so well down here is puzzling me."

  “I'd like to talk strategy with our friend here,” he said, looking at Kennen.

  “Ah, good idea.” Without Graham around, they might actually accomplish something.

  The three walked to the dining area. It was a different place at night, with dim lighting, soft music, and what looked like an alcohol display.

  They had just sat down in a booth when Clara walked up. "Hello, friends. Are you ready to move on?"

  Arabeth frowned. "Why is everyone in a hurry to get us away? Not just here, but the last two places we went did the same thing. A warm welcome, then shortly after, a quick brush-off."

  Clara shrugged. "I can't speak to their reasons, but I'd like to get you home before someone in the capital realizes you're exiles and we've hosted you willingly. It's been a long time, but we do know the penalty."

  "We thought we had until morning," Arabeth said.

  "Now would be better. Best you do it quickly. I'll wait for you here," Clara said, sitting.

  Arabeth, Sam, and Kennen jogged to the lift, then down the hall. Nearing the room, they saw several men in suits knocking on doors then walking away when they opened, as though they were searching for someone specific. "Are they with Clara?" Arabeth wondered out loud.

  "I think she would have mentioned them," Sam said.

  "I guess we're sticking to plan A." Arabeth shook her arms out and wished she had her satchel.

  "Wait, they're not at our doors. Not yet."

  "How can we sneak in?"

  "We could use a diversion."

  "Fire alar
m. They'd have a fire alarm in here, right?" Arabeth suggested.

  "Brilliant. Let's find it."

  They hurried down the hall, away from the men in suits.

  "There's an electric fire alarm system here. I'll trigger it and you use the chaos to slip in and get them out. Ready?" Kennen said.

  "Thank you, Kennen. Where should we meet up?"

  "I'll find Clara after I set the alarm off. Meet me at the place where Melanie broke the camera. They won't have it replaced yet," Kennen suggested.

  "All right. There's our plan," Sam said.

  Kennan stepped back out and stretched his arms around as though he was coming out of a room looking for a late-night snack. He stared at the men a minute as though curious, then shrugged and walked away.

  When no one opened Melanie's door, then Graham's, the suited men turned and stood guard in front of them. Melanie and Graham were effectively prisoners.

  A high-pitched whine started, growing louder and increasingly harsh. The fire alarm. Soon the halls were flooded with people. Arabeth and Sam ducked through the mounting panic and slipped into the nearest of the two rooms as the guard tried desperately to keep from being kicked around.

  Inside, they found Melanie and Graham dressed, packed, and ready to run.

  "How did you know?" Arabeth asked. "Never mind—explain after."

  She grabbed her backpack and picked Marble up. There was no way she'd risk her. "I'll go out the other door and keep them looking the other way. Meet where you broke the camera."

  "But you don't know where that is," Melanie protested.

  "I know the general area." Arabeth pushed Melanie toward the door. "Go."

  Sam followed her through the adjoining room door and to the other exit.

  "Go with them—they might need protection," she said.

  "Not a chance." Sam smiled. She shook her head, but she knew he'd be stubborn about it.

  She cracked the door and there were still a lot of people running, screaming, hurrying. Too many, she thought. A significant amount of the commotion was to the right of their doors. This must be Clara's doing, Arabeth realized.

 

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