Christoph smiled sadly. “I suppose I deserve that.”
Ephraim began to ascend the stairs, then stopped. He moved the front flap of his coat, then reached into his waistcoat pocket, withdrawing the bright blue vial. He tossed it in Christoph’s direction.
Christoph leapt to his feet and caught it, then stared down at the vial in awe.
“Do something meaningful with your remaining time,” Ephraim muttered, then finished his journey up the stairs.
While Arhyen hadn’t appreciated being framed for murder, he felt sympathy for Christoph’s plight, and gave him a final nod. The medicine might prolong his life, but his disease would inevitably return.
Christoph raised his eyes from the vial to meet Arhyen’s waiting gaze. He gestured toward him with the vial. “This is enough to heal my entire body within minutes. The results won’t last forever, but it’s a start.”
“It can really heal you that quickly?” Liliana asked. “That’s absolutely fascinating.”
Christoph nodded, then lovingly secured the vial within his waistcoat pocket. “I’d tell you more if I could. All I know is it’s nothing short of a miracle.” He turned his gaze back to Arhyen, then with his free hand, gestured toward the open air where Ephraim had disappeared. “Take care of him, will you? I wouldn’t want another friend to let him down like I have.”
Arhyen nodded. “Thank you for your help, I suppose, though I wouldn’t get your hopes up about acquiring more medicine to last you once the vial is gone. The London Network has been severely weakened. I doubt they’ll be in a giving mood.”
Christoph nodded, a somber expression on his face. “I suppose you’re right. Perhaps I was never meant to cheat death in the first place.”
Arhyen nodded again, then gestured for Liliana to ascend the stairs ahead of him. He would have liked to agree with Christoph’s final statement, but he was beginning to make a regular habit out of cheating death, so he couldn’t, in good conscience, throw any stones.
Chapter 12
Arhyen followed Liliana up the stairs of the compound, leaving Christoph behind. Once they were back in the dreary light of the gray day, Ephraim made no further comment on his previous friend and employer. Arhyen suspected he was relieved to see the man alive, even after his massive betrayal. Not that he’d likely be alive for long . . .
With a final glance at the ruined compound, he sucked in a cold breath of air, prepared to venture back to Buckingham Palace. He found himself wishing he could talk to Wakefield about all he had learned. Had Wakefield actually been honest with him about the London Network’s intentions? It seemed so. He couldn’t help but wonder if those who worked for the London Network were truly his enemies. While he didn’t agree with keeping possible cures for diseases from the public, he wasn’t sure if they’d committed as many crimes as he thought. They had left Christoph alive after all, and had even provided him with medicine as part of their bargain, when they simply could have killed and replaced him with their automaton.
Although, they had created Hamlet, a ruthless killing machine. If they paid for nothing else, they should at least pay for that. He shook his head as they began walking, their boots crunching across the snow. Perhaps the London Network was already paying for their crimes. Hamlet was making them pay tenfold.
Liliana took his hand and gave it a squeeze, drawing him out of his thoughts. At first he thought she was simply being affectionate, then he noticed a woman trudging through the snow toward them. It was his mother.
“It’s about time I found you,” she groaned, continuing her approach. “My old bones are not fairing well in this cold.”
He took in her gray hair, pulled back into a tight neat bun, and her black dress in pristine condition. The shawl around her shoulders looked new too. Not only had she clearly not been out in the chaos of the previous night, but she apparently had found someone new to take care of her. There was always someone, wasn’t there? You could get far in London if you were willing to sacrifice your morals for someone else’s.
“What do you want?” he sighed as she reached them. “I thought you were arrested.”
She raised a thin gray brow at him. “And how did you know about that?”
“Ephraim and I tried to find you,” Liliana explained to her. “A child described those who apprehended you. At first we thought the Watch responsible, but when you were not in the jail, we deduced you’d been taken by the Queen’s Guard.”
“That I was,” she beamed. “They came asking after my son, and whether he had any friends I could point them to.”
Ah, Arhyen thought. Wakefield had omitted that they’d tracked down his mother. He supposed he couldn’t blame him, given he was desperate to find Hamlet. He realized too that his failure to cooperate with Wakefield initially had likely contributed to the current state of affairs with his mother.
“And are you here to take us to Wakefield?” he asked.
She blinked at him in surprise. “W-why yes. How did you know?”
“Explain,” Ephraim interrupted.
Arhyen turned to him. “Wakefield was the man with whom I negotiated my release, the same one we met in the street when one of Hamlet’s henchmen was killed. He had initially wished me to divulge any of my associates who might know the location of Hamlet. When I refused, he went looking for my mother, a logical choice since we share the same surname. She then found a way to make herself useful, rising from prisoner to employee.”
Catherine nodded. “That about sums it up. Now if you’ll come with me, Captain Wakefield is waiting.”
Liliana began to walk forward, but he held out an arm to stop her. “Waiting to speak with us, or to kill us?”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you truly believe I’d lead you to your death?”
He simply stared at her. She’d practically done just that with Hazel.
She pursed her thin lips, then sighed. “Wakefield bade me tell you they apprehended Hamlet’s device from Buckingham Palace, whatever that means. He assumes that since it wasn’t set off, someone must have interfered with Hamlet’s plan. If it was you, Wakefield is in your debt.”
“Whatever that means?” he questioned, then slowly smiled. “So you’ve been promoted to messenger then, nothing more. They’re wise to not share unnecessary information with you.”
“Don’t look so smug,” she growled. “At least I’m alive, and I’ve been offered protection, which is more than you were willing to do for your own mother.”
He sighed. In his mother’s eyes, everything would always be his fault. There was no point in arguing. “Take us to Wakefield,” he said finally.
Nodding as if satisfied, she turned and began walking back over the footprints she’d made in the snow.
After casting wary looks at each other, Ephraim, Liliana, and Arhyen followed.
Liliana recognized the area Catherine led them toward. It was a lot closer than Buckingham Palace. The tall white gates of White Heights loomed before them, heavily guarded by members of the Queen’s Guard along with several men in normal clothing. Most of the men were battered and bruised, with soot staining their uniforms and visible skin.
“Oh what I wouldn’t give to never enter this neighborhood again,” Arhyen muttered beside her.
Liliana agreed. They’d last entered White Heights to spy on Clayton Blackwood, and had nearly been captured in the process.
Catherine glanced back at them, but continued walking. She’d been uncharacteristically silent during their journey, and Arhyen had seemed all too happy to do the same.
Catherine approached the nearest guards, who both seemed to recognize her. They looked Arhyen, Ephraim, and Liliana up and down, then gestured for them to follow Catherine through the gates.
Liliana kept a close eye on the guards as they passed, not trusting the seeming truce. “Where do you think she’s leading us?” she whispered.
“No idea,” Arhyen muttered.
They followed an already well-trod path through the snow, walking g
ingerly on the slippery surface. Several of the guards left their posts to follow behind them, while Catherine continued to lead the way. Liliana noticed that a few homes showed signs of attack from the previous night’s chaos, but the damage was far less than the rest of the city had suffered. She wasn’t sure if it was mere coincidence, or if Hamlet had avoided the neighborhood since the wealthy homes of White Heights were usually well protected.
They walked onward until Catherine stopped before the guarded gates to a massive mansion, its tall walls matching the uniform white of the entire neighborhood. The building looked stark and cold in the surrounding snow.
The gate guards, dressed in the gold buttoned coats and the tall hats of the Queen’s Guard, did not move to admit them to the premises. Instead, the gates let out a hiss of steam and swung inward of their own accord.
“Are we sure about this?” Ephraim muttered under his breath.
Arhyen shook his head, but replied, “Do you have any better ideas?”
Liliana watched as Ephraim shook his head, then marched forward dutifully. The guards behind them cleared their throats, and Liliana and Arhyen jumped to follow.
Liliana sucked in an unsteady breath, then let it out to fog the air. She felt more uneasy now than she had all morning, like they were walking into a trap. A few guards marched behind them as they approached the mansion’s massive double doors, where four more guards were posted. It seemed like there was more security here than there had been at Buckingham Palace. Really, she was surprised there were still this many guards left alive.
Arriving at the double doors, one guard on each side opened them, revealing Wakefield waiting just inside. His dark blue uniform, bedecked with numerous medals, was rumpled and covered in soot, though his face was clean and his gray hair appeared freshly combed. He stepped back, arcing his palm outward, inviting them to come inside.
As they entered, Catherine stepped forward from the group, clearly expecting orders or some form of acknowledgement from Wakefield.
The doors behind them shut with a loud thud, followed by the sound of locks clicking. Liliana tensed at the sound, her nervous energy increasing.
Wakefield absentmindedly waved Catherine off. She scowled, then crossed her arms and waited as Wakefield spared a nod for both Ephraim and Liliana, then turned to Arhyen.
“I appreciate you coming,” he stated politely. “Queen Victoria would like a word with you.”
Liliana turned to Arhyen to see if he was as shocked as she.
His eyes practically bugged out of his head. “You must be kidding me,” he balked.
Wakefield narrowed his gaze. “I assure you, I’m not much of a . . . kidder. After I expressed my belief that you had something to do with Hamlet not using the device he’d mounted on the roof of the palace, the Queen asked that you be found, and brought to her at once.” He eyed Ephraim and Liliana in turn. “Along with your associates,” he added. “Now if you’ll please follow me.” He began to turn away.
“My son saved the Queen’s life,” Catherine interrupted, “surely he deserves a great reward.”
Wakefield halted. Turning toward Catherine, his gaze narrowed further. “Saved? Hardly. The Queen was not at the palace last night,” he assured. “We would never be foolish enough to leave her so vulnerable once the attacks began.”
Liliana used the distraction to take in the rest of the room. The tiles beneath their feet were a beautiful shade of ivory, with veins of peach and gold. The wall paper echoed the colors beautifully, accented by the gold and white furniture gracing the empty spaces of wall not taken up by doors. Just judging by the entryway, the estate seemed fit for a queen. Could she really be in the same building as them?
She turned back to see Catherine’s face pink with rage, but she did not interrupt further as Wakefield began to lead them toward one of the nearby doors.
Left with little choice, they followed.
Arhyen gave Liliana a grimace as they walked, clearly stating, I should never have brought you here.
A guard moved to open the door where Wakefield had led them. One by one, they filed into a long hallway bedecked with ornate rugs and paintings in gold frames. The hallway ended with an open door, leading into a large room dominated by a massive, dark wood table. Liliana’s eyes darted around as they entered to room. At one end of the massive table sat a somewhat plump elderly woman in an ornately patterned blue brocade dress. Though the lines on her face hinted she was likely in her seventies, her erect posture and keen glint in her eyes made her seem far younger. At her back stood two more uniformed guards, along with several more posted at the large windows lining one side of the room, and two at either door. Glancing at the guards’ rifles and rapiers, Liliana suddenly felt small and vulnerable.
As if on cue, one of the guards at the Queen’s back stepped away to stand near the window.
Wakefield moved forward to replace him, then held his arm out in a sweeping gesture.“May I present to you, her most gracious majesty, Empress of India, Queen Victoria.”
The seated woman smiled as Ephraim, Arhyen, and all of the guards bowed.
Liliana watched wide-eyed, then practically fell to the floor, mimicking their behavior before it was too late.
“Please rise,” the Queen said kindly. “Now is not the time for formalities.”
Blushing, Liliana rose with everyone else, then looked to the Queen for further instruction.
Victoria’s gaze settled for a moment on her, making her gulp, then next moved to Ephraim, then Arhyen. “Which of you is Mr. Croft?”
Arhyen stepped forward and bowed, making Liliana wish she’d at some point studied the proper protocol for meeting a queen. The behavior seemed to come naturally to Arhyen.
“You have my thanks,” Victoria continued, her eyes lingering on Arhyen’s dirty clothes. “While I was not in the palace during the attacks, you have undoubtedly saved countless lives.”
Arhyen mumbled, “I was only doing what was right,” then bowed again, deeper than before, appearing more naive with the protocol than it first seemed.
The Queen simply smiled at his behavior, then gestured to the other guard who’d remained at her back, a man in his mid to late fifties, with graying black hair and a neatly trimmed beard. The man stepped around the table, then approached Arhyen. As he reached him, Liliana noticed a rolled piece of parchment in his hand. He extended it to Arhyen, then returned to his post behind the Queen.
With a nod of encouragement from Victoria, Arhyen unrolled the parchment.
Liliana leaned a bit to her right, attempting to see around his shoulder to the parchment he now read, but before she could, he lowered the parchment to his side, unaware of her effort to see.
“A pardon?” he questioned.
Victoria nodded. “For all of your crimes. Captain Wakefield researched you fully, it seems you’ve had a minor, yet busy career.”
Liliana was quite sure she could hear Arhyen gulp.
“It will all be forgiven,” she continued, “if you do your queen one last favor.”
Arhyen cleared his throat. “And what might that favor be?” he asked boldly.
Wakefield bristled at his tone, but did not speak.
Victoria smiled a little wider. “I would like you to go into the city and start an uprising. I want you to give Codename Hamlet exactly what he desires.”
If Liliana thought she was dreaming before, she was quite sure of it now.
“Why?” Arhyen blurted.
Wakefield stepped forward, his hand on his pistol. “How dare you-”
The Queen cut him off with the raise of her hand. “It’s quite alright, Captain. I will answer the question. The lad needs to know just what he’ll be attempting to achieve.” She turned her gaze back to Arhyen. “I’m going to skip the formalities and assume you know about some of the scientific discoveries in the possession of the London Network. I will also assume you know that Hamlet hopes to expose our organization, after fatally weakening it. If he has his way,
the people of London will learn just what has been kept from them. Not only that, but they’ll learn that their homes were destroyed, their loved ones’ lives lost, all for science. It is the latter I hope to avoid. I would like you to lead a revolt, demanding better treatment of London’s lower class. You will demand food for the hungry, shelter for the homeless, and better wages for the working man. You will storm the palace, and after a short negotiation, I will give in to your demands.”
Rolling her eyes at Arhyen, she raised her hand again. “Before you once again so rudely ask why, I implore you to think about what I have said.”
Liliana watched Arhyen as he seemed to mull things over. She hoped he understood what the Queen was asking, because she surely did not.
After a moment, he nodded. “If enough witnesses see you giving in to my demands, the people will begin to believe that that’s what all of this violence was about. They will believe their fellow citizens rebelled in hopes of gaining them better treatment. They surely will not blame their peers for violence in the name of equality, and their ruler will appear magnanimous for giving in to such demands. London will be rebuilt, and no one will ever know just what Hamlet was fighting for.”
The Queen nodded. “I see my suspicions were correct, and I was wise in choosing you. Do you agree to my terms?”
Arhyen seemed to think for a moment. “So, you want me to lead a revolt and lie to my fellow citizens, and I will be pardoned of all crimes.” He glanced back at Ephraim and Liliana. “I assume my associates will be pardoned as well.”
Liliana’s back stiffened as the Queen’s gaze landed on her. “Yes,” she replied, “and your associates as well.”
“You have a deal,” Arhyen agreed.
A shiver ran down Liliana’s spine. Was this truly the right choice? She turned toward Arhyen, who looked back and offered her a subtle nod, but she still couldn’t help but feel he’d just signed their lives away.
Together, Arhyen, Ephraim, Liliana, and Catherine left the Queen’s temporary abode in White Heights. Liliana cast a wary eye on Catherine, unsure why she was joining them, but she hadn’t asked questions. She had been more than ready to get out of the mansion and away from the Queen’s eerie gaze.
Under Clock and Key (The Thief's Apprentice Book 3) Page 14