Jewel’s arms sagged, dragging the covers down to expose enough of her chest that I could see she sported little more than nipples.
“Okay, fine,” she said, glaring at me. “I guess it can’t hurt for you to know how small I am. If you tell anyone my secret, Phim’ll have you executed.”
Her mouth broke into an evil grin, which illuminated her entire face into a mask of devilish amusement. “And these, by the way,” — she dropped the covers completely and cupped her tiny breasts, one in each hand — “are a secret I’m sure you didn’t know, so give me your underwear. That is, if you ever want to see Oz alive again.”
Trying to keep from giggling with the knowledge of this particular secret, I hesitated. I’d known what I was doing when I started this rescue attempt, but now that the time had come to deliver on my promises, I couldn’t do it. I kept wishing it was Willow instead. I closed my eyes, not moving.
She gasped. “Oh, my! You really don’t want me, do you?”
Slowly, I opened my eyes and looked at her.
Scrutinizing me closely, she announced, “There’s someone else, I see.” Her eyes went cold. “That’s sweet, but hardly my concern.” She patted the bed beside her.
“Please, Jewel—”
“That fool Noir probably knows you’re here, you know,” the empress interrupted. “Without my word, you’ll be next on the executioner’s list.”
My heart stopped cold, only starting up again when I realized that she’d called Noir a fool. There was one gambit I hadn’t tried yet.
“I thought you liked Noir,” I asked cautiously.
She muttered something about parasites and Noir getting his comeuppance someday.
Fingering the datadots with the copies of Noir’s messages in my pocket, I grinned. Presenting my ill-gotten proof directly to the emperor would accomplish nothing besides incurring Noir’s wrath for my theft, but the empress had her own ways of using the information.
“What if I could help rid you of Noir forever? Would that be worth Prince Oswald’s life, and mine?”
***
We spent the night poring over the information on the datadot I’d given her and planning. I learned that our dusky Jewel possessed an intelligence that ranged far beyond mere cunning. Together, we hatched a plan to discredit Noir.
Opening the hallway door cautiously in the morning, I peeked outside and glanced up and down the hall before creeping out the door, silently shutting it behind me.
Padding down the hallway quickly, I chanced to look back just as I turned a corner out of sight. I’m not sure why I did it, but I regretted it instantly when I saw the bloated, reddened face glaring back from the other end of the hallway, taking note of the unexpected presence of an easily identified personal secretary to a condemned blood prince of the Eternal Empire.
Lord Noir’s burning eyes pierced my back as I ran back to my palace room.
Chapter 21
Paradise Lost
SLAMMING THE DOOR TO MY PALACE ROOMS BEHIND ME, I collapsed on the sofa to catch my breath. Loud snoring came from each of the bedrooms. After a minute, when my breathing was calmer and my heart no longer pounded in my ears, I investigated and found the Angels had taken one of the bedrooms each, evidently convinced I wouldn’t be returning before the morning.
Emotionally exhausted from Jewel’s strip game, I napped on the sofa until I was awakened by the smell of breakfast arriving. The aroma roused Oswald’s Angels, too, and they joined me mere seconds later, fully dressed and fully armed.
“It’s just some snowpig strips and Tuscan eagleswan eggs, guys,” I said wryly, gesturing vaguely at their drawn burners. “And they’re already cooked, so you can probably put those away.”
They pocketed the weapons and one of them nodded, but neither of them smiled.
“Go get some breakfast, men. I’ll be fine by myself.”
That got a grin from the junior Angel, but he turned stony-faced at a cutting glance from his superior. After they left, I sat down to enjoy my well-earned breakfast.
I barely set aside my finished plates when Lord Noir slithered in, without so much as knocking. Instantly, I regretting sending the Angels away. But, there was nothing to do about it now.
“Mister Ancel,” Lord Noir said malevolently, and the air chilled in his presence. “Did you enjoy your morning ... constitutional?”
Narrowing my eyes at the senator, I ignored his prod and asked, “What do you want, Noir?”
“Oh, nothing,” Noir said, wandering over to the sofa and plopping down on it. “I just thought I’d come and remind you to attend your prince’s execution this morning.” He raised a hand to half-cover his mouth and stage-whispered conspiratorially, “Wouldn’t want to offend the royals, now would we?”
My stomach turned. The man had gall, coming here and talking to me like that. I felt bile rising from my gut, inching its way up my throat.
“Or perhaps,” he said, with poorly-acted fake surprise, “you were planning on joining the empress for the festivities?”
That was the last straw. I’d had enough of Noir’s veiled threats and impotent investigations. It was time to lay my cards on the table.
“So, Noir,” I said, casually, walking around to the front of the couch to face him, “have you arrested Prince Vere’s bodyguard yet? I think it was Quewley, wasn’t it?”
Noir looked as though I’d smacked him with a wet fish. His mouth turned instantly to a sour expression and his eyebrows wiggled on his forehead as he blinked a few times rapidly. Clearly, I’d struck a nerve.
But, Noir recovered quickly. “What?” he asked, smoothly. “Why would I do that?”
“For Lord Sumter’s murder, of course?”
“Hmm,” Noir said, scratching his chin. “An interesting theory, but I wouldn’t put much credence in it.” He looked up at me and smiled.
On somebody else, the smile might have looked innocent, even sweet. On Noir, it looked revolting. Set amidst pasty, flabby cheeks, Noir’s smile gave the impression of a corpse whose only smile was shown not during his lifetime, but engineered by an undertaker.
“That’s odd, because I heard that you found Lord Sumter’s body before Vere’s hunt.”
Noir paled even more. “That servant of yours lies!” he shouted.
“Foster?” I asked innocently. “How did you know he was one of ours?”
Noir’s creepy smile returned. “Hearsay. The word of a servant against a senator. You don’t stand a chance and you know it.”
“Maybe not,” I said. “But you’re forgetting about Quewley.”
“Him again? What’s he got to do with it?”
I hesitated. When Noir had called us before the emperor to arrest Lord Oswald, I had thought he had somehow found out about Willow and me taking the Raven. But, if he knew, Noir would have threatened me by now, which he hadn’t done.
Unfortunately, Noir was right about Foster. It was just hearsay, unless Jewel used the information I gave her against Noir without revealing the source. Noir had pushed me into reacting brashly, without thinking, and in doing so, I nearly revealed my secret passage on his ship.
What could I say without letting him know I was there, with Willow?
“I have it on good authority,” I said carefully, “that Quewley killed Lord Sumter at someone else’s orders.”
“Good authority,” Noir said dismissively. “Prince Vere, I suppose?” He narrowed his pale eyes to tiny pinpoints. “Or maybe Lady Vere?”
Noir produced a datadot and held it aloft.
My heart sank. Noir had retrieved the copy of his messages from Jewel’s room after I left. The empress probably never even saw him take it. Noir undoubtedly had seen the contents already and knew what it was. It sounded as though Noir thought Willow had given me the datadot, but if he pressed Willow about it later, she would certainly deny it, and she might even tell him I was on the Raven.
“I suggest,” Noir said triumphantly, and groaned a little as he struggled to his feet,
“that you drop this line of inquiry.” He pocketed the datadot and turned away.
I swallowed and clenched my fists, steeling my resolve for the confrontation I knew I couldn’t avoid. “No.”
Noir stopped mid-step and slowly turned back to face me. His face pinched into a mass of wrinkles as he glared at me.
“That’s not the only copy, Noir.”
Noir said nothing.
“And I’ve already shown the empress what was in your messages. Destroying that datadot won’t change anything.”
Noir turned purple with rage. He stomped over to me and glared up at me, huffing his fetid breath upward at my face. “This isn’t a game, boy,” he screamed.
“No, it’s not,” I said calmly. “It’s negotiations. And here’s my deal. You don’t cause us any problems, and we don’t cause you any problems. It’s that simple. Take it or leave it.”
“I don’t take kindly to blackmail,” Noir yelled.
“Nor do I, Senator.”
Noir stomped away toward the door, then stopped suddenly and turned back with his undertaker’s smile. “You think you’ve beaten me, but you’re wrong. It’s a stalemate at best. I’ll see to it that your precious prince is no longer a suspect in Lord Sumter’s murder. But Quewley won’t take the fall, either, I promise you that.” He sneered. “Not that it will do Oswald any good after he loses his head in a few minutes.”
The hallway door behind Noir swished open. “Did I miss breakfast?” Lord Oswald said, glancing at the empty plates. He stared at Noir and added, “You shouldn’t have invited the senator to a meal, my boy; he never leaves any for the rest of us.” Oswald glided past Noir, patting his ample belly along the way, and stood beside me.
Noir’s face was scarlet, and his mouth worked several times, but no sound came out.
“Noir was just leaving, my Lord,” I said acidly. “He came to tell us he found Lord Sumter’s murderer.”
“Wonderful!” the prince said, and guided Noir to the door. “Thanks for stopping by, Noir,” he said, and pushed him into the hallway, slamming the door behind him.
Lord Oswald turned back to me and leaned against the door. “Did I ever tell you,” he said, his emerald eyes sparkling like gems, “I used to be a free man? Thanks to our fair empress, I am again.”
“Welcome back, my Lord,” I said, and smiled.
***
We wasted no time getting packed. For the moment, we were free to leave New Rome, and neither I nor Lord Oswald had any intention of staying long enough to get into trouble again. We sent the Angels ahead with our luggage, and I sent a message to the port master to have the Phoenix ready for immediate departure. Rushing to the jumpport, I turned the corner into the bay and nearly ran down Willow Vere, dressed in her unisex technician outfit.
“The emperor sends his regards and hopes you have a safe journey home,” she said to Lord Oswald. “And the empress extends her apologies for your ... inconvenience.”
The prince thanked her, and kissed her on the cheek before hustling on to the ship.
I waited behind for a few moments until my Lord was out of earshot. “Willow.”
She turned to me, and her eyes filled with that strange mixture of terror and longing again. Stuffing her hands in her waist pockets, she scrunched the fabric together, as if she were trying to hug herself at the waist. “Goodbye, Euclid,” she said softly. She hesitated for a second, pushing her hands together and apart repeatedly, still thrust in her pockets. She turned away, then she looked over her shoulder.
I watched her disappear into another bay — probably where her own ship was docked — then turned around and dashed inside the Phoenix, shutting her up tight behind me.
For the next two blissfully uneventful days and nights, headed home for Oasis, Lord Oswald and I relaxed, lounging around the ship while I brought him up to date on the situation at home.
***
I should have realized it was too easy, but two days without problems lulled me into a false sense of security. We slipped into orbit on the wrong side, and snaked our way downward and around to Oasisis jumpport. I didn’t recognize the port master’s voice, but he gave us the appropriate clearance, so I nosed the starship home.
Maybe the regular port master was just out sick today.
Grinning like idiots as we descended, I felt myself relax for the first time in a long time. Here, we weren’t in mortal danger from unexpected quarters. Here, we were the masters of our fate. Here, we were safe.
Sure, we had a little uprising to take care of first, but I had no doubt we’d be able to clean it up with the help of Oswald’s Angels. General Zanuck thought we had a week until the point of no return, and we’d only used up three days getting home. Four days was plenty of time to get things under control. My Lord had done it before, and he’d do it again.
Lord Oswald sighed. “For a while there,” he muttered to himself, “I didn’t think I’d see you again.” He stretched out his fingers to the viewport, cradling the palace in his hand like a precious stone.
The Phoenix shook and a panel behind us exploded in a shower of sparks.
“We’re hit!” I yelled, jarred by the unprovoked attack. I angled the starship steeply back up toward space. Switching on a replay screen, I traced the rapidly dissipating radiation trail to its origin, searching for our enemy’s location. “Got it,” I said, jabbing a finger at the screen. “There.”
My Lord went pale, and a chill went up my spine. The shot came from just outside the palace.
“Does this boat have any weapons?” Lord Oswald asked me, but his dull, defeated eyes told me he already knew the answer.
“No.”
“Can we still land?”
I glanced at a few readouts and ran a quick systems check. “Yes, but where?”
Lord Oswald smiled wickedly.
I knew that look well. I’d accompanied the prince on inspections of his Angels enough times that I knew exactly what that expression meant.
Once, in the middle of tactical discussions with General Zanuck, my Lord asked, “Euclid, my boy, what makes an officer?”
Admitting I didn’t know, Lord Oswald waved a hand at me dismissively. He took a sip of some homebrewed concoction Zanuck had confiscated from one of his officers, grimaced and swallowed three times. “Z?” he asked, choking out the word with an effort.
Zanuck put up a hand and ticked off the qualities one by one. “First, he makes a decision and sticks by it, driving the implementation. Second, he knows when to pull back from a bad decision, before it’s too late to recover. And third, he takes personal responsibility for the outcome, good or bad.” The general sat back in his chair, gloating, and took his own sip, with much the same reaction Lord Oswald had.
“And fourth,” my Lord said, his vocal cords loosening even as he spoke, “he always has a backup plan.”
The general nodded. “Right. You can’t go charging into battle thinking you’ll cut through your enemy like butter, and then come up with a new plan when it doesn’t happen. You’ll get massacred.”
Lord Oswald winked at Zanuck in approval. “Always have a backup plan.” He leaned forward in his chair and wagged a finger at me. “Don’t ever forget that.”
I hadn’t forgotten.
Seeing Lord Oswald’s wicked grin, I felt my lips tug into a similar smile. “So, what’s the backup plan?”
The prince laughed. “I’ve taught you well. I’ve got another port not far from here, hidden in the hills. It’s unmanned, for emergencies only, but there’s a jumper there.”
“Where to?”
Lord Oswald grinned. “I’ll take it in myself.” He got up and stood behind me, waiting for me to vacate the pilot’s chair.
Remembering the last time I’d seen my Lord behind the controls of a starship — the now-destroyed Mallard before this too-exciting voyage to New Rome — I hesitated.
Noting my reluctance, Lord Oswald patted my shoulder. “It’s okay, Euclid, I really did pilot starships. Trust me.
”
I relinquished my seat grudgingly, taking the co-pilot’s chair and watching my Lord like a hawk.
Lord Oswald dropped into the pilot’s chair and rubbed his hands. “Nice ride,” he said appreciatively, surveying the controls and status screens. After an interminable moment, he reached toward the console and punched in a few commands.
To my surprise, the Phoenix banked smoothly and nosed down gently. My Lord beamed when I stared at him, but my heart still raced, thinking that piloting an already-flying craft wasn’t all that difficult. It was landing that took some skill.
In a few minutes, we were gliding toward a cave hidden on a craggy hillside. My heart stopping, Lord Oswald slipped through the narrow entrance and executed a perfect landing inside the darkened space.
Shaking, I stood without a word and headed for the hatch.
My Lord went directly to the jumpport’s comlink and switched it on, along with the lights. Power in the emergency port, he explained while busily flicking switches on the consoles, was supplied by batteries charged from solar collectors hidden on the surrounding hillside, so the lighting was dim, but adequate.
The prince hailed General Zanuck on a secure channel. “Prearranged frequency,” he said, smiling slyly, “for this kind of situation.”
“Oz!” Zanuck’s voice crackled over the ancient comlink equipment. “I was wondering when you’d show up again.”
Lord Oswald grinned. “Not soon enough, Z. What’s going on around here? Somebody took a shot at us when we tried to land at the palace.”
Zanuck’s voice darkened; I could imagine a shadow falling across his face. “Sorry about that; they must have fired from outside the perimeter we set up. For now, your palace is safe, but we’re just barely holding them off. I’ve got Angels set up at each of the governors’, ready to move in if there’s a direct attack, but, so far, it’s just your palace. Vere’s men came at us several days ago, and we’ve kept them at bay since.”
Lord Oswald frowned and muted the comlink. “Must have been just after you left,” he said to me. “We need a command base. How was the palace the last time you were here?”
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