by C. I. Black
Ivy shrank back, fear and disgust at herself churning within her. She was a drake. She was stronger than this. And yet he held her life in his hands. He could do whatever he wanted to her, and she wouldn’t be able to stop him. “I don’t know her name.”
Bolo snorted. “You’d be better at your job if you left your suite.”
“Her position in the chamberlain’s office is only one part of our investigative services,” Tobias said.
Bolo huffed.
“She never knows the drakes and yet my agents find them.” Tobias glared at the orange drake, and he shifted back. “Every time.”
“Yes, yes.” Regis brushed nonexistent lint from his doublet, feigning boredom, but his rage still boiled in his eyes. “You can’t name the drake. What was she after? What did she take?”
Ivy glanced at Tobias, unable to stop herself. Her locket told her Regis might be the prince, but Tobias was her boss.
Regis growled.
Her heart skipped a beat. “I don’t know what she was after. She pulled every book off the shelf and looked in many of them. Then she searched the Handmaiden’s desk and took a small scroll.”
“What was on the scroll?”
“I don’t know.”
Regis jerked to his feet and hissed at her.
She wrenched back, lost her balance, and tumbled onto her butt. Her pulse roared and every muscle tensed, the need to flee — as well as the need to fight even though she didn’t know how — screaming through her.
“What’s on the scroll?”
“The room only tells me what it remembers. The scroll had been in a box. If the scroll had been put in the box then brought into the room, it wouldn’t know what was on it.”
Regis glared at Tobias. “What’s on the scroll?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, find out.” Regis stormed from the room, with Bolo and the guards following.
Tobias growled, and Ivy’s pulse jumped again. His attention flew to her, and rage at her situation, at being trapped, and at Tobias for tricking her all those years ago, flashed through her. Followed by frozen panic.
With Regis wanting direct reports, and creepy Bolo knowing she never left her suite except for an assignment, escaping now seemed even harder than before.
CHAPTER 7
“The black drake took a scroll,” Tobias said, his voice harsh, tightening Ivy’s nerves until she was sure she’d shatter.
“Yes.” Her voice came out a whisper.
Tobias blinked as if he hadn’t really seen her then ran his hands through his wild locks and rolled his shoulders back.
“I really don’t know what’s on the scroll,” she said.
“Neither do I. And with the Handmaiden gone, the only other drake who would most likely know just had a fight with some Court guards and now I have to issue an official warrant for his arrest.”
“Grey?” Something within Ivy stuttered, but she wasn’t sure what, only that she’d mentally or emotionally gasped and couldn’t explain why. “Is he all right?”
“He gated out of Court before anyone could ask any questions.” Tobias frowned. “Why so curious? You’ve never been curious about anyone else before.”
“All that memory clinging to him,” Ophelia said from the doorway.
Ivy’s pulse picked up. Think about Grey and— and his memories— Don’t think about—
She stopped herself before she could think about her yearning to escape and have Ophelia’s magic to read minds pick up on anything.
“He’s an ancient drake,” Ophelia said. “I’m sure to Ivy his stuff is as bright as the sun at high noon on a cloudless day.”
Tobias cocked an eyebrow. “I’m almost as old as he is. So is Regis.”
Ophelia matched Tobias’s brow. “So imagine how hard it is for Ivy to hold her earth magic back when you’re around.”
Tobias pursed his lips, his gaze locked with Ophelia’s. Something passed between them, but Ivy wasn’t sure what. An unsaid understanding, maybe? Shared secrets that one of them held over the other?
Ophelia’s lip curled back, revealing a hint of teeth. Those and the whites of her eyes were the only things on her — among her dark hair, eyes, skin, and pantsuit — that were pale. Then her gaze dipped, giving Tobias dominance between them — although Ivy wasn’t certain any more if he was the dominant drake.
“Ivy has an identity on the culprit.” Tobias reached for his hair again, but stopped and crossed his arms tight against his broad chest instead. “Let’s get that. Then, Ivy, I need you to remember how to make a gate.”
“Make a gate?” Those words didn’t make sense. Gates were used to travel. They implied she was leaving Court, but she’d never left Court before. She barely left her suite.
“I have to assume the scroll isn’t the only thing the drake was after. I need you to go to the Handmaiden’s private residence and check for evidence our culprit was there.” Tobias glanced past Ophelia into the hall. “That, and it would be best if you were out of Regis’s sight for a while.”
Those words made even less sense. She belonged to Regis. Tobias had made that clear—
Except Ivy didn’t know if that was what he’d said or not, only that it was imprinted in her locket.
“You’re too valuable to lose on an accidental slip of his temper,” Tobias said. “Ophelia?”
“I’ll get her situated, get the culprit’s I.D., and update you in twenty.” Ophelia grabbed Ivy’s arm and tugged her to her feet. “Come on.”
Tobias tapped his temple, indicating Ophelia’s ability to read minds. “You got the gate location to the Handmaiden’s residence?”
“I’m insulted you feel you have to ask.” Ophelia guided Ivy into the hall.
Tobias sighed. “It’s been a tough day.”
“On top of a lot of other tough days, I know.” Ophelia said her power word, summoned a gate against the wall opposite the door, and pulled Ivy through.
The world went black, the familiar dark woolly air of Ophelia’s gate muffling Ivy’s senses, then her foot hit solid floor and they stepped into their living room.
Ophelia headed to the bookcase behind the beige overstuffed couch and shoved the large piece of furniture aside, revealing a safe hidden on the bottom shelf. Ivy couldn’t stop staring at her, her thoughts whirling. Was Tobias actually trying to protect her from Regis? Did the Handmaiden actually have a second, private residence?
“Yes, he is. You’re a valuable member of his team.”
And by member she meant tool.
“Don’t you forget that,” Ophelia said without looking up from entering the code for the safe. “And yes, according to Tobias, the Handmaiden does have a private residence outside of Court. We’ve been prepared for the chance you’ll have to leave Court on assignment for years now. We know you can create a gate at a gate anchor, which is good because there’s too much happening here for me to go with you.”
“I can create a gate?” She brushed her locket. Sure enough, imprinted there was the memory of being with Ophelia and learning a second power word to create a gate at Court’s anchor gate, which connected to another gate anchor somewhere in the human world. So, too, was the feeling that if she ever did that without permission, she’d be hunted down and brought back to Court… or worse.
Ophelia opened the heavy safe door and drew out a small blue booklet, a beige leather wallet, and a black purse big enough to hold the wallet and other necessities and with a strap long enough to sling across her chest. “This is your passport and credit card. You’re an American citizen and you live in Newgate.”
Only half of Ophelia’s words made sense. She didn’t know what a passport was or an American citizen. She’d never come across any of that while living in Court. Newgate, however, was the human city most drakes, particularly the younger and weaker ones, talked about.
“I should have told Tobias an hour instead of twenty minutes.” Ophelia pinched the bridge of her nose. “Grab your locket and don’t forget this. Don’t
ever forget this.” She glared at Ivy. “For you, leaving Court is dangerous. If you lose that locket, you lose everything. Even if I’m around, the memories of you on my ring and watch can restore some of your memories but they won’t be able to restore everything. Only our moments together. You’ll lose all memories of Tobias and of your time in Court.” The muscles in her jaw tightened. “You’ll lose all memories of Regis, and that could get you killed. He doesn’t know you can’t remember, only that you can read memories from rooms.”
Ivy shivered. Mother of All, she felt she was always going to be afraid.
A new, horrible thought flashed into her mind. If she lost her locket, did she also lose her power word?
“I hope not,” Ophelia said. “For years we worked on finding your earth magic and the power words to activate it. There are times when I sense the power word is instinctual, but I’m not sure. No one else is in your… situation. I don’t know what will happen if you forget it. I might have been able to convince Tobias it’s safer for you to work outside of Court for the next while, but he’s still sworn to the prince’s service and there’s more than just someone ransacking the Handmaiden’s chambers going on. Now, pay attention.”
Ivy focused on Ophelia past her whirling thoughts and fought not to think about how terrifying — or how hopeful — leaving Court made her feel. This was a chance to escape. It was also a chance that could kill her.
* * *
Tobias leaned against the fractured altar in the rebirth chamber. The cleanup of the debris and ash from the attack a few weeks ago had finally been finished. All that remained was the fissure slicing through the massive granite slab in the center of the room and the chips and cracks in the dragons sculpted around the pillars ringing the chamber and along the ceiling. Even without a century’s worth of dust, the place felt more like an abandoned temple than the living — albeit struggling — heart of dragon society.
And while the metaphorical heart of his people was struggling, his burned with rage. He didn’t know if Regis was responsible for ransacking the Handmaiden’s private chambers but because of his rule, he’d set up the environment where some drake thought it was a good idea.
Her private quarters!
He couldn’t get the thought out of his head. Their goddess was dead. The Handmaiden was the closest drake they had to a sacred presence. Just because she was gone didn’t mean anyone had permission to desecrate her things. Even if she wasn’t next-to-sacred, it didn’t give them permission.
“But drakes are desperate,” Ophelia said from the shadows beyond the pillars in front of him.
Tobias straightened, reached to run his hands through his hair, but managed to stop before completing the move. He’d already God damn broken himself of that habit. “You’re late.”
“Ivy had questions.” Ophelia eased from the shadows.
“I bet.” When Regis had learned of Ivy’s magical ability, he’d made it clear to Tobias she was to remain in the Royal Coterie’s employ — and Tobias still had no idea how the prince had known about her.
“Someone told him,” Ophelia said — as she’d said before when the conversation had come up. “No, I don’t know who, and we’ve got bigger problems than how we have to keep lying to Ivy to ensure her safety.”
“Yeah, like a drake ransacking the Handmaiden’s private chambers. Any whispers about what they might have been looking for?”
“No, but given the state of things, I doubt it’s good.” She pinched the bridge of her nose — a sign she was struggling to concentrate past the constant noise of other peoples’ thoughts in her head. “So far no one’s figured out Regis is succumbing to soul sickness. He has more sane moments than not. But that’s not going to last.”
“Have you confirmed Constantine is missing? Did Regis kill him?” If Regis had killed his father, that could be grounds to dethrone him. Of course, there still weren’t any good options to replace him. With Regis and Constantine the only gold drakes who’d survived the Great Scourge, there weren’t any other direct descendents of the royal line.
“Unless you look past Constantine’s line. He defeated the Zhongguo dragon empress before the Scourge, joining the two great dragon clans.” Ophelia brushed a hand over the foot of the dragon carved into the pillar beside her. “The other option is to go with a new Royal Coterie. Hunter hasn’t even raised a banner and drakes are talking about flocking to it.”
“You know better than I that Hunter will never take the throne.”
“He’d never take it willingly.”
“You’d honestly force the throne on someone who doesn’t want it?”
“Better than those who do,” Ophelia said.
“Do you have any names? Who’d follow Hunter’s banner?” Although if Ophelia told him, he’d be obligated to issue a warrant for those drakes’ arrests and report his information to Regis. Sometimes Tobias had mixed feelings about that. On one hand, he’d been the Royal Coterie’s chamberlain for hundreds of years. On the other hand, with the Handmaiden gone, rebirth as a method of punishment was off the table, and the alternatives made his stomach churn.
“I have nothing certain. Everyone has unsettled thoughts about Regis. You included. I can confirm that Constantine is gone. I slipped into his suite during the last guard change. It’s empty.” Ophelia pursed her lips. “I can only offer an educated guess that Regis didn’t dispose of him. In what I think are his sane moments, he’s worried about where Constantine is.”
“Which would imply Regis didn’t kill his father and had nothing to do with his disappearance.”
“I’ve also gotten nothing about what happened to Constantine from anyone on the Counseling Coteries.”
“So they weren’t involved.” A growl curled in Tobias’s throat. “So what the hell happened to him?”
“And is that the question we want to be worrying about? Regis’s sane moments are getting fewer and farther between and someone going through the Handmaiden’s chambers has made him more paranoid.”
Tobias snorted. “Is it paranoia if someone really is after you?”
Ophelia rolled her eyes. “If Ivy doesn’t come up with something, he’ll have her arrested.”
“Only if he can get his hands on her.”
“We both know that’s a terrible plan. If you keep her out of Court for too long, he’ll arrest you.”
“I’m hoping it won’t come to that.” Except he didn’t know how to avoid any of that. If Ivy did come through, someone else would jeopardize Tobias’s safety. Every day, more of him wondered if Hunter had had the right idea by leaving, but then Regis would have Tobias’s hoard — all his glorious piles of paper — and there wouldn’t be anyone to protect those special drakes employed by the Royal Coterie, like Ivy or Capri or Ophelia.
“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
The growl broke free. None of this would be an issue if the Handmaiden hadn’t left.
Except that wasn’t what made him so frustrated.
She hadn’t told him she was going. But that wasn’t it, either. It hurt to think she hadn’t trusted him, or that she hadn’t cared to mention she was leaving, or both. He’d thought — imagined? wanted? — that there was something between them, that all the time they’d spent together had meant something.
“I’m sure it did,” Ophelia said.
“But you don’t know, because she’s the only drake whose thoughts you can’t read.”
“Yes. But she didn’t tell Grey, either. He only figured it out a few hours beforehand because he noticed she was wearing shoes.”
“She never wears shoes.” Unless she was leaving Court. The vise grip in his chest tightened even more.
Shit. Pull it together. There were more important things to worry about than hurt feelings.
“Okay.” He ran his hands through his hair, too tired to fight the bad habit. “Ivy has her assignment. We’ve got until tonight to meet her at the rendezvous spot, so the mess with the Handmaiden’s chambers is as
taken care of as it can be until we have more information.”
“I’m still working on finding the leak in the Asar Nergal,” Ophelia said. “I’m off to talk with Nero once we’re done.”
“If you so happen to see Grey, find out what he knows about this scroll. I don’t want to be caught unaware if whatever is on it is powerful enough to make another drake think a coup is a good idea.”
“If Regis keeps up with what he’s doing, there will be another regardless.”
“I’m trying not to think about that.” Keep Court together and keep as many drakes as possible alive until the Handmaiden returns… if she returns.
The vise in his chest tightened even more. Mother of All, that couldn’t happen. Too many drakes depended on her. And maybe she’d just gotten fed up with all of them. Including him.
CHAPTER 8
Thick darkness surrounded Constantine. An inky suffocating miasma, it pressed around him, binding him tight in an eternal nothingness without beginning or end. He didn’t know how long he’d been there. A part of him thought he’d been asleep for a long time before the darkness. Another part didn’t think that was right but wasn’t sure how or why, while a bigger part screamed with desperate angry howling.
The screaming grew louder, and his pulse pounded faster. Agonizing flashes of searing lightning, cutting through his soul, exploded within him, consuming the miasma. Between one rapid thud of his heart and the next, the darkness vanished. All thought vanished.
He roared and wrenched against invisible bonds. His breath came in desperate pants, and he writhed against slices into his flesh that he couldn’t defend against. He couldn’t see the attacker, couldn’t tell when the next strike would come. There was only screaming and pain and a small whisper deep within his soul, crying for sleep, for the darkness, for anything to stop it.
Just end it. End him.
No.
Please. But he knew his pleas wouldn’t be answered. They never had before. He was agony and energy, trapped in a never-ending cycle. There always would be pain, as there always had been. And he deserved it. He didn’t know how or why, but core-deep he knew he did.