“Why don’t Angie and I go, since Bashrik and you will be busy with the lab and the serum?” I suggested.
Navan immediately frowned at me. “You two go, alone? I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Well, I have no idea how to make potions, and neither does Angie. Our skills will definitely be better suited to the task of scoping out Yorrek’s place, and we need to utilize our time as efficiently as possible. I promise we’ll be careful.” Besides, it had been ages since Angie and I had had any alone time to catch up on things. If nothing else, I was intrigued to know exactly what was going on between her and Bashrik. It would be the perfect opportunity to ask.
“I still don’t like it,” Navan grumbled.
“They’ll be okay,” Bashrik said firmly, and I couldn’t help but gawk at him. I hadn’t expected him to back me up on this, given that he was usually the bundle of nerves. Then again, I was guessing he was probably motivated by the prospect of getting some headspace, being apart from Angie for an hour or two. “It’s not going to be that dangerous a task. They’re just scoping out the area. Riley’s definitely done more dangerous things. As long as they keep their faces covered and their intentions vague, they’ll be absolutely fine.”
Navan’s expression was still sour, but it was clear he wasn’t going to argue. He needed to get used to the idea that he couldn’t always be around to protect me, shadowing my every move, and I needed to develop a sense of self-reliance here on this alien planet.
Saying that, I knew I’d take my knives along with me, in case anything unexpected happened. I had learned to be cautious, my mind always expecting the unexpected.
After all, that seemed to be Vysanthe’s motto.
Chapter Ten
Navan and Bashrik joined us as we returned to the palace chambers to grab a few things. Much to my delight, I found that a stack of shirts had been delivered. They were waiting for me on the bed, each bearing the flexible wing-slits in the back. I knew I wasn’t likely to need my wings on the journey to Yorrek’s house, but I couldn’t help myself. I threw one on eagerly, knowing it would make my life a whole lot easier. It was the closest to coldblood I’d ever felt. Suitably dressed, I moved over to the big trunk in our apartment’s living room. I couldn’t access the bandolier of throwing knives I kept in the training center, but I had a spare one stowed away in the trunk, ready for occasions like this.
“Where did you get those?” Bashrik whistled as we entered the chambers that Lauren and Angie shared so Angie could pick up her jacket. Bashrik had his own room, farther down the same hallway.
I smiled, feeling proud of my bandolier and the personalized blades slotted along the length of the leather-like material. “It was a gift from Queen Brisha,” I explained, fastening my coat around myself to keep the weapons hidden.
Bashrik paled. “You should see the pile of things that keep coming to my door from her. There’s more and more of every day,” he groaned, gesturing toward a mountain of objects that stood against the far wall of the living area. “I even had to ask the girls if I could put some stuff in here. It was getting ridiculous in my chambers.”
I walked over to the pile of gifts. There were gems and jewels, cuffs and bracelets, all still in their packaging. There were vials too, though the majority looked untouched.
“Has Queen Brisha actually talked to you about this?” I asked, turning back to him.
“Not yet. I’m dreading she’ll make an appearance, one of these days,” he muttered darkly. “There is one thing I’ve been eager to try, however…” He walked over to the pile of gifts and plucked a small blue vial out of a wooden box. “In fact, I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”
“What is it?” I asked, frowning at the little glass bottle.
“The blood of a Haligon. It arrived this morning, with a note for me to have an enlightening breakfast,” he explained. “It’s supposed to be some of the finest blood in the universe, though it’s super rare. How she got her hands on it, I’ve got no idea. Though, I suppose she is the queen.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I was saving it for this evening, but I might have it now, to get me through the rest of the day,” he said, removing the stopper and lifting it to his lips.
Navan rushed past me in a blur, swiping the vial out of Bashrik’s hand with a violent shove. The glass bottle crashed to the ground and shattered into a thousand pieces, a deep purple liquid oozing out.
“What the hell, man!” Bashrik yelled, his expression shocked.
“I knew that’s what she was up to,” Navan said, dipping a finger in the liquid and bringing it up to his nostrils, sniffing it intently.
“Care to tell me what’s going on?” Bashrik asked, his tone still tense.
Navan flashed his brother an apologetic look. “We were asked to get some things from the market last night, for the queen. Pandora caught us sneaking out, so we couldn’t exactly say no. Anyway, I thought nothing of it, until I read the list again. It reminded me of something, but it had been so long since I’d made one, I couldn’t be sure of the ingredients. I just knew something felt off. Now I know why. She made you a love elixir, Bash. That’s what’s in that vial.”
Bashrik looked aghast. “I knew she’d come for me eventually,” he whispered, horrified. “I kept thinking I could keep her at bay… but this? This is taking things to another level! How am I supposed to fend off the advances of a queen, for Rask’s sake!” he cried, much to my amusement. I couldn’t help it—it was too comical not to laugh. Even Navan looked like he was struggling not to chuckle. Angie, however, remained stony-faced, strangely not amused at all by the events.
“You be a man, and tell her you’re not interested,” she said firmly, before turning from the room, flipping up her hood and pulling it tight around her face.
I shrugged, then followed, leaving the two coldbloods speechless in the apartment. I guessed it was always good to keep them on their toes.
* * *
Angie and I set off on foot to find Yorrek’s house. I kept thinking about the wing serum in my pocket, wanting to feel the power of the wings behind me, but knew they would be pointless with Angie here. I didn’t want to risk carrying her without Navan present. I wasn’t quite that confident yet.
“I can’t believe she’s sending him all these things. Doesn’t she have anything better to do?” Angie muttered as we walked along. “Honestly, as queen of half a nation, you’d think she’d have something more important to keep her busy. I’m sick of hearing Bashrik knock at my door every morning, and then having to deal with whatever gift she’s sent because he can’t fit it in his place.”
“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” I said, nudging her arm.
She scowled. “I’m not protesting. I just think, as leader of half a planet, she should be able to prioritize. I hardly think chasing after some nobody coldblood is a good use of her time, not when she should be focusing on bringing about peace, or war, or whatever it is she’s doing in this stupid conflict with her sister,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “Plus, I don’t think it’s fair to Bashrik. I mean, sending gifts is one thing, but making a love potion? It’s borderline pathetic, and frankly immoral. Bashrik doesn’t like her, so she should let it go.”
“The lady definitely protests too much.” I chuckled, knowing my teasing was infuriating her. And yet, I could see the truth in all of this: she had feelings for Bashrik. She just couldn’t admit it to herself. As her friend, it was my duty to get an honest answer out of her. “It’s okay if you like him, you know,” I said, softening my tone.
“I don’t like Bashrik!” She snorted, as if the idea were ludicrous.
I grinned. “I think you do. Why else would you be so bothered about what Queen Brisha does? I mean, we’ve all been that girl, pining over a boy who doesn’t like us back. I would’ve expected sympathy from you, but instead, all I see is jealousy,” I prodded.
“I am not jealous of the queen and Bashrik,” she insisted tersely. “The queen can
do whatever she wants. I just don’t think she should be forcing Bashrik to like her. I’m not interested in who he does like. I’m just interested in seeing injustices stopped, that’s all,” she added vehemently, her cheeks turning a bright shade of scarlet.
“‘Injustices stopped.’” I smirked. “Really, now. You can’t fool me, Angie. I know what it’s like to have feelings for one of these coldbloods, and I know how weird it is to admit. Once you do, you’ll feel better,” I said encouragingly, though Angie wasn’t having any of it.
“I don’t like him, Riley! How could I?” she ranted. “He’s so full of himself! I don’t think I’ve ever met a man so arrogant. Yes, his drawings and buildings are some of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, but that doesn’t give him the right to brag all the time. And he’s always so condescending, like I’m this useless little creature that has to be protected. Whenever I step up onto the building site, he puts his arm around me, as if he’s expecting me to trip on a pebble or something. I tell him off, but he keeps doing it! Not to mention the fact that he thinks he’s right all the time, and he never backs down when he’s wrong. Besides, he’s way too tall for someone like me, and I wouldn’t even know what to do with muscles like that. It must be like cuddling a block of cement. No way do I like him—not a chance!”
I sighed, holding up my hands in surrender. “Okay, if you say you’re not interested, then I believe you,” I lied, knowing full well that she didn’t believe my words either.
As we continued on through the city, I let the topic rest, talking about less incendiary subjects instead. We discussed how the building was coming along, and how she was enjoying her peculiar apprenticeship in architecture, while she asked about my military training and the adventure in the cave the night before. It was nice just to wander and chat, the way we would have done if we were back home. Glancing at her, I realized I missed it. Navan was handsome and charming and wonderful, but sometimes a girl just needed her friends. If Lauren had been here too, I knew it would have felt complete.
It was a fairly short walk to the Vysanthean equivalent of a train station. The station itself sat beneath a concave glass roof that curved upward. Coldbloods were rushing in and out, their eyes staring up at blinking boards that showed a number of platforms and destinations. The oddly domestic, banal scene made me laugh. It seemed that, no matter where you went, there were always commuters trying to beat the rush.
We entered, pulling our hoods up around our faces as we went to the ticket machines and pressed what I hoped were the right buttons for two tickets to Palamon. Navan had instructed me on how to do it, since the machine was all symbols I didn’t recognize, but sure enough, two silver discs clattered out. I picked them up and handed one to Angie, and we went in search of our platform. In the end, I had to ask a passing coldblood which one it was, but he answered without a hint of derision, too preoccupied with dashing away to observe the color of my skin, so pink and human beneath the hood of my fur coat.
With barely a minute to spare, we jumped onto the train and sat down, just as it pulled away from the station. Catching our breath, we both sat back, though my eyes trailed toward the window, where the Vysanthean world was flashing past in every shade of gray, white, black, and silver imaginable. Now and again, flashes of dark green blurred by as we passed a patch of woodland, but there was little color to this planet.
A few other passengers dotted the train, though nobody seemed eager to speak to one another. The sight reminded me of the subway in New York City, where it was pretty much a crime to make conversation. I wondered just how similar humans and Vysantheans were, at their very core.
Fifteen minutes later, the train pulled into Palamon station. We got off as quickly as we could, but the doors almost closed on us. Glaring at them for almost taking my hand off, I turned and walked toward the gates, with Angie following after. We waved our silver discs over the flashing beacon and exited into a strangely suburban world.
Everything was quiet, with quaint houses in the near distance, complete with low picket fences and boxed-off gardens that grew what they could in the harsh flowerbeds. Coldbloods walked hand in hand with their coldblood children—a weird sight, in truth, though it was undeniably cute to see them open out their small wings and flap them enthusiastically, only to be pulled down by a stern-faced parent.
Checking the map for Yorrek’s house, Angie gestured to the right. We walked away from the station and headed down a silent main road. We kept going—past shops, a park, a glittering lake—until we reached the edge of a forest. The leaves swayed in the cold breeze, whispering secrets. Ahead, bathed in the shadow of the woodland, was a single house. It looked like a fairytale cottage, with a slate roof and whitewashed walls, and a small garden out front that bore cream-colored roses in a flowerbed protected by glass.
And yet, there was something strange about it.
“Is this his house?” I asked, as Angie checked the map again.
She nodded. “This is the one.”
The windows, rather than being aesthetically pleasing like the rest of the house, were boarded up with thick steel panels. Where a pretty door might have once been, now stood a solid metal shutter, with various panels. Flashing an uncertain look at each other, we pulled our hoods closer to our faces and opened the front gate. I felt for my bandolier of knives, readying my hand to unzip my jacket.
As we walked through the garden, Angie stumbled, her foot sinking into one of the stone slabs that formed the pathway. An alarm shrieked, the sound piercing through the air, splitting my eardrums. Angie looked up, terror in her eyes. A split second later, small openings in the side of the house slid up.
“Get down!” I yelled. Flying missiles shot from the openings. Angie managed to extricate her foot just in time for us to duck and roll out of the way. The missiles were sharp, barbed arrows with blinking tips, one of which whizzed right past my ear, making my heart stop. I lay there, panting on the ground, willing the howling siren to cease so I could get my mind to think clearly.
“Yorrek, turn off your alarms!” Angie bellowed, her voice echoing across the garden. “It’s me from the build site! Turn your alarms off. I want to speak with you. I’ve got an update about the lab!” she continued, her voice loud, even above the alarms.
A moment later, the alarms stopped abruptly, followed by the grate of scraping metal as the shutter of the door rolled up. Relieved, I got up and headed toward it, only to find another shutter behind it, just as solid as the first. Angie stepped up beside me, both of us evidently expecting Yorrek to emerge… but there was no sign of him anywhere.
And then, a bluish image flickered in front of us, the picture solidifying to show an old man with wispy gray hair and a steely black stare. His shoulders were hunched, his features pointed and chinless, giving him the appearance of some sort of vulture.
“Don’t you have anything better to do than come and harass your respected elders?” the hologram barked. “Look at you, dressed up like lesser-furred mangolins. You look ridiculous. Take your hoods down!”
We did as he instructed, though I wasn’t sure how he’d react to two underlings being sent to his door. He made his thoughts known as soon as we revealed our faces.
“Oh, of course they’d send you!” he snapped, looking at Angie. “What, is everyone too busy? They had to send their little slaves to do their dirty work? I suppose you’re going to tell me it’ll be months until my lab is ready. You expect me to wait around here, with all these eyes on me? You want them to get me, don’t you? Yes, that’s it, isn’t it? They’ve sent you to check if I’m still alive? Well, I am, so you can go and tell whoever sent you that they need to try a little harder if they want to get rid of me!” he cried, violently flailing his thin arms around.
“Yorrek, it’s me. It’s Angie, from the building site,” Angie repeated. “Bashrik sent me. You haven’t been around in a few days, and he thought it might be nice if I came and invited you to check on the lab’s progress, in case you felt he’d bee
n too harsh with you last time,” she explained softly, though they were difficult words to believe. I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting this guy around.
“So you think me to be a little child who can’t handle a bit of banter between males?” Yorrek snorted.
Angie sighed. “No, not at all, Yorrek. He just wanted you to come and give your opinion, since you’re going to be working there the most,” she replied, trying a different tactic.
Yorrek shook his head angrily. “Nothing will induce me to go outside, so you can turn around and forget about it!” he muttered. “I’m going to stay in the safety of my house, with every security measure I can get my hands on, and conduct my experiments here until the alchemy lab is complete.”
I frowned. “Why would you want to do that? Isn’t that awfully lonely?”
He scoffed. “It might be a solitary existence, but at least I’ll stay alive!”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“There is someone stalking me, trying to gain intelligence on the immortality elixir. They think I’m not onto them, but I am,” he murmured, his holographic eyes flashing left and right, checking every angle for approaching danger. He had apparently judged us to be safe, given our inferiority. “Now, before I get my missiles out again, I’d like you to get off my porch and scram! You’re drawing attention to me, you idiots!” he snapped, startling us into backing away.
Even so, his hologram didn’t disappear until we had stepped out of the garden. I looked to Angie, seeing my own disappointment reflected on her face. It was clear now that we had no way of capturing Yorrek, even if we had the serum ready. I had my knives, and the others had their strength and skills, but what good were they against a solid metal door and an ultra-high-tech security system? Even with everyone’s forces combined, we’d be dead or brutally injured before we pried Yorrek out of that shell.
Hotbloods 3: Renegades Page 9