by Queen, Nyna
Oh yes, the guardaí would fall all over themselves to believe them. They probably wouldn’t even let them finish their explanation before they were thrown in front of a judge’s bench. And with everybody howling for blood at the moment, Alex would make a convenient fall guy, the shaper who crashed the Summerball in the very year a member of the elite was killed. It simply fit the mold too well.
They couldn’t just make Debayne’s body vanish either and hope to settle things that way. Even though Darken insisted he could dig a discreet grave that nobody would ever find, Debanye’s absence would be noticed sooner or later. Maybe not tonight or tomorrow, but someone would eventually realize he was missing. And then? Lord Debayne had said he hadn’t told anybody he’d gone to visit Stephane, but how could they be sure? And even if it were true, somebody could have seen him on his way, or the coach driver might remember his face when it was plastered all over the news under the heading, ‘Have you seen this man?’.
Alex squeezed her shins.
It was a complete nightmare. They had hoped to finally get some answers, but instead they had gotten more death on their hands. It felt as if everything was slipping out of their grasp, and they hadn’t been holding on to much in the first place.
Alex dropped her head back against the armchair’s headrest and glared at the ceiling. Another murder investigation was just what they needed, especially one in which they were the main suspects. Sweet Jester, they were so screwed! If only she’d been inside the wine cellar instead of in the hallway. Maybe she would have been able to move fast enough to stop Debayne before he swallowed his poison pill.
Yeah, shoulda, coulda, woulda… Well, hindsight’s always twenty-twenty.
A flash of lightning ripped through the lead-colored clouds, illuminating the park outside for a split second before giving way to an even deeper darkness than before. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
Alex pressed her eyes shut, the forked outline of the lightning etched against the backs of her eyelids.
Debayne’s last words were running through her mind in a continuous loop, like puzzle pieces rattling inside a box. It was all there, she was sure of it. All she had to do was connect them the right way, and everything would finally make sense.
For the zillionth time, Alex ticked off on her mental fingers what they knew: Ferhus being murdered in the Royal Palace. Ferhus buying shares in the GemRock Consortium years ago while at the same time donating a shitload of money to the Maria Carvalis Prison Camp. An allegedly inoperative prison camp that hadn’t been inoperative at all.
Alex shuddered. The mere memory of the place gave her the creeps. Something dark and evil had taken place there. She could still feel its foulness on her skin like some cold, slimy patina that even the shower she’d taken hadn’t been able to completely wash off. She remembered the feeling of dead eyes watching them from the darkness, the silence heavy with accusation and despair as if the walls themselves had been wailing with thousands of unheard cries.
Misery and pain weren’t unheard of in a prison camp, especially one that operated a mine. Except the gem mine had been closed down and barred a long time ago. And yet the place had been running only a couple of days ago.
Gah! What was she missing?
No officially convicted criminals could have been sent there. No. Shapers. That’s what Debayne had said. They had sent shapers there. But why shapers? This had to be crucial.
Why would they bring shapers to an inoperative prison camp? Sure, shapers were tough labor force, but—as she’d already established—the mine hadn’t been operating. So, they hadn’t been sent there to work. Then what had they been doing?
Alex pictured the claw marks on the walls, the chains, the blood drains in the floor, and swallowed hard. The shapers had been tortured at that place, that much was for sure. But why? Why. Why. Why.
Alex was so frustrated she could scream. Just why did everything have to be so muddled? She felt as if her thoughts were running in circles like a mouse in a wheel, racing but getting her nowhere.
Money. Shapers. Pain.
And the GemRock Consortium making big profit with its jewelry business and lining the pockets of its shareholders.
Jewelry. Pain. Money. Shapers.
Shapers. Pain. Jewelry. Money.
Alex groaned and pressed her forehead against her knees, wishing it would provide some relief from her splitting headache.
Another bolt of lightning tore the sky right in front of the window, cracking like a jagged whip of energy, followed by a clap of thunder that shook the house. Alex jumped in her chair. Sweet Jester!
The storm had to be right above them.
A gust of wind pushed a heavy spray of rain against the window pane. Alex pulled her legs tighter to herself and watched the drops slide down the glass. In the gloom, they reminded her of tears. An ocean of tears. Almost as though the sky were crying for their misery.
She fixed her eyes on one of the drops and followed it with her gaze as it made its way down, down, down, catching another one on its way, then another and another.
Bathed in the golden lights of the living room, they sparkled like little diamonds and—
DIAMONDS!
Shit!
Alex leaped out of her chair so quickly that it crashed to the floor.
Darken froze mid-movement and spun around, eyes flaring like two crimson flames, ready to throw himself at the non-existent attacker.
Alex’s heart was thundering in her chest, pounding in her ears and temples. Her entire body was hot and cold at the same time. The most horrible idea had crossed her mind. But … no! That couldn’t be. It just couldn’t.
She realized everybody in the room was staring at her, waiting for an explanation. Her mouth was suddenly dry as cotton. She opened and closed it.
“I think I might … but that’s … just give me a sec.”
Ignoring their startled faces, she sprinted out of the room and up the stairs, past the bedrooms in one of which Stephane and Edalyne were still arguing at the top of their voices.
She reached her own bedroom, ripped open the door, skidded across the parquet and crashed to her knees in front of the dresser, bruising her skin but barely feeling it.
She yanked open a drawer and frantically flipped through the contents.
Nope.
She opened the next and the next, dumping their contents on the floor in a shower of silk panties, socks, hairbands, and other knickknacks, groping about them for what she was looking for.
She couldn’t be right. There was just no way in hell she could be right.
Please let me be wrong!
She emptied another drawer and cursed.
Oh, come on! Just where had she put it?
When she ripped open the next drawer, her fumbling fingers found a small paper envelope. Alex extracted it and rocked back on her heels. With trembling hands, she tore it open and shook the content onto her palm.
She stared at the thumbnail-sized, perfectly tear-shaped crystal resting on her palm. Her chest went tight.
Holding the jewel chip between thumb and forefinger, she rose to her feet and held it up into the light, the facets winking at her innocently. Nothing but a pretty little gem, but…
Alex closed her hand around it and raced back down, taking several steps at once and almost running over a startled Hector.
Darken was at her side the moment she flew through the living room door, catching her and steadying her before she did a nosedive on the slippery white marble.
His hands were burning hot on her shock-chilled skin. It felt so good that she wanted to lean into him, letting his warmth envelop her.
No time.
Catching her breath, Alex took a step back and showed him the crystal. The light sparkled of its clear facets, projecting a rainbow-colored diamond pattern onto the wall.
Darken frowned. “What’s that?”
“It’s the crystal I got from Roukewood. At the Summerball. With the invitation he sent me. Remembe
r I showed it to you after the ball?”
Darken scowled at the crystal with distinct loathing. “You kept that stupid stone?”
Alex shot him a look. “This is hardly the right moment for a jealousy fit.” Yet her heart did a little dance of joy inside her chest. He was jealous—of Roukewood of all people! Foolish man! As if she could ever feel drawn to that slimy bastard.
“Why did you fetch it?” Josy asked. She had trotted over, Max in tow, and was surveying the little gem with a confused expression.
Alex opened her mouth and hesitated. Now that she was about to voice her theory, it suddenly felt completely stupid. This was crazy. She was crazy to even contemplate this. The whole idea was so mad.
She bit her lip.
But if there was just the slightest chance that her suspicion could be true, they had to know.
Alex took a deep breath. “Is there any way to verify what this is?”
And please, Great Mother, let me be wrong!
THE bell chimed.
Darken opened the front door of Helton Manor on the first ring to find a very wet and very disgruntled Bartholomeus Farlow on the other side.
The kid pointed an accusing finger at Darken. “This had better be a real emergency, Forfeit!” He pushed his big, dripping, horn-rimmed glasses back up his nose. “Calling me out of bed and into this downpour! It’s raining cats and dogs out there if you hadn’t noticed. And since when do I do house calls, anyway?”
Darken slipped backwards and beckoned him in with a carefully neutral expression.
“I’m sure you won’t regret it. Did you bring what I asked you to?”
Barthi shot him a what-do-you-take-me-for look but still lifted the square leather case he was carrying in his left hand.
“Although, frankly, I have no clue why you asked me to bring all this. You’ve approached me with many uncommon requests these past few years, but you never needed my mineralogy knowledge before.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
“Suppose there is,” Barthi said sourly.
Although Darken himself wasn’t quite sure why exactly he had hauled the young scientist out of bed and from the Pacified Zone to the Dubois country house in this weather.
After bolting out of the parlor like a crazed fury and returning with the crystal—Roukewood’s crystal!—Alex had been rather reluctant to share her thoughts about it with them. She called it a vague theory, probably nothing but folly, even tried to joke about it, but Darken could read her well enough by now to see that it was a front. He had no idea what she expected Barthi to find, but whatever it was, it was terrifying her. Only few things terrified the spider, and that was enough to alarm him. So instead of wasting time arguing, Darken simply had procured the coach and driven himself, Alex, Stephane and a handful of his brother’s most trusted guards hard through the storm to the family’s country mansion while calling a none too pleased Bartholomeus.
Despite his grumbling, Darken had counted on the kid’s curiosity to get the better of him, and he wasn’t disappointed.
Barthi stepped forward and shook himself like a wet dog, splashing droplets of water from his sandy hair all over the parquet floor.
“Great Mother, it hasn’t rained like this since the Great Flood of Ureal Peak!”
He shrugged out of his sodden coat.
Darken took it in exchange for a towel and the young man rubbed his hair and then rather unsuccessfully tried to dry his glasses on one of the corners.
Since the family hadn’t planned on visiting Helton Manor this week, most servants had gotten some time off, and the rest was at the townhouse in Ciradell. It was one of the reasons why they had chosen to hold this meeting here. Plus, for Barthi, it was only a stone’s throw away.
When Barthi was finally dry enough to stop complaining, Darken led him into the small parlor, the room where a couple of weeks ago, Alex had met his brother for the first time. The lights in here were warm and golden against the oppressive, rain-soaked darkness outside. That was about the only cheerful thing in the room.
Stephane hunkered in one of the chairs, visibly brimming with impatience, and Barthi ended up at the receiving end of his slashing gold-green stare. The kid flinched.
Well, patience had never been his brother’s strong suit.
Behind him, Alex leaned against a windowsill, long legs crossed at her ankles.
When Barthi’s gaze moved on to her, he blinked several times.
A wave of heated possessiveness washed over Darken, teasing the lethal darkness in his veins. His magic rippled underneath his skin in a soft, subtle question. Darken locked his jaw and forced it back into its iron restraints. He hadn’t been able to truly hold Alex since they had parted at the foot of Duncan’s Teeth—only secret little touches and stolen glances—and he wanted to wrap her in his arms and declare to the whole world that she was his, daring it to put up a challenge. Things being as they were, he had to settle for the promise that he would hold her later that night.
Barthi cleared his throat several times and performed an awkward bow.
“Milady. Milord.”
He put his leather case on the table, turned around and fiddled with his hands, clearly not sure what to do with himself.
“So—hem—what is it exactly that you want from me?”
Darken nodded at Alex.
She untangled her legs and pushed herself off the sill, striding over to Barthi. In front of him, she held up the thumbnail-sized crystal at his eye level.
“Can you tell us what this is?”
The look on Barthi’s face couldn’t have been any more baffled. He glared at Darken and said in a loud, incredulous whisper, “You called me through this deluge to do a purity check on a piece of jewelry?”
It wasn’t quite clear which bugged him more, the fact that he had gotten soaked or that his services were engaged for such a mere frivolity.
Darken’s expression remained pleasant, but his deep voice held a dangerous softness. “Humor the lady, will you?”
Barthi didn’t miss the slight change in intonation. He swallowed, then shrugged.
“Oh, well. Since I’m here anyway.”
He frowned at the crystal, shook his head, and plucked it from Alex’s fingers.
“Should be easy enough,” he muttered as he turned back to the table, clearly offended that he hadn’t been presented with a more daunting task.
The kid opened his leather case. Twenty by fourteen by ten inches, the case was covered in dark velvet tissue and contained several compartments that folded out in all directions like steps, holding an assortment of all kinds of different ingredients such as test tubes with liquids, tweezers, pipettes, gauges, needles, miniature drills, test strips, lenses and other obscure instruments. A true scientist’s game box.
Barthi slipped on a pair of surgical gloves, took off his glasses, and strapped a magnifying lens in a leather socket to his right eye, enlarging it to a ridiculous size, which made him look like a strange, lopsided bug.
The kid carefully wiped the crystal on a piece of soft, beige leather cloth, took a pair of pincers and held it aloft, bringing it close to his magnified eye.
“Color, clear. No visible inclusions,” he mumbled to himself, making quick scribbles on a pad while turning the stone this way and that. “At first glance, very high transparency, I’d even say flawless and … wow, that’s an extremely perfect cubic structure right there, quite exceptional … white streak, no residue … hm.”
Using several different tools, he prodded the crystal’s surface. “Extremely hard, too.”
After a couple of minutes, Barthi pulled off the lens and put his glasses back in place. He turned to Alex.
“Whoever gifted you with this, milady, must be very fond of you. The first visual and structural analysis suggests this to be a diamond. The real deal. And a rather high-carat one at that.”
“Are you sure?” Alex asked. Darken didn’t think the rushed eagerness in her voice had anything t
o do with the possibility of having been gifted with a real diamond.
Barthi sniffed. “This is a preliminary analysis, lady. So, no, right now I’m merely making an educated guess. But that should be easy to verify.” He turned back to his set. “Just let me do another couple of quick spectral tests.”
Darken frowned. Sure, Roukewood was a rich bastard, and he’d undoubtedly been intrigued by Alex, but gifting her with a real diamond per letter? That seemed a bit much.
Alex, on the other hand, appeared nearly relieved. The tension in her shoulders had eased a little, but worry was still etched into her sharp features, turning them fierce and hauntingly beautiful.
He returned his focus to Barthi, who had procured a small box of transparent material with two mirror-plates on both sides, which he filled with a pinkish liquid. He dropped the jewel into the liquid and when it hit the ground, magic ignited in a blue laser beam that slowly pierced the liquid from top to bottom and back up, scanning it. A tiny holographic printer which Barthi had plugged into a complicated network of glassy looking cables leading to the box rattled and spit out print on small sheets of crystalline paper.
“Curious,” Barthi muttered as he studied the scan results on the paper. His frown deepened the farther he read. Suddenly his eyes opened wide. “What in the name of hell—?”
The trickle of magic died away and the kid swiveled around to them, looking completely stricken. A steep line almost cut his forehead in two.
“Whatever this is, it’s not in any of my mineral databases,” he said incredulously. “It’s like no mineral I’ve ever encountered before. In fact, I’m not even sure it is a mineral. It has some sort of organic component to it, something I’d say almost fossil-like that—” He clamped his mouth shut as he realized how that must sound and fixed Darken with a reproachful gaze. “What kind of game are you playing, Forfeit?”
“I’m not playing games,” Darken said quietly. “We really want to know what this is.”