The Immortal Crown

by Richelle Mead

  Justin wasn’t sure he could buy it. Or maybe you’re not telling me because the goddess helping her is an ally of Odin’s, and this is all terribly convenient for you guys and part of some set up?

  That would be very convenient, said Horatio. Which ally do you think it is?

  You know which one. Freya. Freya’s a fertility goddess known for her amber necklace. Mae’s being helped by an amber knife sacred to a fertility goddess.

  Amber’s important for half of European religions, Horatio argued.

  Go look it up on the media stream when you’re home—if it’s still there.

  I just can’t shake the feeling I’m being played, Justin said.

  Well, if you are, then it’s not by us. We didn’t send the knife. We don’t even have opposable thumbs.

  That was true. He and Mae had never figured out where that knife had come from, and Justin supposed that would provide the first set of answers. A human servant was needed to use the Gemman postal system. His initial suspect, Callista, denied involvement, and her patron goddess was more about magic and moonlight than amber and fertility. Odin and the ravens had talked about Mae being crowned in flowers since before Justin met her, and it made sense they’d be referring to a fertility goddess in their own pantheon.

  Somehow, despite all the complications tormenting him internally and externally, Justin survived those long two days. On that third morning, his party packed up and made their farewells to Carl’s family. The cloud of Hannah’s disappearance still hung over everyone, but Carl’s initial swagger and pride at hosting important foreigners was still going strong. And really, for those not privy to the dark underside of it all, the trip had been a stunning success. Quiet Phil had managed to work on a favorable trade negotiation, and Lucian had endeared himself to the Arcadian president, who promised to further open lines of communication. Along with touring Divinia, they’d made a number of day trips to other important sites and cities, ultimately accomplishing what no Gemman in history had.

  “Now if we can just make it out alive,” Atticus muttered to Justin, as they boarded the bus that would take them back to the border. Justin was pretty sure the diplomat was going to start drinking heavily once they were back on their native soil, and honestly, Justin couldn’t blame him.

  The Arcadian delegation coming back with them took separate transportation, no doubt to receive their last, covert orders. Lucian and Atticus had been in contact with the Gemman government, gaining permission for the group’s ostensible purpose: Arcadians visiting and sharing their culture. Lucian hadn’t dared communicate any hint of knowledge of the conspiracy while in Arcadia, but he’d assured Justin that once they were safely within the RUNA’s borders, they’d make sure the hackers were set up and discovered quickly.

  “We don’t want them sitting around, gathering more data,” Lucian had said. “We’ll act like we’re going along with the cultural exchange and conveniently set them up in locations most accessible to the media stream’s way stations. Once they take the bait, and we get your defector friends to testify about the plan, this’ll be a done deal.” Lucian had then paused to give Justin a long, level look. “And they really are your friends. That Hansen guy adores you. How’d you pull that off?”

  “He just wants to live the Gemman dream, that’s all,” Justin had replied glibly.

  The Gemman dream and worship of Odin. When Justin’s bus reached the base on the Arcadian side of the Mississippi, they found Hansen’s party of men and women were already there. Hansen approached Justin with a formal greeting and then, once others were away, murmured, “I expect things are going to be a little . . . hectic when it all comes out. But I hope once matters calm, and Elaina and the others and I have settled down, we’ll be able to meet with you regularly to learn about him.”

  “I look forward to it,” Justin replied, feeling a sinking sensation in his stomach.

  The Arcadian soldiers searched the luggage of everyone, Arcadian and Gemman alike, and performed more pat downs to ensure nothing was being transported illegally. None of the soldiers suspected a woman might be smuggled out, and none of them dared ask an Cloistered woman to uncover herself. The Gemmans and the Arcadian delegation were given permission to leave and ushered onto a boat that would take them to the other side of the river. As the shore drew closer, Justin could see the familiar gray-and-maroon of the regular Gemman military waiting for them, along with a welcome sight: the RUNA’s flag.

  He experienced a strange emotional surge at the sight of it, the maroon and dark purple field adorned with a golden circle of laurel leaves, that reminded him of his return from Panama. The RUNA’s motto echoed in his mind, Gemma mundi, and he wondered if Hannah had any idea of the extraordinary opportunity those words and that flag offered her. Did she realize that her world was about to open up? Sitting quietly beside him, unreadable in her thick clothing, Justin couldn’t guess at her feelings. Probably she was terrified at being caught, which perhaps wasn’t that unreasonable a fear since they hadn’t crossed the Gemman border yet.

  Having her here reminded him of Mae who should have been here beside him instead. Where was she? Surely they would’ve heard if something had happened to her. The not-knowing was maddening, and Justin kept thinking back to their last meeting, to the kiss he still couldn’t understand and how he’d promised her he’d help with her niece. Was there something he could have done differently? If he’d helped her sooner, could they have avoided her disappearing with those girls?

  I’m going to give you some relationship advice, said Horatio, interrupting the endless questions.

  I don’t have a relationship, Justin replied promptly.

  Shut up, and listen anyway, ordered the raven. You and she work well together, no surprise since you’re meant for each other—and I don’t just mean in the romantic way you keep botching up. You’re a team, a good one. You watch out for each other, and that’s good. But that doesn’t mean you’re meant to do every single little thing together. Yes, you have a shared destiny, but you also have an individual one, and so does she. The reason you didn’t think of anything sooner to help her is because that wasn’t your task. That was hers, and she found something and acted. Your task was to uncover the Grand Disciple’s conspiracy and bring these people to Odin. Be content with the knowledge that you’re both fulfilling the duties you’re supposed to.

  It’s hard to feel content when mostly I’m worried I’ll never see her again, said Justin. I don’t know how I could get by without her.

  Well, then, said Horatio, maybe you should tell her that the next time you see her.

  The boat docked at the Gemman base, and a group of Arcadian soldiers waited to make sure both Gemman and Arcadian diplomats crossed over safely. There was no press here—they’d face that in Vancouver—but there were enough Gemman soldiers watching to make Justin feel like he was already being broadcast on the stream. It made him uneasy, especially knowing anything could still go wrong, but the spotlight was Lucian’s natural habit. He thrived on it and made a pretty speech to the Arcadian soldiers at the boat, thanking them for their service and hospitality. He then strode forward to an officer waiting with a chip scanner, making a point to be the first of them to officially return home.

  Justin was close behind him and watched as Lucian rested his hand on the scanner. It was a formality for Gemmans, so common that they did it without conscious thought most of the time. And, Justin realized with a pang, it might be Hannah’s undoing.

  The officer—a captain, from his uniform—glanced at whatever information popped up on the small screen facing him and gave a small nod. “Welcome home, senator.”

  “Glad to be back,” boomed Lucian in his show voice. “Though I am disappointed I missed the Hamaki Cup finals. Tell me the Comets won, and you’ll make me a happy man.”

  The man’s stiff face broke into a smile. “They did, sir. 3-2. Great game.”

  Lucian whooped with joy and shook the man’s hand, much to the delight of the watching
soldiers. “See? You’ve already got this homecoming off to a great start. I love this country.” Still shaking the captain’s hand, Lucian leaned close and dropped his voice so that Justin could barely make his words out. “And keep smiling because you’re also going to help save this country. There’s a woman who’ll be coming through who won’t have a chip, and you will give no sign of this when you scan her. You’ll wave her through, without breaking rank, and I swear to you as senator and soon to be consul that your career will benefit greatly for doing this.” Lucian’s smile increased as he clapped the soldier on the back and said in a louder voice, “I hope we can get a recording of the game on the plane—and you better not have been playing me.”

  The captain’s smile had faded, and he looked understandably bewildered. He scanned and sent Justin through without a word, then did the same for all the other men. The Gemman women came next, still grouped in gender order from Arcadia. Justin watched beside Lucian, who was still beaming like a king surveying his kingdom, but both of them were tense under their happy masks. If the soldier called out anything irregular about Hannah while the Arcadian soldiers were still watching, things might still end very badly.

  The women came through one at a time, and Justin saw Val lean forward and murmur something to Hannah, likely instructing her how to play along with the scanning. Val probably thought Lucian had managed some pre-arrangement long before this, not knowing he’d had to do it on the fly. Like the hackers, Lucian hadn’t been able to send word of Mae’s mission into the RUNA while they were still in Arcadia.

  Hannah’s turn came, and Justin found himself holding his breath. He hoped no one noticed how pale the captain looked. The poor guy was a soldier, one used to following regular orders, not impromptu ones that came down from unverified sources. But his faith in Lucian must’ve been strong because he nodded at the screen as though normal chip information had popped up. He welcomed Hannah home and greeted the next woman in line. Justin exhaled and resisted the urge to sink to the ground in relief.

  The entering Arcadians had a different process, a much lengthier one involving visas and paperwork to match their identities, which had been sent in advance by Atticus. Once they were in, the Arcadian soldiers finally left, getting back on their boat and sailing for the other shore.

  “I can’t believe it,” Justin muttered, falling in step with Lucian as an aide led them all to the plane that would deliver everyone to Vancouver. “We made it. We’re here.”

  When he and Lucian started to board the plane, a voice behind them calling Lucian’s name gave them pause. Justin turned and saw the captain who’d scanned everyone waving his hand and hurrying forward. Lucian smiled at the Gemman and Arcadian delegates and stepped aside from the stairs going into the jet.

  “You all go ahead,” he said grandly. “And cross your fingers that score wasn’t wrong.”

  He walked across the tarmac to meet the captain, and Justin followed, his earlier tension returning. What was going to go wrong now?

  “Sir,” said the captain breathlessly. “I did what you asked. I—”

  ”Yes, yes,” said Lucian, clapping the other man on the back. “You did, and believe me, you’ll be rewarded. I know it was an irregular thing to ask, letting her through, but trust me when I say you’ve played a role in one of the biggest events of our time. I’ll be in touch with your superiors as soon as I’m in Vancouver, and all of this will be cleared up.”

  The captain nodded. “Yes, sir. I believe you. I don’t know who that woman is, but if you say she needs to be here, then I believe you and trust what you’re doing. The thing is, sir, I know who she’s not.” He lifted up a small tablet that appeared to be full of names. “Everyone’s been accounted for in your original party and in the visiting Arcadians. With one exception. Senator . . .” The man looked nervous and then hardened his resolve. “If you can’t tell me, then so be it, but I still have to ask: where is Praetorian Mae Koskinen?”

  Lucian exchanged a pained glance with Justin, and here, away from all the other eyes, Lucian was no longer the swaggering leader-to- be. Mostly, he looked beaten down from all the lies he’d become enmeshed in.

  “Captain,” he said wearily. “I wish I knew.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Tessa Defines the Truth

  Tessa deliberated for a long time on what to do. In the days following her meeting with Danique, she best coped by putting off meeting with Daphne. Tessa went about her normal life, returning to a somewhat regular schedule at school and spending time with the Marches and Darius after class. She also still entertained contact with the YCC and promised to attend future meetings, just in case that turned out to be a connection she wanted to further.

  Tessa was finally able to make her decision the day she found out Justin was back in the country. Cynthia told her moments before the news channels all broke the story, and Tessa soon discovered she also had a message from him. Based on the time, he must’ve sent it pretty soon after crossing the Gemman border. There wasn’t much to it, but something about the gesture moved Tessa: Back in civilization. I’ll never make a joke about Panama again. See you soon, sweetie.

  He hadn’t had to send her anything. Even if his and the others’ arrival wasn’t a public spectacle, he’d know that Cynthia would pass along whatever he sent to her. Yet, he’d still written to Tessa personally, and she knew why. To him, she was family, and this showed it in a way that all the student visas and fancy schools never could have. The indecision that had been knotting inside Tessa eased, and she finally knew what to do about the volatile information she’d learned that night. Resolved, she called Leo who looked surprised—and a little wary—to hear from her when his face appeared.

  “You aren’t coming to see me with another reporter, are you?” he asked.

  “Nope. I need to know if you know anything about a . . .” Tessa paused to lift up the tiny microphone she’d worn recently. “. . . a model RXM73200-XS microphone.”

  “Not specifically,” he said. “But I know a little about them and their type. What do you need?”

  “I need to know how to erase what’s on it—in a way that won’t actually show I erased it. And so that the data can’t be recovered.”

  Leo raised an eyebrow at that. “You aren’t in some kind of trouble, are you?”

  “No . . . I’m just having ethical qualms about some stuff I’ve recorded for Daphne.” It actually wasn’t that far from the truth and also appealed to Leo’s paranoid nature.

  “Well,” he said, “lucky for you, you can do it at home. Go find Cynthia’s radiant warmer.”

  “Her what?”

  “You use it to keep food warm at parties. I guarantee someone like her owns one. It uses a kind of low-level radiation that’ll wipe that microphone’s storage unit clean, if you get it close enough.”

  He explained it in further detail, and when Tessa ended the call, she found that he was right and Cynthia did indeed own such a device. Tessa followed the directions he’d given and then tried to transfer the microphone’s data to her ego, as she and Daphne had done in the past. Nothing happened. Satisfied, Tessa then made another call.

  Daphne arrived an hour later, in high heels and red lipstick, giving her usual eye roll when Rufus checked her for her own surveillance. “It’s about time,” she told Tessa, once he’d finished and went off to another part of the house. “Where have you been these last couple days?”

  “Busy,” said Tessa, sitting down at the kitchen table. “With schoolwork and stuff.”

  “I’m your schoolwork,” snapped Daphne. “Now tell me what happened at your last meeting.”

  Tessa took deep breath. “A lot lately. I may have met with some sort of religious leader—some priestess or something—that has ties to Dr. Cassidy and, by extension, the Citizens Party.”

  If Daphne’s eyes had gotten any wider, they might have been in danger of popping out. “You did what?”

  Tessa launched forward with a retelling of the story, edited of cour
se. Many important parts remained, like how she’d convinced Dr. Cassidy she was having dreams about his religion and how he’d referred her on to Danique.

  “Danique didn’t outright say anything too incriminating or admit to her full involvement, but the guy who was with her just before I got there called her Damaris. I did a search on those two names and found a reference to a Damaris Chu, who goes by the alias Danique, who’s been investigated by SCI a few times for religious suspicions but was never found guilty of anything. Of course, the exact details from the servitor’s office weren’t public record, so it’s hard to know what exactly they looked into her for, but I’m sure we can—”

  “I’ll be the judge of all this,” said Daphne, who was practically salivating. “Where’s the mic? Let me hear this myself.”

  Tessa shifted uncomfortably. “Well, that’s the problem. I went to upload it, and I got an error. There’s nothing recorded. It’s like the microphone wasn’t working that night.”

  The idea was so ludicrous, it was clear Daphne couldn’t take it seriously enough to panic. “Of course it was working! We’d just tested it. It was on when you left me. Even if you turned it off—you didn’t, did you?—there’d be something there.”

  Without another word, Tessa handed over the microphone and watched as Daphne repeated the attempt to pull its data. Her condescension turned to disbelief and then to outrage. “This is impossible! We tested it. I’ll take this back and see if one of the tech guys can do anything. Shit.” Daphne slouched back in the chair, arms crossed in anger. “It figures. We finally get something, and this happens! Tell me again what you heard. Everything.”

  Tessa complied, again leaving out the same key parts—like how along with looking up Damaris Chu, she’d found a similar report about Demetrius Devereaux on the stream, one that linked him to unspecified religious investigations that had never been conclusive. Daphne couldn’t know about him. Tessa had realized the reporter was thorough enough to do a similar search and draw the conclusion that he too was tied into some underground religion—and that by Geraki’s words, Justin had some involvement that didn’t sound like normal servitor behavior. Tessa didn’t know if it was innocent. She knew Justin had met with Geraki a number of times over the last few months, but she’d always assumed it was SCI business. It might very well still be—or it might not. Geraki had made a comment about Justin “believing,” and although that was impossible for Tessa to imagine, she couldn’t take the chance of that insinuation falling into the hands of someone like Daphne. Tessa would protect Justin, as he had protected her so many times, by erasing the recording. If there’d been a way to just pull out the parts that incriminated him, Tessa would’ve done that, but some tech person at North Prime might have uncovered that there’d been an alteration.