The Immortal Crown

by Richelle Mead

  “I’ll go on record with any of this,” Tessa told Daphne. “Whatever you need me to swear to—I mean, so long as it was something that happened.”

  Daphne grimaced. “I’d rather you didn’t. I’d rather we had the recording, but if this doesn’t pan out, then a teenage testimony will have to do. Not nearly as credible.”

  “Well, then,” said Tessa, feeling pleased to succeed in her ruse and to see that Daphne was actually pursuing facts instead of speculation, “I’ll keep going with everything else—the YCC and all that. Maybe it’ll give us leads. And it will look good for citizenship—if I decided to go after it.”

  “Of course you will,” said Daphne dismissively. She stood up, microphone clutched in her hand. “I’ll take this to the guys downtown and see what we can salvage.” She glanced around, noting the mostly empty house. “I heard the news today. Call me when your guy gets back. Especially call me if he brings Lucian Darling around so I can finally get an interview. I was annoyed at first when he left the country, but the delay might have been for the best, in light of all this other stuff that’s been uncovered. This internship panned out . . . just not how I expected.”

  “Delay . . .” Tessa frowned as she processed Daphne’s words. “Delay in getting an interview with Lucian? Were you expecting one?” Daphne had hinted as much before.

  Daphne grinned. “Of course. What’s the point of having a well- connected intern if I can’t make use of it?”

  Tessa followed her to the door, trying to piece meaning together with the timeline she knew. Something didn’t feel right, but she couldn’t put her finger on it yet. “You didn’t know I was connected— that Justin was connected—to Lucian until the Arcadian trip was announced.” There it was. Tessa put it together. “No, you did. Didn’t you? You knew all about me before you approached me at school. You knew all about my family and Justin being friends with Lucian.”

  “So? What if I did? I wouldn’t be much of a reporter if I didn’t research the person I was approaching for a once in a lifetime internship, now would I?”

  “But you said . . . what about all that stuff about wanting to see a girl like me rise above my background?” exclaimed Tessa.

  “That’s true too,” said Daphne, who was clearly having trouble understanding why Tessa was so upset. “There are lots of pieces to this.”

  “But Lucian’s the biggest one, isn’t he? Did you even want an intern? Or were you just looking for a connection to him?”

  Daphne turned and leaned against the front door. “Look, I’ve been chasing this lead with Darling, Cassidy, and the whole idea of religious involvement in the CP for months without getting anywhere. Someone like me couldn’t get an interview with either of them—at least not through normal channels. So, I started looking into abnormal ones. Any connection—or one-off connection—that might get me an in to talk to the senator. I went with his friends, his friends’ friends, his friends’ family . . . and then through a stroke of luck, I found his friend’s ward needed a mentor in journalism. It was a long shot, but it was the best opportunity I’d had in a while. So I went with it.” Daphne sighed in frustration when she saw Tessa was still upset. “If it makes you feel better, you actually have been a million times more useful than I ever expected. When I found out Lucian was leaving, I thought my chances of talking to him were leaving too. But this work we’ve done . . . well, it’s been kind of amazing. You’ve got a real knack for this stuff, kid.”

  “Not anymore,” said Tessa, surprised to feel herself on the verge of tears. “I’m done with all of it! I’m especially done with you. I’m not going to be a part of any more games.”

  “Uncovering religious motivations in one of the country’s political party’s isn’t a game,” insisted Daphne. “And you backing out of that just because your feelings are hurt is childish. What does it matter if my intentions with you changed, when we’ve gotten so close to uncovering the truth?”

  “Because the intentions and methods you use matter,” said Tessa calmly. “I got so caught up, I lost sight of that. And now you’re nowhere near uncovering the truth because you’ve got a dead microphone, and I’m not going to go on the record about what I saw.”

  Daphne’s smugness vanished. “Tessa! You can’t do that. If they can’t recover this microphone—”

  “Then I guess you’re out of luck.” Tessa turned and raised her voice. “Rufus?” The stocky bodyguard appeared within moments.

  “Daphne and I are done for the day. Please make sure she gets out okay.”

  Rufus looked as though he wanted nothing more in the world to do than just that and swiftly opened the door, giving Daphne a pointed look. “Tessa—” she tried again, but Tessa wasn’t paying attention anymore.

  She walked away, leaving it for Rufus to sort out. All the while, Tessa’s heart threatened to beat out of her chest. Had she ended things soon enough? Was it possible Leo was wrong, and the microphone might be salvageable? No, Tessa felt confident in his advice, if nothing else. He wouldn’t have given her a household remedy if it wasn’t foolproof. The question now was if Daphne could do any damage based simply on what Tessa had told her. When Tessa had invited Daphne over, selling out Lucian hadn’t seemed like such a big deal. Tessa liked him well enough, but she had no real personal stake in his career, and the people did have a right to know who they were electing. But now, knowing the full extent of Daphne’s machinations, Tessa realized the reporter likely wouldn’t have stopped there. Tessa could only hope that in refusing to help anymore, she’d protected Justin and his secrets.

  Of course, that still meant Tessa herself had to reconcile the idea of Justin—who spoke out against religion both professionally and personally—being involved with it at a very deep and covert level. And yet . . . did it really change anything between them? Tessa herself clung to loose religious ideas, and he’d always said hers were harmless and she shouldn’t feel bad about holding onto them. If Justin wanted his own, she could accept that.

  But as the day progressed and she waited for news of his return, one question continued to burn in her mind: if Justin wasn’t sharing his beliefs with her and the rest of the family, did that mean they weren’t so harmless?

  CHAPTER 24

  Longer Days

  Once, on a campaign in an Asian province, Mae and some other praetorians had trekked across country for almost a week. They’d subsisted on barebones army rations, and without the need for sleep, they’d marched practically day and night. It had been one of the most taxing missions of Mae’s life, but as she began her third day of leading eleven girls and one woman through the Arcadian wilds, she was starting to look back on that Asian trip with new fondness and respect.

  Mae knew it was wrong to hold the girls responsible for their group’s slow progress. Ordinary soldiers couldn’t have matched her pace, let alone civilian adults. To expect a group of sheltered children to keep up with a praetorian was ludicrous. Mae told herself that constantly, but the experience still proved challenging. And it wasn’t just because the girls were slower and weaker. Mae’s protective nature made her sympathetic to that. She wanted to help them because no one else ever had, and she was glad to do it. Her frustration mostly came from a sense of urgency and pressing danger. Even though the route they were taking bypassed most populated areas, they still always ran the risk of being spotted and reported. The Arcadian authorities could easily send ground troops and helicopters in, and all of Mae’s covert work would be for nothing. Would the authorities go to such extremes for a group of runaway girls? Possibly, especially since there’d been murder tied to their disappearance. Would the authorities go to such extremes for a soldier from an enemy country? Almost certainly.

  And that was the question that ate at Mae during those long hours of traipsing across fields, of keeping watch while the girls slept. Today was the day the Gemmans would’ve returned home. Had they? Had Hannah gone undetected these last couple of days, and if so, had Justin gotten her into the RUNA? There was n
o reason for anyone to suspect Mae was responsible for the salon raid and therefore no reason for anyone to suspect Hannah had assumed her identity. The whole purpose of a Cloistered woman was to keep her out of sight. No one should have any reason to investigate her.

  Guilt and worry still plagued Mae. She felt as though she’d abandoned her friends. She felt as though she’d abandoned Justin especially, not to mention sticking him with a lot of problems to patch up. If anyone was clever enough to fix the mess she’d left behind, it was him. She just wished she’d been able to give him more warning, particularly since he had his own mess with the Grand Disciple’s conspiracy.

  He’ll take care of it all, she thought firmly. And hopefully afterward, he’ll forgive me.

  He was on her mind a lot, and some of her musings about him were deeply personal, far removed from these political snares. She wished she’d been able to express her feelings more clearly to him before they parted and vowed to try when they saw each other again. That quiet promise drove her even harder, as did the constant knowledge that if she failed in this task, she’d not only end up in potentially lethal trouble herself but also implicate her country in hostile actions against Arcadia.

  “Miss Mae?” Monica hurried up to her side as they walked through a barren field that looked like it had once grown corn. “Holly and Maria say they need a bathroom break.”

  “Again?” exclaimed Mae. “We just stopped an hour ago.” Monica shrugged helplessly. “That’s what they say.”

  Monica, Cecile, and a couple other girls had taken to Mae relatively quickly, appointing themselves her unofficial assistants. Interestingly, it was the girls in the middle ages, around ten or so, who were most eager to help her. Monica was the only older girl intrigued by what Mae offered. The others, having been programmed for too many years, were still too put off by Mae’s strangeness. The younger girls, including Ava, were a mix. Some were fascinated, some too cowed to stray from what they’d been taught. They all were used to responding to authority, however, which was what kept them going on this endeavor.

  “Well, then,” said Mae. “They’re going to have to—” Her sharp ears picked up the faintest of buzzing sounds, and her implant surged to life. “Airplane! All of you—run to those trees, now!”

  Several of the girls immediately complied, heading for the field’s edge at a hard pace. Some of the younger girls tried but couldn’t move that fast. Mae scooped up two of the smallest ones and took them most of the way, depositing them a close distance to the trees before heading back for other stragglers. One person, however, was making no attempt at hurrying her pace. Dawn, Pittsfield’s long suffering servant, strolled along as though she were walking casually through a park. Mae picked up a struggling Ava and then jogged over to Dawn after first ascertaining that the airplane—which was growing louder—wasn’t in sight yet.

  “Move!” Mae yelled. “Run!”

  Dawn regarded Mae with blank eyes. In the last couple of days, Dawn had tried to run away twice and had generally been difficult to manage. At first, Mae had thought she was mentally handicapped, but it was becoming clear that Dawn simply wanted a return to her old life. She was too shaped and beaten down by her world to embrace what Mae was offering, and running away from her masters with a woman went against every sense of natural order Dawn knew. Mae would have gladly left her behind, if not for the fact that her capture would prove too dangerous for the rest of them.

  Juggling Ava with one arm, Mae pulled out her gun and pointed it at Dawn. “Move,” Mae repeated. For a moment, it seemed the other woman wouldn’t respond to that either, but there was familiarity in force apparently, and Dawn finally began a half-hearted jog. Their group made it to the tree line as the plane came into sight. Mae was relieved to see it wasn’t a military craft and didn’t circle back after passing overhead. They hadn’t been discovered.

  She gently set Ava down, then realized the gun was still out. Feeling self-conscious under the little girl’s gaze, Mae put the gun back in her belt. “I wouldn’t have hurt her,” she said. “I wouldn’t hurt any of you. But other people might hurt us if we’re discovered. Do you understand?”

  The little girl nodded, but whether it was from a need to please, Mae couldn’t say. Ava scurried off to join her friends, and Mae watched with a pang. This wasn’t exactly how she’d envisioned their reunion, but she had to remind herself that Ava knew of no connection between them. They were strangers, strangers who’d been raised in very different environments. Mae had to comfort herself with the knowledge that all would change once they were safely in the RUNA.

  “We might as well rest and take your bathroom break here,” Mae told her charges. “But it won’t be long, so make the most of it.” That last part was met with glum faces. They were tired of this march too, and she could hardly blame them.

  “When can we eat?” asked one. Several others nodded with interest.

  “Soon,” Mae said automatically.

  Food had been a constant struggle on this trip, one she hadn’t foreseen. They’d set off into the wilderness with no supplies, the effects of which were becoming greater and greater each day. It was still high summer, and this part of the country was in a drought, which had proved a blessing in some ways. They were spared the effects of rain, and evenings were warm enough that they didn’t require blankets (though those might have helped keep mosquitos away). The lack of rain meant natural sources of water were running scarce, and it had been a stroke of luck when they’d found a nearly dry creek yesterday to refill their water jugs. The jugs were glass, awkward to carry, but capable of withstanding the temperatures needed to boil the creek water. That process had taken a while, but it and a strict water schedule (that the girls still complained about) had gotten them by.

  They’d need more water by tomorrow, and food was an entirely different matter. The drought wasn’t supporting much in the way of plant-based food sources, and what little there was had been picked over by birds and animals. Drawing on the survival courses she’d taken, Mae had shot and cooked a rabbit yesterday, which hadn’t gone far between Dawn and the girls but had at least given them some protein. Mae had abstained, as she had from most of the food sources they’d scavenged. Praetorian metabolisms craved constant nourishment, but they could withstand deprivation if needed. For a while.

  As the girls rested, Mae made a desperate decision. She pulled Cecile and Monica aside, telling Monica to keep watch on the others and come find Mae if there was trouble. Mae took Cecile with her farther into the woods, until the others were well out of sight. A large stone made a makeshift chair, and Mae settled down on it, taking out the amber knife.

  “I’m not exactly sure what’ll happen to me,” she told the girl. “I think I’ll go into a trance and just sit and stare. I don’t know how long it’ll last. Don’t bother me or talk to me. Stay here and keep watch. The only circumstances under which you should try to get my attention are if Monica comes and there’s some kind of problem—a real problem. If the others are bored or hungry or whatever, then do what you can to get them through. Only bother me if there’s actual danger. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” said Cecile solemnly. What Mae didn’t tell her was that she didn’t know if someone could wake her out of a trance, but hopefully, they wouldn’t have to cross that bridge.

  Wasting no time, Mae slashed the blade across her palm. Cecile gasped and then faded away. The forest shimmered like the scene might change, and then it stabilized and remained as it was. No—not exactly as it was. Everything was more intense—the colors, sounds, smells. It was like Mae was now in a more idealized version of the woods.

  No, said that majestic voice she’d come to know. It’s just that when you open yourself up like this, you’re more in tune with the natural world.

  I need to be in tune with it now so I can find food and figure out how far we are to the border. Can you help me?

  Spread your wings and see for yourself, said the goddess.

  Mae felt hersel
f rise in the air and looked down to see feathered wings, like a falcon’s or hawk’s, where her arms had been. Higher and higher she went, her vision becoming sharper and clearer. Soon, the landscape spread out before her like the map she’d left behind, and she tried to superimpose what she saw now over the memories in her mind. There, to the west, was the ribbon of the Mississippi. They were paralleling it as she’d hoped. In fact, if her knowledge of other natural features was correct, following the constellation had put them on the trajectory she’d hoped for, toward a northern land bound border. Guessing the distance was trickier. On her own, Mae could’ve done it in a day. With the girls? It would take at least two, maybe three.

  We’re going to need food before then, Mae thought. She descended from that lofty height, back toward her rock in the forest. Before reaching it, though, the vision slowed, showing her a change in the tree type a few miles ahead. There, in what appeared to be a dormant orchard, was a small shack.

  So we’re thieves now? she wondered.