Renegades Page 12

  “How on earth could any piece of tech be capable of that?” Angie frowned. “When a coldblood speaks to us, we hear our language, while other coldbloods hear… their native language? And how do they understand us? That’s insane.”

  Lauren shrugged. “Well, we don’t know what we don’t know, right? I mean, three hundred years ago, would we have ever thought the internet was possible? Smart phones? They would have basically been magic, right?”

  “Yeah, I guess,” Angie mumbled, still looking bewildered as we descended the stairs.

  In the entrance hall, my heart fluttered as I saw Navan standing there, waiting for us. He turned, his face morphing into a mask of amazement as his eyes locked with mine. Bashrik, standing beside him, only had eyes for Angie, his mouth open in shock. They didn’t look too shabby either, with Bashrik dressed in a deep scarlet suit with a high collar and a cream shirt beneath, a peculiar maroon cravat at his neck. Navan wore something similar, though he was dressed in a suit of dark gray that highlighted the color of his eyes.

  Looking around, I noticed that nobody else was wearing a suit in the same color as Bashrik, and I wondered if the queen had arranged it herself, so everyone would know who her love was, when the moment came. Poor guy.

  “I can’t put into words how amazing you look,” Navan whispered, taking my hand and placing a gentle kiss on my cheek.

  Bashrik looked as though he was about to offer his hand to Angie, but thought better of it. Part of me was glad, seeing that Lauren didn’t have a partner, but I still felt sorry for Angie. I imagined she was wishing Bashrik would make a move. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. If she hadn’t been so damn passive aggressive with him till now, he probably would have. She needed to work on her flirting skills.

  “Shall we?” I suggested, gesturing toward the garden exit, where everyone was being ushered.

  Navan slipped my arm through his, and we set off through the arched doorway, which had been decorated with sprays of tiny blue flowers and dripping fronds of crystalline willows forged from gemstones. Miniature lights were embedded within the display, illuminating the way into the gardens.

  In the distance, I could hear the beating of happy drums. The street carnival was well underway outside the palace, by the sounds of things. I still longed to be out there, immersed in some true Vysanthean culture. Instead, we had a job to do, with sparse opportunity to enjoy our time.

  As I stepped down into the gardens, I marveled at the lights that filled every tree and snaked around every branch and bough, the whole place sparkling like a galaxy. Crystals dangled between the lights, catching the beams and sending a shower of rainbow luminescence down upon the gathered party. The grounds had been decorated with ice sculptures conveying strange birds and lovers entwined. Chatter babbled all around, with stunningly beautiful coldbloods sipping scarlet liquid from expensive-looking glasses. Underneath it all, I could make out strange music, the mood somewhere between a melancholy lullaby and a pretty ballad, though it was nowhere near as exciting as the bawdy music outside the palace walls.

  Waiters weaved in and out of the guests, offering vials and glasses filled with Vysanthean delicacies. As a waiter paused beside us, Bashrik took up one of the proffered drinks, while the rest of us gave a polite refusal.

  “You think that’s wise?” Navan reprimanded, nodding to the glass.

  “Hey, you’re not the one who has to pretend to be in love with a queen. Cut me some slack,” he replied tersely, drinking it down in one gulp.

  “Fair enough, just don’t drink too much,” Navan muttered.

  Bashrik shot him a look. “Let me worry about that.”

  “So we need to find Yorrek,” Lauren cut in.

  “Yes. Anyone seen him yet?” Navan asked.

  I shook my head. “No sign, but I’ll keep an eye on the door, check for new arrivals.”

  “I’ll hang around by the tables, see if I can spot him,” Lauren added.

  “I’ll join you,” Angie said, stealing a sly look at Bashrik, whose eyes had been discreetly wandering back to her since she’d come down the stairs.

  With that, my friends disappeared into the crowd, heading for the dancefloor that had been set up on the lawn, with the dining tables arranged around it. There were a surprising number of couples already dancing, but it was the sight of Queen Brisha, sitting on a throne at the center of the high table, that caught my eye. She was dressed in a silver gown that looked like a second skin, a glittering tiara upon her head, her long, pale copper hair tumbling down in elegant waves. She looked stunning, I had to give her that, even though my hopes were firmly on Angie and Bashrik.

  “How about a dance?” Navan asked, taking me by surprise.

  “I need to watch the door,” I replied, eyeing him suspiciously. He hated dancing.

  He smiled. “We can watch the door from the dancefloor. It has the best vantage point for watching the entire garden,” he explained, offering out his hand.

  “What makes you so eager to show off your moves all of a sudden?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

  “Dancing with you, in that dress, makes it just about bearable,” he said, grinning as he took my hand and led me over to the dancefloor, where Angie and Lauren were already dancing in one another’s arms, much to the amusement of the surrounding coldbloods.

  Turning my attention to Navan, I nestled into his arms, feeling one hand slip around my waist, as his fingers laced through mine. I rested my head on his shoulder, my eyes on the doorway to the gardens. Even as a lookout, it didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy a dance with my boyfriend.

  As we made our way around the dancefloor, swaying to the slow music, I was barely aware of anything but Navan and the doorway. I saw Queen Brisha smile as we passed her by, but everyone seemed to have had enough of the novelty we presented, returning to their own conversations and partners. It was precisely what I’d hoped for.

  Fifteen minutes later, I saw Angie and Lauren dance toward us.

  “He’s here,” Angie whispered, nodding her head toward a second entrance, to the side of the gardens where two burly guards stood, their pikes crossed. Yorrek flashed them a hologram, which popped up on a device he held, and the guards let him through. Even so, he didn’t appear to be in the party spirit, his eyes glancing around furtively, his manner on edge.

  We broke away from the dancefloor for a moment, the five of us gathering beside an empty drinks table. From the outside, it looked like we were just taking a refreshment break after a long dance.

  “Okay, everyone move into their places,” Navan said quietly, and we all nodded in agreement. “Bashrik, you really need to make the queen swoon,” he added with a grimace.

  Bashrik cleared his throat nervously. “Good thing I’m the best dancer in this place, then,” he said, forcing a smile, though his voice was strained.

  “You’ll be fine,” I said comfortingly, trying hard not to look at Angie.

  “I just wish I had a good reason to refuse her, you know?” Bashrik muttered, letting out a breath. “It just doesn’t seem fair to lead her on. She’s not that bad of a person… I suppose I can’t just say I’m not attracted to her, can I?”

  Navan smiled. “Afraid not, Brother.”

  “Then, swooning it is,” Bashrik murmured, his expression darkening as he took off toward the queen’s throne.

  Taking that as our sign to move out, Angie hurried through the throngs of guests toward the secluded room on the first floor, taking Navan’s key with her. Lauren, meanwhile, moved away from the dancefloor, coming to a halt beside a piece of topiary shaped like a winged wolf, where she could keep an eye out for guards, or anyone who might come and snatch Yorrek before we had the chance to.

  “You ready?” Navan asked. My gaze drifted toward Yorrek, who seemed to be keeping to the high hedges of the garden perimeter.

  I nodded. “Let’s get this over with.”

  We casually wandered in Yorrek’s direction, not wanting it to seem too obvious that we were making a be
eline for him. His eyes went wide in surprise as he spotted us, though he stopped and waited for us to approach, evidently concluding he had nothing to fear from us.

  “You—you’re the one who came to see me?” he barked as we came to a halt in front of him.

  “I am, though we still haven’t had the pleasure of your company at the building site,” I said, smiling warmly.

  “In fact, it’s serendipitous that you happen to be here this evening, as we’ve had some developments regarding the alchemy lab. We’d really appreciate your opinion,” Navan added, a polite smile on his face. “Bashrik was thinking about writing to you, but would you mind coming to have a look now? If you’re not busy, that is. I wouldn’t want to drag you away from the celebrations, considering you’re one of the honored guests.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I despise parties. I would rather be home,” Yorrek snapped, narrowing his rheumy eyes at Navan. “You’re both Jareth Idrax’s sons, correct?” he added, his tone cold.

  Navan nodded. “Sadly, Jareth Idrax is my father.”

  “A fine alchemist,” Yorrek muttered. “Shame he works for the enemy.”

  He didn’t say it, but I heard a slight accusation in his voice that Navan might hold the same allegiances as his father. Even so, it was evident that Yorrek held Navan and his brother in some sort of high regard, given their impressive bloodline.

  “It is a shame I couldn’t persuade my father to switch the direction of his moral compass, as I have done,” Navan replied, a sincere expression on his face.

  “You say you want me to look at the latest developments?” Yorrek asked.

  Navan gestured to the doorway of the gardens. “If you’re not too busy.”

  “Bashrik seems preoccupied with the queen. I don’t think his mind is anywhere near the alchemy lab,” Yorrek remarked frostily, his eyes resting on Bashrik, who was leaning over the high table, speaking with Queen Brisha in a way that was making her smile giddily, her cheeks flushing. Good job, Bash.

  “Indeed, his mind is otherwise engaged for this evening,” Navan said. “In fact, it’s Bashrik’s assistant, Angie, who wishes to meet with you. I believe you’ve met her before?”

  “Short one, hair like a basket of snakes?” Yorrek sniped.

  Navan maintained his polite smile. “That’s the one.”

  “What kind of developments are we talking about?”

  Navan shrugged apologetically. “Honestly, I don’t know. Angie just said she would rather be working on the lab tonight than mingling with people. She mentioned she had some ideas that will quicken the build, but that’s all I know,” he replied. “She’s up in the palace studio now, drawing some designs. I’m sure she’d welcome the insight, since Bashrik is proving useless today,” he added grimly. This seemed to please Yorrek, a cold smile creeping onto his thin lips.

  “I admit that I respect a female with a mind firmly on the job. None of this romance nonsense clogging up the brain,” Yorrek said, waggling a finger in Bashrik’s direction. “If she’s at work, then I should be too. Lead the way. The sooner we have that lab built, the sooner I can get back to doing what I do best, under the safety and security of the queen’s protection.” His small eyes glanced around, as if to punctuate the point that he didn’t feel safe. His paranoia was so infectious, I almost felt like someone was watching us.

  We led Yorrek, who walked between us, back through the gardens and into the palace, taking him up the staircase and toward the hallway on the first floor, where the annex was tucked away. I glanced over my shoulder as we hurried down the corridor, conscious of someone following. However, no matter how many times I turned to look back, there was never anyone there. Either they were very good at hiding, or my mind was playing tricks on me.

  We ushered him into the annex room, shutting the door firmly behind us. As Navan reached into his pocket and took out the hypnosis serum, which had been placed into a syringe, I turned the key in the lock. Navan immediately darted for Yorrek and thrust the needle into his neck, pressing down on the plunger until there was no trace of the purple substance within.

  Yorrek yelped and gaped up at Navan in surprise, before raising his fists in a fighting stance. I glanced to Navan in confusion. The serum hadn’t worked!

  With his fangs bared, the alchemist lunged for the door, trying to grasp the handle. Navan barreled into him, knocking him out of the way. Yorrek whirled around with surprising agility and swiped at Navan’s face.

  “Stop it!” I shouted as Yorrek’s clawed hands reached for Navan’s throat.

  Immediately, Yorrek went still, retracting his hands.

  The serum had worked—we just had to express commands. Angie looked at me excitedly, and a wave of relief crashed over Navan’s face.

  “Which ingredients are needed to make the immortality elixir?” Angie asked, jumping straight in.

  “A pressurized combination of some kind of alien blood, extract of Morgana, a base of Vysanthean blood, liquid from the seed of a fenghazi plant, a few drops of maram root, and adrenaline distilled from a frostfang,” Yorrek replied automatically, his voice a monotone.

  “In which quantities?” Navan asked.

  Yorrek looked thoughtful. “It is hard to say. The quantities are still being studied. I have a book of almost-successful trials, using various quantities. Queen Brisha has it. I could not tell you off the top of my head,” he answered. I frowned at this news, knowing it might necessitate a trip to Brisha’s chambers to see if we could get our hands on Yorrek’s book.

  Glancing at Yorrek, it was definitely nice to be on the opposite side of the interrogation table, for once.

  “Have any alien bloods worked yet?” I asked.

  Yorrek shook his head. “None, though we are hopeful of the new sample being the key.”

  “And how might that blood be synthesized?” Navan added.

  “It has to be put in a centrifuge to separate the purest part. The plasma of many species is toxic to us, and we believe it is the same with this new blood,” Yorrek replied obediently.

  “What is the alchemical process in making the immortality elixir?” Navan asked, the curiosity in his eyes intensifying.

  Yorrek smiled. “Each individual aspect has to be allowed to react, one at a time, in sequence.”

  Navan frowned. “How long does that take?”

  “Ordinarily, synthesis takes weeks, and alchemical reactions can take months,” Yorrek explained. “However, we have successfully completed a new compressor device and a rapid centrifuge, which work together. They are used in unison to speed up these alchemical reactions, meaning we do not have to wait for the synthesis of the blood, or the time required for reactions to occur naturally. And so, we can reduce alchemy time down from weeks or months to hours or days, depending on what we are making.”

  I flashed a look at Navan. That was news to me. When I’d last asked Brisha about a timeframe, she’d told me weeks. This was definitely something the rebels hadn’t heard about before, either. I was sure of it. If this technology now existed, that changed the game entirely. It would allow an alchemist to trial a new elixir in super-quick time, meaning a success could be achieved faster. Not only that, I realized it would undoubtedly mean that an elixir could be produced in mass quantities, if it could be done that quickly.

  Standing in the center of the room, I noticed Yorrek’s sinewy muscles tense, where before they had been loose and relaxed. His rheumy eyes were still foggy and unfocused, but they seemed to be gathering some sort of clarity.

  “The serum is already wearing off,” Angie said, voicing my thoughts.

  “One more question,” Navan said quickly, leaning closer to Yorrek and gripping his shoulders. “Do you know where the new sample of blood comes from?”

  The alchemist looked at him blankly, his mouth hanging open, his brow creased in thought.

  Then he lunged forward and headbutted Navan, hard. Staggering back, Navan tried to grasp at Yorrek again, but Yorrek managed to dodge him. I realized we
’d forgotten to tie him up, as per the plan. We’d been lured into a false sense of security by the hypnosis serum, thinking that would be enough to hold him. With it fading from his system, he shot toward the door and yanked it open with all his Vysanthean speed and strength, before tearing out into the hallway beyond. Back toward the party.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “We can’t let him escape!” I gasped.

  Navan immediately launched after Yorrek, spreading out his wings. He glided over the balustrade of the landing and dropped to the ground below, where Yorrek was already weaving through the crowds of revelers. I glanced at Angie, who hurriedly shoved the cap back on the syringe of Elysium she had just pulled out, and put it down the front of her dress. With that, we sprinted from the room as fast as our gowns would allow. I kicked off my heels and carried them under my arms as we descended the stairs. If only my wings were permanent.

  Up ahead, Navan had almost caught up to the alchemist, though he’d had to tuck his wings away to avoid hitting the faces of those around him. People were already looking at him as though he were something nasty on the bottom of their shoes, given the intrusive way he’d landed among them. Regardless, Navan’s eyes were focused on his prey, who had slowed down, thanks to the after-effects of the hypnosis serum.

  Yorrek paused, catching his breath at the far edge of the grand entrance hall, but within seconds he was running again, heading for the archway that led to the garden party. Navan was closing the gap, but it wasn’t small enough. If Yorrek got outside and told anyone what was going on, we were done for.