Traitors Page 6

  “What if they’re not?” I asked sharply.

  “Love is a pleasant thing to have, but it is not necessary in a marriage. If they do not love one another, then they shall simply have to put up with each other until children are born,” she replied matter-of-factly. “Children change everything. Children can bring out love where it did not seem possible.”

  I wondered if that was how Lorela and Jareth had eventually fallen in love, though it still seemed barbaric to me. She would have had to consummate the marriage without feeling anything but hate for the man she’d married. I doubted Jareth had been very happy about the arrangement, either. Maybe he’d been prevented from marrying someone he loved. I still thought Jareth was a complete asshole, but a small part of him had softened in my eyes, now that I knew he’d endured some hardship in his life. Lorela, too.

  To be honest, I wasn’t sure if that made the arrangement between Seraphina and Navan worse or better. I would have thought they’d feel some compassion toward Navan’s predicament, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

  “I brought you some medicine, Lo, to take away the nightmares,” Ronad said, changing the subject. “Sarrask tells me they’ve been getting worse?”

  Lorela nodded, accepting the vial Ronad offered. “I have such terrible headaches, my sweet boy, and my dreams are so terrifying. I cannot close my eyes for long before the monsters come creeping in.” Her eyes glazed over for a moment as she lifted the vial to her lips and drank deep. “I worry that it is my punishment.”

  “Punishment?” I prompted, hoping the tonic wouldn’t take her too quickly into the Land of Nod.

  She smiled. “Jareth could have done so much more, if it weren’t for me. He had such hopes for our nation. I made him choose,” she murmured sleepily. “He had the key… to change everything.”

  “What do you mean, Lo?” Ronad asked, leaning down to shake her gently by the shoulders, but it was too late—her eyes had closed. The sleeping tonic had done its work.

  I looked at him. “What do you think she meant?”

  “No idea. It might’ve been the tonic talking,” he reasoned, taking the empty vial back and slipping it into his pocket. “It blurs the line between dream and reality.”

  What if it wasn’t a dream? I thought. What had she meant by making Jareth choose? Did she mean choosing her over a job, or choosing a side? I supposed we’d never find out.

  “Keep an eye on the door. I’ll get the device,” I said, with a twinge of guilt. It felt wrong to drug a sick woman so that we could steal a money device that was, presumably, intended for a getaway. But we needed it.

  Ducking down, I slipped under the bedframe, noting the outline of the trapdoor beside me as I slid on my back, using the wooden slats to pull me along. There, still wedged between the mattress and the bedframe, was the circular payment device. I tried to remove it, but it was stuck.

  “Can you roll Lorela over to you?” I asked, feeling stifled by the confined space.

  “Sure thing,” Ronad replied. A moment later, the mattress shifted, the pressure lifting off the side of the mattress where the device was caught.

  I tried to remove it again, only to find that it was strapped in place by two bands of elastic crossed over the device. It was annoying, making its retrieval even more difficult, but at least it confirmed that the device had been deliberately placed there. After some shifting and pulling, I released the object from its prison, gripping it tightly in my hand as I pulled myself out from under the bed.

  I brandished it triumphantly. “Got it!”

  “Good job. Thought I’d lost you under there for a moment,” Ronad teased, rolling Lorela back over and tucking her in, plumping the pillows around her head. I could see he felt bad about what we’d done, too. We slipped out into the hallway.

  “How do we find out how much is on this?” I asked.

  Ronad took the device from me and turned it on. A small screen lit up. He let out a low whistle.

  “There is a lot of money on here,” he whispered.

  “Like, a getaway amount of money?”

  He nodded. “Oh, yeah. This is like a ‘fake your own death and move to a tropical island’ kind of amount.”

  “I guess we’ll have to put it back as soon as possible,” I said, feeling suddenly sick with nerves. If anyone realized money was missing, we’d be in serious trouble. I leaned against the hallway wall, holding my head in my hands, trying to shake off the nausea.

  Ronad put his hand on my shoulder. “Hey, don’t worry. The cab won’t cost that much. Nobody will notice that such a small amount is missing.”

  “You swear you’ll help me put the device back, as soon as we’re done tomorrow?”

  “I swear it. I wouldn’t do anything to put you in harm’s way, Riley. I wouldn’t do that to Navan.”

  The sound of Navan’s name took the edge off the nausea. I longed to hear his voice again. The promise of it gave me the courage I needed. Navan’s life relied on us getting word to him. Not only that, but the lives of Bashrik, Angie, and Lauren relied on our bravery, too. I wasn’t about to let any of them down.

  “We should get out of here before Kaido finishes his findings, or Jareth gets back,” I warned, looking down the hallway.

  “Good idea,” Ronad agreed. We closed the door to Lorela’s room and left her to a deep, dreamless sleep, making our way back to the privacy of our shared tower room. It was still way too early to go to bed, but I felt like I needed to lie down.

  I padded over to my single bed and lay down on the covers. Ronad walked over to his bed, following suit. It still felt weird to be sharing a room with him, but I’d grown used to his energy. Plus, he wasn’t a snorer, which was nice.

  Resting my hands on my stomach, I stared up at the arched ceiling, thinking about what had just happened. “What do you think she meant by a ‘key’?” I asked, listening to Ronad rustle around.

  “I really don’t think she meant anything by it,” he replied. “It’s best we forget she said anything. Otherwise, it might drive us both crazy.” The note of amusement in his voice eased my racing mind. Maybe he was right. After all, he knew this family way better than I did.

  “Do you think we’ll manage to get out and back in tomorrow, without being seen?” I asked.

  “I hope so,” Ronad said. “We have a pretty good chance, I think. Everyone will be at the execution. There won’t be anyone around to spot us.”

  “You really think so?”

  “You know, Naya used to ask a lot of questions when she was nervous,” Ronad admitted unexpectedly. “She’d chatter away when something was on her mind, and she wouldn’t be satisfied until something else had taken over her thoughts. I had a way of distracting her, when we were older, but I definitely wouldn’t try that on you!” he joked, making me laugh.

  “I should hope not!”

  “But, before all of that even began, I remember it used to drive Navan nuts. She’d ask him question after question, and he’d try to be patient, but he’d always end up completely at his wit’s end,” Ronad said, his voice full of humor. “He’d beg her to stop, but she’d keep going, chirping in his ear. The more he pleaded, the more it spurred her on to keep asking things. He locked himself in a cupboard once, to get away from her.”

  I grinned at the image. “What did she do?”

  “What do you think? She kept asking them through the cupboard door, only then he was trapped and had nowhere to run!” Ronad laughed.

  “Tell me some more stories,” I urged quietly. I guessed it had been Ronad’s intention all along, but I found I wasn’t thinking about tomorrow anymore. Instead, I was envisioning the life that Navan and his siblings had lived, before he’d ever even heard of Earth, and me, and all the things that had happened since then.

  “What do you want to know?”

  I smiled. “Everything.”

  Chapter Seven

  I awoke, disoriented by the light streaming in through the narrow windows. I couldn’t remember falli
ng asleep, but the sour taste in my mouth suggested I’d been out for a while. The last thing I remembered was Ronad telling me about a grand party that had been thrown at the house, where Bashrik, Ronad, and Navan had been sent to their rooms for trying to steal cups of the adults’ punch. The elixir had been created from a rare kind of blood, and made them feel loopy.

  I recalled Ronad saying something about a teenage Bashrik starting to do a striptease in front of several very important members of the Vysanthean court, but after that, I had no memory. Sleep must have taken me.

  Rolling over to relieve the stiff ache in my shoulders, I realized I was alone in the tower room. Ronad’s bed was neatly made, evidence that he was already gone. That wasn’t so strange—I was used to him rising early, so he could visit Lorela before breakfast—but I’d only dozed off for a late-afternoon nap. The light from the window was unbearably bright. Surely, the sky should have been darkening, ready for the evening?

  This house was already weird enough without time playing tricks on me. Mystified, I hurried out of the room, my head fuzzy. I took the stairs as fast as my sleepy legs would carry me. Someone was clattering around in the kitchen, just down the hallway.

  “It lives!” Ronad laughed, grinning as I entered.

  I made a confused face. “What do you mean?”

  “You, sleeping like the dead! I tried to wake you up a couple of times, but you were out like a light. I figured you were tired, so I let you rest,” he replied, his laughter fading.

  “Wait, what day is it?” I sat on a kitchen stool and held my head in my hands. Had I been asleep since yesterday afternoon? I mean, I felt rested, but I didn’t feel that rested.

  “It’s sneaking-out day. Are you feeling okay?” His face showed a growing concern. “Do you feel sick?”

  I shook my head. “I feel fine… I just don’t feel like someone who’s been asleep for more than twelve hours.”

  “It might’ve been whatever Kaido put in your system during his experiment,” Ronad reasoned. “He came upstairs last night, looking for you, but I told him you were resting. He didn’t seem surprised. He muttered something about temporary side effects, but I tend to ignore most of what he says.”

  “This time, it might’ve been nice if you’d actually listened,” I said, instantly regretting the grumpiness in my voice. “Sorry, my head feels like it’s full of fluff.”

  He smiled. “Apology accepted. I can only imagine what that plant stuff must have done to your brain.” He pulled a funny face, making me laugh. He had a way of doing that—always cracking a joke or doing something silly to let me know we were cool again.

  “Speaking of Kaido, where is he?”

  “He said he was going to try and catch you before he left for the public execution,” Ronad replied, moving over to my personal stash of fruits and vegetables.

  “What about Jareth?”

  Ronad juggled three vibrant fruits—pink, yellow, and blue—before slicing them up and fanning them out on a platter. “He’s already gone. I imagine Gianne wanted him there early, for some official rigmarole.”

  “Good word,” I commended.

  “I do enjoy stretching the old vocabulary now and again. You humans have such beautiful languages, beyond what these things can translate.” He tapped the side of his head, where his linguistic nano-chip was implanted. “Sometimes, it’s nice to throw in one I’ve learned the old-fashioned way. I know Navan takes pride in showcasing what he’s bothered to learn himself.”

  Smiling sadly at the thought of Navan, I pulled back the edge of my collar and glanced down at the flashing climpet beneath. There it was, blinking steadily, letting me know my boyfriend’s heart was still beating.

  Ronad carved another pink fruit into a flower, the petals curving outward. For someone who didn’t eat solid food, he was becoming quite the culinary artiste.

  “Good morning,” Kaido announced brusquely, making me turn away from Ronad’s sharp prep skills. “I trust you are well rested, as you appear to have slept for more than half a full day.”

  “Not as much as you’d think,” I replied with a warm smile.

  “I should have warned you yesterday—your brain chemistry is unaccustomed to the plants used in my serum, so your body will likely be forced to compensate with fatigue, leading to an increased amount of rest,” he said. “An oversight on my part, but it is a temporary side effect. You should be back to normal by the end of the day, tomorrow at the latest.”

  I raised a doubtful eyebrow. “Seems like there are a lot of side effects that you neglected to warn me about.” After all, feeling suddenly sleepy was the last thing I needed today, with a big mission awaiting me.

  Kaido shook his head. “I did not neglect to tell you of them. You merely forgot I had told you.”

  “Makes total sense,” I teased.

  “Anyway, I hoped to give you the results of the experiment before I left,” Kaido went on. “As I suspected, your brain chemistry responded in the exact opposite manner to that of a Vysanthean mind. That is not where the intrigue stops, however.”

  Ronad smirked. “Intriguing for you, maybe,” he muttered, bringing over the platter of fruit for me.

  I shot him a disapproving look. “I think it’s fascinating, actually.”

  “Thank you, Riley. I am glad someone has intellectual curiosity in this room,” Kaido remarked. It was probably the closest thing to a deliberate insult he was capable of. “The most fascinating finding was that, when stimulated by the serum, the affected areas of your brain released trace amounts of a chemical we call imocea. It is something I have never encountered in the brain chemistry of another species, aside from Vysantheans. Indeed, I thought it was unique to our people, until now.”

  I looked at him in shock. “And I have it in my brain?”

  “A very, very insignificant amount, yes,” he said excitedly. “It does not naturally occur, it would seem, but is produced when your brain is properly stimulated. Now, we Vysantheans have it running in our veins—it is what allows us our superior strength, speed, healing, brain function, etcetera. It is what sets us apart from many other species.”

  “But the Draconians are stronger and faster than you. Don’t they have it?” I wondered.

  Kaido scoffed. “Their strength stems from a different physical chemistry altogether—there are many chemicals and mutations that can cause different developments,” he said, sounding like a schoolteacher. “I believe there were studies done, a long time ago, into what made the Draconians so formidable, but those findings were lost. What we do know, however, is that imocea is responsible for our growth.”

  “So, why is it in my head?” I asked, dumbfounded.

  He paused thoughtfully. “It is something we shall endeavor to discover together, Riley. If you would be willing, I should like to investigate more, to see if there is, somehow, a common link between your species and mine,” he proposed. “Naturally, your species is a mere embryo compared to us, but perhaps you are an ancestral offshoot—the product of an errant entity that managed to escape Vysanthe’s atmosphere and travel all the way to Krypton.” A short, sharp bark—his alarming attempt at laughter—erupted from his throat. Evidently, there was something hilarious in the idea of that happening. I chuckled along with him, wanting him to feel comfortable.

  “You’re going to be late, Kaido,” Ronad chimed in, nodding to the clock on the wall.

  “Oh dear, that is not good. I have lingered too long,” Kaido muttered, suddenly flustered.

  “Yeah, you better get going!” Ronad said.

  Kaido looked at me, ignoring Ronad completely. “You will consent to more experiments? This may be the breakthrough I’ve sought my entire life. It may explain those people you spoke of, who are similar to me, where you come from,” he said, with such hope in his voice that I couldn’t bring myself to say no.

  “As long as you don’t hide any more side effects from me, I’ll help you out,” I joked feebly.

  He frowned. “I did not keep
them from you, Riley. I will do my best to repeat the warnings next time, once the experiment is over,” he assured me, missing my joke entirely. “Now, I must go before I really am late. Please, take good care of my mother while I am away,” he added, turning his pointed gaze at Ronad.

  “I’ll look after her like she was my own mother,” he replied, his tone cold.

  “Excellent. Well, goodbye then.”

  Kaido hurried from the room. A moment later, the front door opened and closed, and the house fell silent.

  “I thought he’d never leave,” Ronad muttered.

  “You really don’t like him, do you?”

  He shrugged. “I just don’t see how someone can lose a sister and feel nothing. He acted like someone had just told him the brand of blood we had in the mornings was going to change—he didn’t care. I don’t know what’s wrong with him, but even if he has these problems you say he does… to show no emotion whatsoever? I’ll never understand that.”

  I didn’t feel like continuing that line of conversation, not when we had so much to do today. He felt a certain way and had lived with those feelings for a long time now. I knew it would take more than a few words to change his mind.

  “Come on, we should get going too,” I prompted.

  He shot me a grateful smile. “I found some good stuff in the basement the other day. We should have a look and throw on some disguises. We’re definitely going to need something to hide these,” he said, gesturing to his face and mine.

  Feeling anxious, I followed Ronad into the entrance hall and down the labyrinth of corridors that led to the basement steps. All the while, I thought about what Kaido had said about the imocea. Was there some ancestral link between humans and coldbloods? Looking at Ronad now, with his tanned skin and wingless back, I guessed we weren’t a million miles away from each other.

  “I guess gray skin would be pretty handy right now,” I said as we hurried along. “I hadn’t even thought about clothes to keep us warm.” I flashed Ronad a grin, but he didn’t seem to be in his usual high spirits. A sadness was etched across his face. “You okay?”