49
Teag stumbled again, earning a smack from the trader behind him. He turned to glower, though it was hard to make out the other Oni's face in the dim light of his lantern. After a terrifying descent, Teag had reached the bottom of the ravine to find that there was only a small group of traders at the bottom. They had a few tents set up—it seemed they were purposefully stationed there to lower slaves down.
The traders at the bottom of the ravine were crueler than the one who claimed to be an Ancient. They seemed most agitated about the fact that he was the only slave. "Waking us up in the middle of the night for a single kid?" one had grumbled as he untied the rope around Teag.
"Just be grateful there wasn't a huge group. It takes forever getting them all down here, even when we use the other four ropes," another had pointed out.
"At least a large group feels worth the effort."
Now Teag was being forced to travel down the ravine to an unknown destination. He glanced up, though he knew he wouldn't be able to see the sky. They had left the ravine itself into a series of tunnels, and the ceiling was low and claustrophobic.
"Are we almost there?" he finally asked, feeling squeamish about being underground so long. The trader behind him scoffed.
"Don't ask questions, kid. Just keep walking."
Teag fell silent, heading through the tunnels. The fact that the trader insisted on travelling behind him made him feel worse. Was it so he couldn't go running back the way he came, or because the trader wanted Teag to get attacked first if they ran into a pack of sniffers or something? His heart began pounding harder, and he prayed that wherever they were going, they would get there soon.
Eventually, the tunnel began to incline, and Teag panted as he tried to climb with his wrists still bound. He hadn't had anything to eat or drink since leaving the Eastern Fortress, but he also knew better than to ask the trader for water. Just as he was sure he was going to pass out, the trader grabbed his shoulder.
"All right, we're here," he said gruffly. "No funny business—it's already annoying enough to make the trip for just one lousy kid. Don't give me any reason to punish you for that."
Teag tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. He realized that the tunnel itself was lightening, and he felt a wave of relief when he realized that they were heading out into sunshine. Teag stumbled out into a large area, and he blinked in surprise. He had no idea where he was—the area was mainly desert, though there were a few clumps of trees around, no doubt surrounding small areas of water. Tents were everywhere, all bearing the same symbol. It looked like a circle with a line that split it in half and stuck out either side, with a smaller circle inside the first one.
"Welcome to the Inner Ring," the trader said gruffly, shoving Teag to keep him moving. "Let's go find Quazier and figure out where to stick you, shall we?"
Teag walked numbly, and as they headed down into the camp, he noticed oni milling about. They must have been traders, rather than slaves—they were chatting and laughing around firepits or wells, and he could hear the sound of blacksmiths. His stomach growled at the smell of cooking meat as they passed one of the firepits.
"Oi, Jod, whatcha got there?" One of the traders sneered as Teag passed. The man behind him sighed.
"A single slave. Imgloss brought him to the chasm in the middle of the night by himself. If you ask me, I deserve the rest of the day off just for bothering with the runt."
"Imgloss brought him?" another Oni asked, coming closer for a look. "He must be important, zen. Is zat vie you're here, boy? Are you important?"
Teag swallowed, his heart pounding louder. Had the ancient known he had powers? Is that why he was willing to go through the trouble of buying him from Tala and bringing him? He decided against saying anything, and the Oni who spoke strangely looked him up and down.
"Seems healzy enough," he decided, grabbing Teag's face so he could turn it one way and another. "Not sick, or veak, like ze vons ve keep getting from ze north." The trader looked down at where Teag's hands were bound and grabbed the tattered bandage still wrapped around one of Teag's hands. "Vat is zis?"
"Hurt myself," Teag muttered. The strange Oni frowned as he pulled the bandage free and examined the wound.
"A burn," the Oni decided. "Vat did you get burned on?"
"I worked in a blacksmith shop," he said, wishing they would stop asking him questions and take him to where the other slaves were. He had to find Dee.
"In ze vest?" the Oni asked before turning to the other trader standing nearby. "Zis is vestern fashion, yes?"
"Yeah," another decided. "I thought Quazier told us not to take kids from the west. Didn't want to rile that Western Leader up."
"I'm from the east," Teag growled. "I stole these clothes."
"Is zat right?" the strange oni asked, smirking at him.
Teag swallowed, ready to get the attention off of himself. "Why do you talk funny?" he demanded, and the trader behind him smacked him.
"I knew you were going to be trouble," he muttered. "You best learn respect, or you'll be taught it soundly."
"Ah, go easy on him, Jod," the strange Oni laughed. "Most Oni have never encountered people of ze deep souzern ravine." He turned back to Teag. "Zere's a small tribe of us down here, minding our own business avay from all ze politics of ze realm. Ve are similar to ze rest of oni kind, of course...apart from our accents. Zo, in my ears, you are ze von who talks funny, little boy."
Teag flushed at being called little. He was fourteen—nearly a man. He didn't need some freak patronizing him. However, he kept quiet, and the strange oni continued.
"Most people don't realize ve are even here...ze Inner Ring discovered us a few years ago and ve decided to go into business togezer, as it vere."
"Thanks for the history lesson, Yotta," Jod said dryly. "You Raviners and your long-winded stories."
"History is ze fabric of life," Yotta said simply. "You should be grateful for our careful study of history—it is because of it zat you understood ze outsiders for vat zey vere ven zey arrived, and vat you traders could gain from zem."
Teag blinked in surprise at that, and the large trader standing next to Yotta smacked his companion. "Shut up, Yotta...don't be saying things in front of the slave."
"Oh, come off it Igu. Who's the kid going to tell?" Jod asked tiredly. "He's stuck here with the others, and he'll know about the other realm soon enough when they send their transporters. Quazier said it would be any day now."
"Speaking of Quazier, you should get ze boy to him," Yotta pointed out.
"I was trying to," Jod reminded, shoving Teag from behind. Teag stumbled forward woodenly, his mind still trying to process what he had learned.
Agatha rehearsed in her mind what she would say. She had a bag over one shoulder containing the vengestone chain, and she fingered the heavy metal links through the bag's thin material. Her testing had proven what the mine director had already alluded to—the chain originated in Metallonia, in the very region the MIRI was found in.
Agatha passed a few scientists in the hall, but they didn't try to stop her as she headed for Zerek's office. She gave each of them a smile as she passed by, and they returned the gesture, but she didn't stop to chat like she normally would. She knew the other scientists wouldn't be suspicious that she was visiting the lab's director—Zerek and Agatha's father had been close colleagues years ago, and Agatha had always felt comfortable seeking the advice and opinion of MIRI's director on her own projects over the years. However, she doubted this chat would be as cordial as their previous ones.
She reached his office at last, and she stared at the words etched on the glass of the door. Dr. Aristo Zerek. After a moment, she sighed and knocked. There was no answer, and she realized that it looked like the office was dark. It seemed the man was missing, and she felt both relieved and irritated. She needed answers, and she wasn't willing to wait a few days to find them.
Agatha glanced behind her, but the hallway was empty. She chewed her lip for a moment before reaching out to try the door handle. She hadn't expected it to be unlocked, so when it turned in her hand, her heart leapt to her throat.
The scientist only spent a moment debating before pushing her way into the office. The lights flickered on automatically as she entered, and she swallowed as she glanced around. "Dr. Zerek?" she called, but there was no answer. She stood frozen in the doorway, immediately feeling foolish. What was she going to do? Search his desk for answers on why he would have hired the mine to craft vengestone chains...and how on earth those chains had ended up in a completely different realm? Zere has to be a reasonable explanation, she reminded herself, but try as she might, she couldn't come up with one. At least, not one that left Zerek in a positive light.
Agatha finally took a deep breath and headed over to Zerek's desk after all. Perhaps she wouldn't be able to find anything, but she couldn't tell Amber and Julien what she had discovered until she knew the reason behind it all.
She pulled out the top drawer and found it unlocked, but it only had pens and a few screwdrivers inside. She pulled one of the screwdrivers out and studied it. It seemed Zerek was used to tinkering with projects in his own office, if he had all these tools on hand. She replaced the screwdriver and noticed a phone sitting in the back of the drawer. She fished it out, confused. She had seen Zerek on his phone many times, and this wasn't it. This one was sleeker with a red case. It didn't turn on as she picked it up, so Agatha held down the power button to see if she could figure out what Zerek used it for. She doubted her ability to hack into it, but—
Her train of thought ended as the phone powered up, but the lock screen was not at all what she expected. She was shocked to see a picture of a young man standing next to Amber—they were dressed up in costumes, and he was attempting to do bunny ears behind her horns while she rolled her eyes at him. On screen, notifications lit up.
Seven missed calls, and three new messages from Oni Gurl...
Agatha's hands began to shake. She was able to read part of the text message in the notification, and it was clear "Oni Gurl" was Amber, based on the picture of her laughing next to the message: Hey, M...did you make it home safe? I wanted to say...
The rest of the message trailed off, and clicking on it only made the phone demand for a password in order to continue. Agatha shook her head—even without hacking into it, she had seen enough to be concerned.
She looked up, trying to scan the room for any reason for why Zerek would have Amber's friend's phone. Perhaps it was broken, and the scientist had offered to fix it?
Zat is stupid, and you know it, her inner voice scolded, but Agatha wasn't willing to face the more reasonable truth. As she looked around the office, she realized that Zerek's poster of the periodic table was coming off of the wall nearby. The poster had been there for as long as she could remember, but with the corner of it pulling away, she could see a black bulletin board behind it with what looked like a picture of someone.
Agatha closed the drawer, though she kept a hold of the phone. She headed over for the poster and carefully peeled it off to expose a board decorated with various pictures in three rows. For a moment, Agatha wasn't sure what she was looking at. There were four pictures in the top row, one in the second, and two on the bottom. Julien's picture was the first Agatha noticed—his was the one lingering alone in the middle row. Agatha realized that Amber was on the bottom row, along with one of Julien's other friends. It was one of the twins—she never could remember their names. The one with blue-tipped hair.
As Agatha finally began to scan the top row, she realized there were words written on the pictures. There was Ashley—the one who had hosted the meal in Ninjago. Her picture had Fire written on it, and Agatha chewed her lip as she realized the next two pictures were also friends of Julien's, with Lightning and Water written on them. The last picture was grainy, and Agatha didn't recognize him. However based on his features, he had to be Amber's brother. His picture had Earth scrawled across it like an accusation, and unlike the other pictures, it was starred.
"Vat is Zerek doing?" Agatha breathed, reaching out to touch the picture of Julien.
"Ze question is, vat are you doing?"
Agatha whirled, her heart leaping to her throat. Dr. Zerek stood in the doorway, his expression as calm and lax as ever as he studied her. For a moment, the woman wanted to fire off some excuse—act like she suspected nothing. However, as she thought of Julien's picture on the wall, her hand tightened around the phone she had found.
"Vat is all zis?" she demanded angrily, gesturing to the board. "Vie do you have zese pictures of Julien and his friends?"
Zerek's gaze flicked to the bulletin board. "Zat is part of my collection."
"Collection? Vat collection?" Agatha spat. She began to shake, and she wasn't sure if it was out of anxiety or anger. "And vie do you have zis phone? It's belongs to Amber's friend, doesn't it? Ze von she's been trying to contact for days..."
"Yes." Zerek stepped into the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Agatha was shocked by his simple confession, and her eyes began to smart with tears of betrayal.
"And ze vengestone chains?" she asked, throwing the bag onto the ground. "Zat you hired ze mine to make? Zat ended up in ze Oni realm...Zerek, vat is going on? Vat are you doing?"
Zerek chuckled then, and Agatha blinked. She wasn't sure when she had last heard him laugh, and the sound carried a foreboding feeling. "You alvays vere clever, Agatha," he murmured. "It's a pity, really...you vere turning out to be such a promising scientist."
Agatha watched in horror as her mentor turned the lock on the door with an ominous click.
Rook watched the Heir dismount. He didn't even bother asking her if she needed help. Not that she needed it...but he usually at least offered. The bodyguard had gone up ahead—he had given the Heir a wide berth the whole way home from the Eastern market, and Rook almost wished she could do the same. It was awkward sitting in front of the fuming young man who snapped at her every time she tried to engage him in conversation. It was almost bad enough she wished she had brought her own hoofer after all.
The Heir began leading his hoofer into the stable, and Rook had to hurry and slide off the saddle to avoid smacking her head on the beam of the doorway.
"Hey!" she scolded, irritation mixing in with the awkward tension. The Heir didn't even look at her, still seemingly lost to his own dark thoughts. Rook scowled before lashing out to grab the reins he was already holding. He finally looked back then.
"What are you doing?" he demanded as Rook tried to pull the reins from his grip.
"Getting your attention," she snapped, but then her expression softened. "Are you all right?"
"Fine," he muttered, trying to pull the reins free. Rook kept her hold on them.
"You have a bruise on your face that begs otherwise," she insisted, looking pointedly at the discolored spot on his otherwise pale face. There was still a bit of dried blood on to the area, and she reached out to touch it. He stopped her.
"I'll live," he said dryly. She rolled her eyes.
"I didn't think you were dying," Rook assured sarcastically. "But you can't say that you're fine, because you've been muttering and stewing about it the whole way home."
"What happened at the market is none of your business," he said coldly.
Rook narrowed her eyes and grabbed his arm roughly. "That attack threw off our little mission, didn't it?" she hissed, soft enough that the others in the stable wouldn't hear her. "That makes it my business."
"It wasn't an attack," he muttered. "We can go back to the Eastern Markets tomorrow to finish our mission."
"That woman chucked a rock at your head," Rook argued. "That hardly seemed like a warm greeting. And all those hand spasms..."
"She can't talk, all right?" the Heir snapped. The ground under Rook's feet seemed to rumble, and she looked down in confusion. Theodynn didn't seem to notice as he continued, his voice soft and angry. "Haiven can't speak like you or I can...she has to rely on other ways to communicate."
"Well, throwing things definitely got her point across," Rook said dryly, though she was intrigued by the fact that the Heir's old flame was incapable of speech. She didn't even know it was possible for someone to not know how to talk.
"Would you drop it? It wasn't that big of a deal."
"I obviously don't know what went down between the two of you, and I'm not asking you to tell me the details," Rook countered. "But you seem rather butt-hurt over someone you aren't seeing anymore who was willing to hurt you to get her point across."
"She probably didn't mean to hit me," the Heir argued, his expression clouding. "She's just a little...impulsive sometimes. I'm sure she saw us together and reacted without thinking it through."
"I have to ask," Rook said, stepping in front of him as he went to go into the stables again. "Who broke it off? You or her?" Theo didn't say anything as he pulled away at last, leading his hoofer to its stall. However, the look on his face was answer enough, and Rook scoffed. "For what it's worth, she's an idiot," Rook called.
Theodynn stiffened. "I'm not asking you to have an opinion about her...or any of this. In fact, do me a favor and forget about what happened at the Market."
"Cuz that's working so well for you," she pointed out dryly. The Heir didn't answer as he reached his stall and began to remove his hoofer's reins and saddle. Rook assumed he had decided to ignore her, which irked her.
The assassin leaned up against a post in the stable as she watched the Heir work. Several stalls down, Tolan had finished wiping down his own ride and was heading back toward the entrance. The guard glanced at Theodynn before turning to look at Rook. He didn't say anything, but the look on his face spoke volumes. Rook stiffened at the smug look, but she wasn't sure what to say to defend herself, since Tolan hadn't even said anything aloud that she could counter. He turned and left the stable, apparently fine with leaving them alone together while Theo was mad at everyone and everything.
Rook pushed off of the post she was leaning against once she could see Theodynn was wrapping up. She held her head high as she headed over to where Theo was replacing a sponge into a bucket of water, which a nearby servant promptly picked up to change out. The Heir's back was to her, and Rook felt Theo stiffen as she wrapped her arms around him from behind.
"Rook..."
"You sure are tense," she murmured. He didn't turn as he pulled her arms off of him.
"Does right now really seem like a good time?" he asked coldly. She moved in front of him, smiling blithely.
"Why wouldn't it be a good time?" she asked as innocently as she could. "After all, you're fine, and we've both already forgotten what happened at the market, right?" He glowered at her without answering, and Rook raised an eyebrow. "Unless you aren't fine, and you're still thinking about what went down earlier today."
"You're impossible," he responded. "Why don't you get lost? We won't be able to investigate today, so—"
"I have a better idea," she cut in, leaning closer as she gave him a wicked smile. "Why don't we do something to take your mind off of everything?"
Theo scoffed, leaning away from her. "You're disgusting."
"What?" Rook asked. In the next moment, she had whipped the Heir's sword out of its sheath, and Theodynn stiffened in surprise as she pointed out at him. "What's disgusting about a little sparring? Unless you thought I was talking about something else." He didn't say anything at first, and Rook pulled the sword back so she could study it. "This is a nice blade," she noted. "Well balanced...no wonder you beat me before." She gave it a few swings and clucked appreciatively. "Where on earth did you get it? Being royalty sure does have its perks, huh?"
Theo went to take it back, but Rook backed up out of his reach as she studied the markings on the blade. The heir seemed unamused. "Give that back before you hurt someone swinging it around in here," he ordered.
"Please—I've been handling sharp objects like this since before you were," she chided.
"I doubt it." The Heir managed to grasp the hilt of the sword, and Rook ran a finger along an insignia inscribed in the metal.
"I've been around the realm, you know...but I've never seen this mark before. Who's the magical blacksmith?"
"Tolan made this for me, a few years back," Theo explained as took the sword away from her and sheathed it.
"Tolan? The sour-faced guard of yours, or a different, more interesting Tolan?"
"He was a blacksmith before he was a fortress guard," Theo explained, giving her a withering look.
"So many secrets," Rook chided. She fished out her long knife, pouting at it. "I must say, your weapons outshine mine. Think he'd make me one that can hold its own against that sword of yours?"
"I doubt it."
"Pity. But at least I know the reason why I lost our first fight. What do you say we have a rematch, but we switch weapons?"
"No."
"Why not? Afraid I'm right and you'll lose miserably?" Rook reached for the hilt of his blade again, but Theo's hand beat her to it.
"I'm more afraid you'll run off with the sword and I'll never see it again."
"I'm shocked you think so little of me," Rook said, though she couldn't help grin. "Tolan would just have to make you a new one, in that case."
"We're not on the best of terms," he pointed out. Rook tilted her head.
"Because he doesn't approve of your current girlfriend? It's because I'm Southern, isn't it?"
"It has nothing to do with you," Theo said quietly, his expression becoming guarded as he turned to head for the stables.
"I'm not sure I believe you," she pointed out as she followed him. "So... you're turning me down on the sparring, then? That's too bad—in my experience, nothing makes you feel better like trying to beat someone's head into the dirt."
"I think my head's taken enough of a beating today," Theo pointed out, and Rook was surprised to see a slight smile on his face. "Maybe another time."
"I'm taking you up on that," she promised as they headed out into the sunshine.
"You ought to go," Theo said again, still not meeting her eye. "I'm sorry we couldn't get much accomplished toward our goal today. Come tomorrow and I'll be ready to go."
"Fine, but listen to me a second, would you?" Rook demanded, speeding up to get in front of him. Theodynn turned and finally met her gaze, and she fixed him with a firm look. "Don't worry about what that stupid girl thinks about you...all right? Whatever those hand-movements said, she was wrong." Rook put her hands on his shoulders, and surprisingly, he didn't pull away, though his expression darkened. Rook smiled a little. "Theodynn...you don't have to worry about what anyone thinks about you. Not her...not bossy Tolan, or the Mountain Man guard, or your parents..."
"Or you?" he challenged. She snorted.
"You've never cared about what I think, so you're already set there." Rook sobered as she leaned in. "You don't have to prove anything, you know? You're already the Heir. You're not working to make a difference, or working to be someone important. You already are, okay? You have been your whole life, so stop treating everything like it's all or nothing. You're in charge, Theo... you're calling the shots. You're going to take down the traders, and set up the orphanages and schools and all the other things you set your mind to. So stop worrying about it all so much."
"Where is this coming from?" he asked, and she wished he would stop being so guarded all the time.
"I've been around the block, kid," she said with a smile. "I've seen lots of Oni...I've seen people try for things, and I know the kinds of people who succeed and the kinds of people who fail. You aren't the person everyone thinks you are. You've got what it takes to go all the way." She moved one hand to brush the bruise on his forehead. "So stop letting the doubters get to you, will ya? You're no fun to be around while you're storming under a raincloud."
He scoffed bitterly, but she could see that he was thinking about what she said. "Thanks," he finally offered, and she grinned.
"What are partners for?" she said, and she managed to get up and kiss him on the cheek before he could stop her. She waited for him to scold her—they were alone, after all, so she doubted he would appreciate her being romantic without an audience to fool. However, Theodynn didn't say anything as he studied her a moment, and Rook could have sworn she felt him touch her braid. However, in the next second, he was turning away.
"I'll see you tomorrow.
50
There was a large tent in the distance, and Teag hoped it would contain the other slaves. With every minute that passed, his internal urgency grew stronger. Find Dee, break free, escape, he reminded himself. Of course, the problem was he wasn't really sure how to escape. Head back into the tunnels and head to the chasm? The problem was that neither he or Dee were strong climbers—they'd never be able to climb the steep walls of Kahyzm's chasm. No way these traders get here by going up and down on ropes, he mused. There has to be another way in and out of this place.
The traders had called this place a ravine, but to Teag, it was more a shallow dip than anything. There were huge mountains on one side of it—the tunnels he had come through came out of the massive walls of foreboding rock. The rest of the area was boxed in by plateaus. The traders must go up and down the plateaus and go all the way around the mountains, he decided. When I get Dee, we'll try going that way.
They reached the large tent at last, and Jod grabbed Teag's shoulder roughly to stop him. The strange-speaking Yotta had tagged along, and he pushed his way into the tent first. After a moment, he opened the door again and nodded at his companion, and Jod shoved Teag into the tent.
The interior was full of fancy furniture, lush cushions, and other gaudy baubles. Teag's stomach soured in disappointment. This wasn't where Dee was, it seemed. "What's this? Only a single new face?" a voice called, and Teag realized there was a large man sitting on large cushion on one end of the tent. The man's hair and beard were close-cut, and he pursed his lips as he plucked dried fruit out of a bowl.
"Imgloss only sent the one," Jod answered.
The opulent man squinted at Teag, and Teag tried to keep his expression lax as the large trader continued. "Did he bring him from the West? I thought I told you all..."
"He's from the East, according to Imgloss," Jod assured.
"Ze boy says he stole his clothes," Yotta answered. The mysterious man ate a few more dried fruits, chewing thoughtfully. Teag couldn't remember what the man's name was, but it was clear from his expensive clothes and the jewelry hanging off of him that he was the one in charge.
"But he would have had to steal them from the West, wouldn't he? So he was there at some point," he mused after swallowing. No one really had an answer for him, and the man waved one hand. "Doesn't really matter. He's here now, I guess. Go stick him with the others."
Jod grabbed Teag's arm, but Yotta cut in before the other trader could drag the fourteen-year-old away. "He says he's a blacksmiz," Yotta offered.
The man in charge glanced back up then, his expression betraying interest. "Blacksmith?"
"He's got a burn on his hand," Yotta affirmed. "Said zat's how he got it—smithing."
"Is that right?" The man leaned forward, and Teag swallowed at the look on his face. "He's awfully quiet. Are you really a blacksmith, kid?"
"No."
The man raised an eyebrow. "So Yotta's lying to me?"
"I worked for a blacksmith," Teag tried, forcing himself not to squirm. "I'm not fully trained."
The man blinked and then laughed. "I didn't think you were a professional," he assured as he pushed himself to his feet. "But you've had some training, then?" Teag wasn't sure what to say, so he kept quiet. The trader leader continued. "Do you know how to make weapons?"
"No." Teag's answer was soft, and he looked down at the ground.
"What can you make?"
"Nothing much," he tried, but Jod prodded him from behind, as if he knew Teag was lying. "Hoofer shoes, and stuff like that," the teen admitted grudgingly.
"Strangely modest," the leader mused. "You know, generally slaves spend their time talking themselves up. The Inner Ring has space for useful people in our ranks, otherwise, you'll go with the rest of the shipment. Prove that you're skilled enough, and you could be part of the family." The man gestured to the rest of the tent. "Better than getting shipped off to who knows where, right?"
Teag tried to keep his hands from shaking. "I don't want any trouble," he muttered. "I'd rather go with everybody else."
"Little idiot," Jod muttered from behind him, but the leader just laughed.
"Who is this kid?" he asked to no one in particular. "What's your name?"
Teag's expression darkened, and he didn't say anything. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. He wasn't special—how could he get them to realize it and put him with Dee and the others?
Teag gasped as Jod grabbed one arm and twisted painfully. "Quazier asked you a question, twerp," the trader hissed.
"It's Teag," he growled, trying to pull away from his captor.
"Nice to meet you," Quazier offered patronizingly. "Jod, get Teag something to eat and then take him to the forge so we can see what he can do."
"I'm no good at it!" Teag promised desperately. "The blacksmith I worked for wouldn't even train me anymore." A lump formed in his throat, but he forced it away. "He kicked me out because I wasn't worth the effort."
"Look, kid...no need to get riled up," Quazier offered. "You've got nothing to lose by being bad at it...but prove you've got a spark of skill, and you'll have a whole lot to gain."
The woman took a drink from the tray, sniffing at it aimlessly. The server walked away, and she turned her attention to the well-dressed guests milling about the museum. It wasn't her first time rubbing elbows with Metallonia's rich and elite, and a few of the patrons recognized her and nodded greeting. She nodded back with a tight smile, but made no move to get up off of her padded chair in one corner where she was content enough to lounge and people watch.
"Ms. O'Keefe...a pleasure zat you vere able to join us tonight," a warm voice said, and she turned to Mr. Rushford.
"I told you I would," she said daintily, finally taking a sip of her drink. "You throw quite the shin-dig, Barnaby."
"Ve hope to impress."
"The drinks could use ice." Matilda looked up to raise an eyebrow through the feathered mask she was wearing, and the museum curator blinked.
"Allow me to call a server to fetch you some."
"No need. I'm not staying long." She rested a chin on her hand as she stared out at the crowd talking lightly on an expensive rug. A feather tickled her nose, and she sighed. She wasn't the only one in a mask, but she was beginning to wish she hadn't chosen feathers, no matter how stunning she looked in her ensemble. "Has my benefactee arrived yet?"
"Ah...do you vish to make yourself known to him tonight, zen?"
"No. I'll talk with him tomorrow...I just wanted to make sure that he was still in Metallonia."
Mr. Rushford furrowed his brow, but then he nodded. "He is here...in fact, I believe zat is him over by ze vall mural."
Matilda arced her neck slightly and caught sight of the stocky young man in a crisp black suit. She smiled, but it faded as she realized that a young woman was hanging onto his arm. "Who's that with him? Has he charmed one of your students so quickly?"
"Uh, no, ze girl came vith him from Ninjago," Mr. Rushford explained. "Ve vere not expecting her, but ve hadn't mentioned on ze invite zat he couldn't bring anyvon, so it seemed rude to exclude her."
"But who is she?"
"Mr. Valker introduced her as his girlfriend," the curator explained. Matilda lifted her mask a moment to get a better look. As the young woman in the charcoal-colored evening gown turned, Matilda realized that she recognized her after all. Mr. Rushford cleared his throat. "Vould you like me to go ask her name? I seem to have forgotten it."
"No. I know her," Matilda said dryly as she replaced her mask. "You may want to keep a close eye on her, though...she's been known to throw eggs with surprising accuracy."
"Um...pardon?"
Matilda rolled her eyes and turned to face Mr. Rushford at last. "The girl was not supposed to be here," she explained irritably. "It complicates a lot of things, you understand?"
"I already informed her zat she vould not be able to attend ze luncheon you have tomorrow vith Mr. Valker."
"Well, that's something." Matilda rubbed at her face. "Any chance you can kick her out of Metallonia before tomorrow afternoon?"
"I...Vell." Mr. Rushford wiped at his brow. "On vat grounds?"
"I'm joking, Barnaby," Matilda said dryly, though deep down, she wasn't. Music had started to play, and she watched as the girl in the charcoal dress pulled her flustered partner into a dance. Ms. O'Keefe took one last sip before handing the half-full glass to the curator. "I should turn in. I just wanted to make an appearance, but I must be going."
"Ve are honored by your presence," the curator stammered, looking lost as he held the glass. "I do vish you could stay for longer."
"Unfortunately, I have to go home and work some new variables into my schedule," she said, her heels clicking on the marble floor as she turned to leave. "It was a pleasure, Barnaby. Just please make sure Mr. Walker arrives at the luncheon on time tomorrow."
Teag sat up against the wall of the forge, hugging his knees. It had grown dark, and his mind raced with plans. His ankle was shackled, but it wouldn't be too difficult to pick the lock with the tools sitting all around him. He would have used his lockpicks, except Tala's fortress guards had confiscated them after his initial arrest.
Break off the shackle, go find the slaves, find Dee...get out of here...
His thoughts circled uselessly, and he buried his face into his knees. It wasn't that he didn't think he could escape the forge, but he didn't know where the other slaves were even being held. How could he find his brother in such a huge place? If only Hershel had taught him to transport. If he knew how to do that, then he just had to escape notice and capture long enough to find Dee, and then he could poof them both out of there. As it was, a feeling of hopelessness was beginning to settle in him.
There was the sound of footsteps, but Teag didn't move. He waited to see what the newcomer would say, but there was only silence. He frowned, but then he cried out as someone grabbed him by his hair and yanked his head up.
"Still haven't started?" Igu snapped. "What are you playing at, boy?"
"I don't want to be a blacksmith!" he shouted back. "Just put me with the others already!"
"You're not doing yourself any favors, you know," the trader snapped. "If Quazier gave you this chance—"
"I didn't ask for this chance!" Teag spat. "I'm not working for him."
"You say that now," Igu grunted, releasing him at last to sneer down at him. "Transport's coming...maybe as soon as tomorrow. Then you'll be begging to get back into his good graces."
Tomorrow? Teag's heart galloped, but he tried to keep calm. "I'm not making anything for some stupid, fat trader," he said, glowering up at the man. He had expected the blow, but not the laughter that came after it. Teag rubbed at his stinging face, unnerved by the trader's sudden amusement.
"You best be careful...you know what Quazier does with stubborn, fiery slaves like you?"
"Gets rid of them?" Teag guessed sullenly. "Sells them as fast as he can?"
"Naw...he keeps them." Igu's eyes glittered in the darkness, and Teag shrank back. "Breaks them in like a wild hoofer...trains them. Then after years and years, he sends them back out into the realm to do his dirty work. Trust me...that road's worse than getting sold to some freakish outsiders...and it's far worse than being a blacksmith in a forge in the inner ring." Teag didn't answer, but he made no move to stand up and get started. Igu smirked. "You got till sunup to do something useful. Getting a full-time gig as Quazier's newest blacksmith isn't the worst thing that could happen to you, kid."
"Just put me with the other slaves," Teag growled.
"It's too late for that—you've already made yourself interesting," Igu accused. "Do yourself a favor, and just do what he wants. He loses interest in sycophants."
Teag felt chills run up his spine, and Igu didn't say anything else as he turned and left.
"DADDY!"
Hershel sat up, blinking in the darkness. He made out his son's silhouette standing on the floor. "Raiyn?"
"Teag..." the child whimpered as he tried to climb into the tall bed. "Daddy help Teag!"
"Teag is asleep right now," Hershel pointed out softly. "You just had a bad dream, Raiyn."
"Help Teag!"
"Bad dream?" Myrah murmured from the other side of the bed, and Hershel sighed.
"We can go see Teag in the morning, Raiyn," the healer promised as he lifted his son into bed.
"Nooooo," Raiyn said. "Now, Daddy."
"It's the middle of the night," Hershel pointed out. "You can sleep here, and we'll go in the morning."
"Now," the child whimpered again, but he sounded drowsy. Myrah reached over to stroke Raiyn's hair sleepily.
"It will be all right," she promised softly, and Raiyn snuggled down between his parents.
"Tent men," he mumbled as his father tucked the blankets over him. "Coming."
Amber stared glumly at her phone. Nearby, machinery sparked as Julien worked to solder pieces together.
"Would it be weird to call his father?" Amber started, but as soon as the words left her mouth, she shuddered. "Nevermind. They'd both think I was crazy."
"Your friend still has not gotten back to you?" Julien guessed.
"Not even a text. I don't know...this really isn't like him. I would have thought he'd at least have let me know he made it back safe." Amber's stomach churned. "I should have just told him he could stay."
"Perhaps he just needs a few days to think over your conversation."
"I guess." Amber sighed. A picture lit up her screen, and she couldn't help but smile. "At least Dani and Colby are having fun."
Julien looked up and lifted the goggles he was wearing for protection, and Amber turned her phone so he could see the photo Dani had just sent. It was a selfie of Colby and Dani posing in fancy attire in front of a large mural.
The scientist smiled softly. "I am glad he seems to be gaining confidence," Julien confided before lowering his goggles. "Growing up, Colby was always doing his own thing...but I have gotten to know him better in recent years." He picked up a small screwdriver and began screwing circuits into place. "Last year, he contacted me for help with one of his art projects—he was building an abstract sculpture and wanted moving parts. As we worked on it, we realized we had more in common than we thought."
"Like what?" Amber asked, slipping her phone into her pocket.
"We both enjoy extended quiet time to think...and we both dread having his sisters' noses in our business." Julien smiled wryly, but then his smile faded. "We both feel a little...out of place in our family dynamic."
Amber frowned. She knew from conversations with Colby and Dani that the youngest Walker felt disconnected from his family, but she had never talked much with Julien. "You feel out of place?"
"Perhaps out of place is the wrong way to phrase it." Julien finished screwing together circuits and studied the machinery. "I am obviously fond of my parents, but I am human, and they are androids. There are always going to be differences between us, no matter how fond we are of each other."
"All families are different from each other...whether adoption is involved or not," Amber offered. "I mean, everyone in my family looks completely different from each other."
"That is true—diversity is an expected constant in any group, and I suppose finding one's place in the world is a universal struggle. That is why I am glad Colby took up this art institution on their offer. I feel that I am closer to finding my own place here at the MIRI...perhaps he will find his at the RIFA."
"Dani says he's been a bundle of nerves ever since they arrived, but he's slowly finding his feet."
"That girl has been good for his anxiety," Julien mused. He finally pushed his project away from him, apparently content to be done for the night. He removed his glasses to rub at his eyes before pulling out his phone. Amber watched as the scientist looked through his messages, his brow furrowed.
"Have you heard from Agatha?" she asked. Julien's girlfriend had promised to check in after talking with Zerek, but that morning she had texted Julien and told him she was going to look into a few other mines and then hadn't checked in since.
"She texted a little while ago, saying she was able to dig up a lead on the other side of Metallonia," Julien said. "She hopes to have results in a day or two."
"It's strange she didn't invite us along," Amber noted. She knew that Julien was more concerned than he was trying to let on—she could sense it.
The scientist looked up and finally put his phone back in his pocket. "She said she knew we would be busy with my project."
"We could have spared a day—I definitely could have."
Julien rubbed his neck. "It is strange," he admitted at last. "But sometimes Agatha hyper focuses on her research, forgetting other things. She said she will try to call tomorrow."
Amber couldn't help but check her own phone again, but there were still no messages from her own absent friend.
51
Colby brushed back his hair again, but it flopped back down into his face two seconds later. He chewed his lip, feeling frustrated. Maybe he should have gotten a haircut yesterday while they were out shopping.
"Leave it. You look good, Walker." Dani appeared in the doorway of the bathroom, offering him a tired smile. Her hair was still disheveled, and he looked over.
"Did you sleep okay?" he asked.
"Sure, I was fine," she assured as she stretched. Colby shook his head.
"We should have looked into getting another room. Maybe they were full on the first night, but they could have had openings on these other ones."
"And ruin all the fun?" Dani teased. She came in and tugged at his tie, loosening it. "You don't need to have this on so tight—you'll choke yourself."
"I just want to make a good first impression," Colby admitted, taking in his reflection. Besides his floppy hair, he decided he looked okay. He was dressed in the suit that Dani had bought him the day before—that he insisted he would pay her back for and she insisted she wouldn't take his money.
"You already made a good first impression," Dani pointed out. "If they're willing to pay for all of these things for you, then they've got to be familiar with who you are and your artwork. All you're doing today is meeting with them so you can say thank you."
"But what if they realize they've made some kind of mistake after they meet me?"'
"They've probably already met you at some point," Dani mused.
"Where?"
"I don't know...maybe they're one of your old teachers? Or a judge from one of the competitions you've applied for."
"Maybe." Colby picked at a loose thread. "I just don't really know what I've done to deserve any of this."
"You're an amazing, empathetic person with a knack for abstract art," Dani assured as she turned him away from the mirror so she could smile at him. "You don't have to be anything more than that to deserve this."
Colby looked up to smile at her. "I wish you could come with me," he admitted. She laughed and slugged him lightly on the shoulder.
"You don't need me, Walker. You'll be fine—just be your kind, authentic self. I'll be waiting for you after the meeting gets out, and we'll go out to a fancy dinner to celebrate."
"But I'll have just had lunch," he pointed out.
"Then we'll go paint the town red! The point is, go rub elbows and then you and I can go let loose."
"All right." Colby checked his watch again and took a deep breath. "I should probably leave soon so I can get there on time."
"Don't forget to breathe," Dani teased as she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "And please remember that this isn't life and death, Colby. You're going to go in, talk to some nice person who thinks you're talented, and eat an overpriced lunch. Nothing bad is going to happen."
Colby chuckled nervously. "Promise?" he joked.
"Promise."
Hershel stepped into the forge, scanning it quickly. He frowned when he realized that Veneik was the only one in the smokey room. The blacksmith looked up as Hershel came further in, and the large man gave a courteous nod.
"Master Hershel," he said respectfully. "What brings you to the forge?"
"No need to add the title," Hershel reminded with a tight smile. "I was looking for Teag—I assumed he was here, since I couldn't find him in the servant's quarters."
"Teag?" the blacksmith frowned as he took his cooling project and stuck it back into the furnace. "It's been a few days since I saw the kid, actually."
Hershel's smile faded. "What do you mean? When was the last time you saw him?"
Veneik blew out his lips thoughtfully. "I dunno... two days ago? Maybe three? He had been coming consistently before then, but now he's stopped completely."
"You haven't seen him in all that time, and you didn't come tell me?" Hershel's stomach was twisting with foreboding, and Veneik's expression clouded.
"It's only been a few days. I thought maybe he was sick or something." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "He's not actually my apprentice, or anything. He's not legally required to show up to work. I didn't think I was required to keep track of him."
Hershel didn't answer, lost to his own thoughts. When was the last time he had seen Teag? It had been a busy week, with training Pippa and making sure the villages were getting visits from their assigned traveling healers. His mind latched onto a conversation—the last one he had had with Teag, quite a few days ago.
Hershel... I know that sometimes it seems like I'm not grateful for everything you've done for me...but I am.
"Are you all right?" Veneik asked, stepping forward in concern. "You look—"
"I have to go," Hershel glanced up. "Please let me know if Teag shows up at the forge." He didn't even wait for an answer as he headed back to the fortress. He walked quickly through the hallways until he reached his and Myrah's private quarters. His wife looked up from her desk as he entered.
"Did you talk to Teag?" she asked. "Raiyn's been asking about him non-stop since—"
"He's gone." The confession came out quietly, and Hershel wiped at his face. "I don't even know when he left, but I'm guessing it was a few days ago, after he learned that we wouldn't be able to help his brother."
Myrah looked surprised. "I thought you said he took that news well?"
"Too well. I should have realized." Hershel made it over to where his satchel was hanging on the wall. "He wasn't thanking me because he wanted me to know he understood. He was saying goodbye."
"But where would he have gone?"
"I don't know." Hershel's expression crumpled. "I'm hoping he retreated to the Hidden Village—that's where he's run away to before."
"He could have gone to the East," Myrah pointed out.
"I'm going to check the Order of Echo and Antirock first," Hershel said decidedly. "If they haven't seen him, then I'll check the East next."
"Hershel." Myrah grabbed his arm. "I know you care about Teag...but if he doesn't want to be found..."
"It's too dangerous out there," Hershel argued. "Myrah, I have to find him before someone else does. If it's discovered that he's powered..."
"You trained him to take care of himself. That was the point of training him, wasn't it? So he would be able to go off on his own when he felt ready."
"He'll never be ready!" Hershel snapped. Myrah blinked, and the healer winced in apology. "Myrah...no one can ever be ready for the horrible people out there who use and abuse others. I swore to myself that I wouldn't let anything happen to these powered kids, and now—"
"You can only do so much," his wife insisted, but then she released him. Hershel watched as she moved to put on her shoes.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm coming with you to look for him."
"But you've got meetings..."
"I'll reschedule them. I want to help you...and I need to make sure that you don't run off to scour the realm without protection." Myrah pulled on her other shoe, and turned to call into the smaller room connected to their bedroom. "Raiyn!" The young boy toddled back into the room, still looking miserable. His mother bent down to scoop him up. "We're going to try to find Teag. You'll stay with Auntie Syn today, all right?"
"Teag scared," Raiyn said solemnly, and his father reached out to push the child's bed-mussed hair out of his face.
"We're going to go look for him," he promised. "With any luck, we'll be bringing him home in a few hours." Myrah didn't say anything, but Hershel noticed the glimmer of doubt cross her face. "I have to find him," he told her, and she looked up to meet his eye.
"I know."
Colby looked down at the address one last time and then up at the building. When they had told him it was a luncheon, he expected it to be in a restaurant. The building in front of him looked more like a fancy hotel or business building. He wasn't really sure what it was. After hesitating a moment longer, he took a deep breath and headed up to the doormen.
"I have an appointment?" he tried, holding out the card. "Though, I'm not sure I'm in the right place."
One of the doormen took the card and scanned it. "You're in the right place—she's expecting you," he replied, handing the card back. "You'll go to the elevators on the right and take it up to the third floor. The luncheon is being held in conference room eleven."
"Oh, okay. Thanks."
The other doorman had already pulled open the fancy doors, and Colby nodded his thanks as he headed into the building. He followed the directions he had been given and pushed the up arrow on the bronze elevator. He tapped his leg with his fingers as he waited for the elevator to descend.
It's just a lunch. It's just a lunch. It's just a lunch. You don't have to agree to anything, or decide anything right now. You're just meeting some rich person who thinks you're a good artist. You can do this.
He could hear rattling in the walls—do doubt coming from the water pipes—and he closed his eyes.
Dani will be here right when it gets over, he reminded himself. Don't freak out and flood the place. Just keep breathing, and find your flow.
By the time the doors dinged open, Colby had relaxed and the walls stopped vibrating. He stepped into the empty elevator and selected the third floor, humming along with the elevator music as it lifted him. The bronze doors opened on a classy hallway with charcoal carpet and abstract paintings hung on the wall. Colby stopped to admire a few, but then he continued on his way. He passed conference rooms on either side, but they were all empty. Is this a business, then? With all these conference rooms...
Colby had been worried about finding room eleven, but when it was the only door flanked by massive bodyguards, it was a lot easier to find than he thought it would be. He tugged his tie one last time before moving to approach the bodyguards. They both had sunglasses and earpieces, and Colby swallowed. Who on earth would need this kind of protection?
"Hello," he offered timidly. "I...um. I have..."
"Mr. Valker. She is expecting you," one of the bodyguards said dryly.
"Oh. So I've heard." Colby took a deep breath, and the bodyguard pushed on his earpiece.
"Your appointment is here, Ma'am," the large Metallonian murmured, and then seemed to be listening for a response. "Ve'll send him in right away."
Colby kept his head held high as he waited for them to pull the doors open. That was the last piece of advice Dani had given him before he had left—stand up straight and think confident thoughts. Once the doors were open, he took a deep breath and walked into the room. It was pretty sparse—there was a large table in dark wood, with a few business-like chairs scattered around. For a moment, Colby thought the room was empty, but then he realized that there was a comfortable swivel chair facing the large window across from him. His benefactor had her back to him, but Colby could make out a fashionable hat and bright red high heels.
He stood for a minute in silence, not sure what to say. She had to know he was standing right here, right? The doors clicked closed behind him, and he finally cleared his throat.
"Mr. Walker?" the woman guessed, sounding amused. Colby furrowed his brow as he realized that she did sound familiar, but he couldn't place the voice.
"Y-yes," he stammered. After a moment, he quickly added. "Ma'am."
The woman chuckled softly, and the chair finally turned. For a moment, Colby didn't recognize her...but as the woman sneered at him and clicked her long fingernails on the arm of her chair, Colby's blood turned to ice. "Well, well," Matilda O'Keefe murmured, looking him up and down. "If it isn't my favorite little delinquent."
"This is from the Era of the Red Ships...no wait, don't tell me. The Era of the Blue Ships." Dani was enjoying herself at the Art Museum, pestering Misha as she took in all the art in the different wings. The intern had been less than pleased when Dani had shown up and asked if she could look around while she waited for Colby, but Misha hadn't turned her away.
"Zere vas no Era of Blue Ships," the intern said dryly where she was dusting the frame of a painting further down.
"But these ships are all blue in the painting."
"Because it is night. Artistic rendering, and shading..."
"If the ships were red, shouldn't they be more purply in the night?"
Misha sighed. "I don't get paid enough to deal vith this," she growled as she moved on to a ceramic vase.
"Just put up with me for another hour, and I'll be out of your hair," Dani promised as she admired a bunch of tiny figurines made of glass. "At least, I hope Colby's lunch will be over by then. I don't know why it would need to be longer."
"Zat boy," Misha muttered under her breath.
"I hope whoever his benefactor is, they're nice to him. I know how rich people can be." Dani resisted the urge to pick up one of the tiny green figures, knowing that Misha would probably kick her out if she did. "He's been nervous about this meeting all week."
"He should be nervous," Misha huffed as she moved on to the next piece of art. "Ms. O'Keefe is both particular and hard to please. Your boyfriend will need to vatch his step."
Dani's hand froze enroute to the figurines. "Wait...what did you say?"
"I'm not trying to be rude. He vill have to vatch himself to make sure his manners—"
"No...who did you say he's meeting with?" Dani looked up, and the auburn-haired intern frowned thoughtfully.
"Oh, zat's right. Mr. Rushford didn't tell you who ze benefactor vas." For a moment, she looked nervous, but then she shook it off. "Your boyfriend knows who she is now, so surely zere is no harm in me telling you. She just vanted to—"
"Who?" Dani demanded, and Misha's expression pinched with displeasure.
"Matilda O'Keefe," she said, as if it should have been obvious. "Colby Valker's benefactor...ze person responsible for his internship and his acceptance at ze RIFA."
"Matilda O'Keefe?" Dani repeated numbly. "As in... as in the criminal Matilda O'Keefe?"
"She's no criminal," Misha said with a glower. "I have heard she does not have ze best reputation in Ninjago, but here in Metallonia, she has been a huge supporter of ze arts and sciences. Around here, she is far more hero zan villain, no matter vat you small-minded Ninjagoans think."
Dani felt like the world was spinning, and she nearly staggered right into the pedestal holding the delicate figurines. Misha lurched forward.
"Careful!" she snapped. "Vat is wrong vith you? Are you dehydrated?"
"Why would Matilda do this?" Dani asked at last, though she wasn't technically asking Misha. The intern scoffed and answered anyway.
"I overheard Mr. Rushford say zat Matilda sees a lot of potential in your boyfriend. Vat potential, I cannot tell, but—"
"She hates him!" Dani argued, taking a step back. "She hates all of them...she has to. After what they did..."
"Vat are you going on about now?"
"I have to go," Dani said, leaving the puzzled intern to her dusting as she bolted for the front door.
"What?" The word escaped, but it almost felt like he wasn't even the one talking. Colby hadn't realized he was backing up until his back hit the doors behind him, and Matilda tutted.
"Are you all right?" she asked with false concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I...this can't..." Colby's mind blared with a billion warnings, and he could hear the pipes in the walls groaning. He was humiliated when his shock was replaced with a violation that brought tears to his eyes. "Why?" he managed at last.
"Why what?" Matilda seemed unconcerned as she stood.
"This has to be a nightmare," Colby mumbled. "Or...or a sick joke..." His throat tightened—the internship, the scholarship...if it was from Matilda, then it was all a lie. Some sort of twisted revenge. The thought made him want to cry, and he was only barely able to curb himself from breaking down completely.
"How rude," Matilda clucked as she walked over to a smaller table pushed up against the wall. Colby hadn't noticed the second table until now, and he was surprised to see that it was covered in trays of food. "I invest heavily to support your future and invite you to lunch...and this is how you act. Saying it's a nightmare. Now, are you going to come get some food? It's catered by the finest restaurant in town...which isn't really saying much, but still." You turned to look him up and down again. "You look like you enjoy eating."
Colby grabbed the doorknob behind him, turning it desperately. His heart fell as he realized it was locked, and he tried twisting it harder.
"It's locked, Colby." Matilda's voice had lost its false sweetness, settling on a bored tone. "You might as well come enjoy lunch." Rather than oblige, Colby began pounding on the thick, frosted glass. Matilda turned to frown at him. "They aren't going to open the door."
"Let me out!" he demanded, whirling on her. "I didn't agree to this!"
"You literally did," she argued. "You were invited to a luncheon with your benefactor, and you came. The least you could do is stay for a little conversation."
"You're not my benefactor," he pointed out darkly. He stopped pounding, but panic was making it hard for him to think. He stayed pinned against the doors as he glowered at the woman helping herself to a plate full of salad.
"Of course I am. Now, this chicken is getting cold..."
"I'm not eating anything you brought."
She laughed then. "What, do you think I'd poison you or something?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "I wouldn't put it past you."
"I'll remind you that I am not a criminal," she tsked. "Despite what you and your friends tried to paint me out as."
"You locked Theo up and burned down your own company with him inside."
"No need to throw around false accusations," she snapped. "I don't remember ever being charged with kidnapping or arson."
"What do you want?" Colby demanded. His voice and hands were shaking, and he was furious with himself. He wanted to be able to stand up against her, but all he could do was shake like a leaf in the corner of the room.
"I want you to feel comfortable enough to eat. This lunch wasn't cheap, you know."
"Is it revenge? You're trying to get back at me by lying about some internship...getting my hopes up and then—"
"The internship is real, you foolish boy." Matilda left the table, her heels clicking on the wooden floor as she made her way to her seat. "As is the scholarship. No one has lied to you about anything."
"That doesn't make any sense," Colby pointed out. "Why would you ever support me, or my art? You've never even seen any of it."
"That's not true," Matilda countered as she began to eat her salad. She looked thinner than the last time Colby had seen her, and her hair was longer, and no longer quite as platinum blonde. "The first painting you ever made public was on the side of my company, remember? I mean, it was blatantly derogatory, but there was skill there. I've seen other pieces of yours since then. Despite what people may tell you, you're not an awful artist."
"What are you really doing?" Colby demanded. "What's the catch?"
"Goodness, do you have these trust issues with everyone, or just me?" Matilda tsked. Colby clenched his fists, and the pipes in the walls groaned louder than ever. The blonde woman lifted one perfect eyebrow. "Careful, Mr. Walker. I had to pay enough for this conference room without you flooding the place." Something about the way she said it made chills run up his back. She must have seen it on his face because she scoffed as she stabbed at more lettuce. "Yes...I know about your little...elemental upgrade. And as long as we're talking about the catch..."
"This is about my powers?" Somehow, that was the knife that dug deeper than everything else. Colby felt the blood drain from his face, and Matilda tutted again.
"Honestly, you should eat something. You look terrible."
"What about my powers?" he demanded, and the creaking grew louder as well. "What do you want?"
"I don't want anything. I suppose I should make that clear." Matilda finished her salad and put her plate off to one side on the table. "Not revenge, or control over you, or anything like that."
"Liar."
"I'm not lying," Matilda assured. Her tone was amused, but her gaze was frosty. "The internship and the scholarship are directly funded by me...but the catch is you must be willing to participate in a little...research with a friend of mine. He's a scientist who wants to study your powers more closely."
"No."
"Honestly, Colby," Matilda tutted. "It would take a few days of your time, is all. A bit of research, and in return, you'd have your whole future laid out for you."
"A future you funded! I don't want that!"
"I know you're an emotional person, so I need you to take a deep breath and think about this logically," Matilda said patronizingly as she leaned forward. "You have a C average in school right now, no other internships lining up for you...and no stable future on the horizon. You want to be an artist, right? I shouldn't have to tell you what a complicated and competitive field that is...how hard it is to make a living." Colby didn't respond, and Matilda smiled. "I know what it's like to have everything stacked against you, you know. Especially family."
"Shut up."
"Wouldn't it be nice to prove to them that you've got what it takes?" Matilda raised an eyebrow. "To show your parents that you aren't the screw-up they think you are...to stick it to those dreadful sisters of yours." Matilda shuddered. "That you had to put up with them alone for the last eighteen years..."
"I said, shut up!" Colby shouted. There was a large pop from somewhere, and Colby realized that a pipe had probably burst at last. The woman in the chair just sighed.
"Well, that sounded expensive," she mused, though she didn't really seem to care. "Is this what you'd rather do with your life? Spend your time afraid of fountains and fire hydrants? Graduate high school with sub-par grades and try to eke out a living on your talent alone, while trying to control some weird, unnatural part of yourself?"
Colby's face was burning, and he wished that he could get his emotions under control. He wished desperately that he could be like Amber, who was so cool under pressure...or Julien, who could have come up with logical arguments to calmly rival Matilda's. He wished he was like Dani, who would never be caught on the verge of tears in front of such a bully.
"I would rather do that than go to some fancy, snobbish school on your dime," he said at last, his voice breaking. "I would rather be a failed artist than to have to pretend that I had talent when in reality I'd only be at the RIFA because some psychopath needed something from me."
Matilda's gaze hardened. "Be careful who you call a psychopath, Colby."
"Let me out of this room right now." His fists were clenched so hard they were shaking. "Let me out, or I'll call the police."
"Your phone won't get any signal." Matilda shrugged, and something about her demeanor changed. She stood as she stared him down coldly. "I really wish we could have done this the easy way, Mr. Walker."
Colby's breathing became more labored as anxiety coursed through him. The problem with anxiety, however, was it made it hard to think and act. He felt frozen to the ground as Matilda approached him.
"My friend—the scientist I mentioned? He's rather desperate for that research, I'm afraid. So you're going to accompany me to his lab this afternoon."
"I'm not going anywhere with you," Colby snapped.
"You are." Matilda's tone sounded final. "Whether you want to or not."
"What are you going to do?" he demanded, though his voice shook. "Use your goons to drag me out of the building? I'll scream...you'll have to knock me out to keep me quiet, and people are going to notice if you carry me out unconscious. They'll call the police."
"I have more friends here than you realize," Matilda countered, and Colby's panic was making him want to vomit. "However, that won't be necessary. You and I are going to walk down to my limo, calmly and discreetly."
"Don't bet on it," Colby growled.
Matilda smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "You'll do as your told, or I'm going to have to get other people involved."
"What other people? More goons?"
"Not on my side. On yours." Matilda pulled out her phone, flicking through it until she found what she was looking for. She turned the phone around, and Colby's eyes widened in horror.
"Leave Dani out of this!" he yelled, and Matilda laughed.
"That's right...that's her name. What a happy, delinquent couple...where did you meet? In the police station after vandalizing my company?" Matilda smiled down at the picture of Colby and Dani from the ball the previous night. "I would hate to get your girlfriend involved in all of this...just seems a little unfair, doesn't it? After all, she has nothing to do with your powers."
"If you touch her..." Colby started vehemently.
"I won't lay a finger on her," Matilda promised. "But your sisters aren't the only one who can ruin someone without touching them at all."
"What are you—"
"An unfortunate arrest in Metallonia would be terrible for her reputation, wouldn't it? It would probably make it hard for her to get into school, or get a job. I hope she doesn't want a career that would require a clean criminal record."
"Arrest her for what? You don't have anything to arrest her for!"
"That's the beauty of it, Mr. Walker. Have enough money and influence, and you don't really need evidence. Especially in this country, I've found."
"You're bluffing," Colby accused. The tears were leaking out now, and he couldn't do anything to stop them.
"I'm not," Matilda promised. "You'll get to that lab one way or another, Colby. The question is, are you going to make me involve your passionate little egg-thrower?" Her eyes were icy as she smiled at him. "It's all up to you."