It was all falling into place, slotting together like pieces of a puzzle. Queen Brisha was too wrapped up in her love for Bashrik to realize she was being manipulated. And, while I felt bad about playing with her feelings, there was more at stake than a broken heart… or two. My planet was counting on me, and I wouldn’t let them down, even if it meant breaking a few regal eggs.
Chapter Twelve
“We’d better hope Yorrek does come,” Navan murmured as we stood in one of the small annex rooms that looked out over the gardens. It had been three days since my bathroom visit with the queen, and preparations were well underway for the garden party, with coldbloods running around like headless chickens, carrying crates of lights and boxes of glittering decorations. The national holiday had been announced the morning after I’d spoken with Queen Brisha, to a truly joyful reception from her people, and now the day had come.
In the streets, brightly colored ornaments were being strung up, and lanterns hung from every available space. Once darkness fell, it would look beautiful. Even now, it looked like something out of a fairytale, with Vysantheans rushing around, calling to one another, smiling broadly. Musicians set up in the squares that connected streets together. Everyone seemed happy, and part of me wished I could be out there among the common folk, enjoying the evening without a care in the world.
Instead, the group of us had been asked to attend the queen’s private garden party, where the alchemists had all been invited as honored guests. A high table had been arranged at the end of one of the sprawling, deep green lawns, where they would be required to sit for speeches and drinks. It was this table that my eyes were set on as I gazed from the annex window.
“There’s no way he’ll refuse her invite,” I replied. “If he does, he could lose his job, and I think that scares him more than any potential stalker.”
Navan nodded. “Do you think he might be right?” he asked after a moment, his eyes trailing a skinny young coldblood as he tripped with a box of lights. “About someone stalking him?”
I shrugged. “I’ve got no idea. From what Bashrik and Angie have been saying, he’s a bit of a kook, but there must be a reason he’s barricaded himself inside like that.”
“And you’re absolutely positive Queen Brisha has invited him here?” Navan pressed, his brow furrowed.
I nodded. “She caught me in the corridor yesterday, and I asked if she’d invited all the alchemists. She said yes. I can only assume that means Yorrek, too. He’s one of her best. There’s no way he won’t come,” I reassured him, though I didn’t feel as confident as I sounded. I knew there was a chance Yorrek could stay in his fort, refusing to come out, even if it cost him his job.
“I hope you’re right,” Navan said.
“Me too.” I grimaced. “Can we go over the plan again, one more time?” I asked, trying to recall every point we’d discussed the night before, in the sanctuary of Angie and Lauren’s chambers. The others hadn’t been entirely happy about what I’d done—Bashrik had nearly torn out his own hair—but they understood the reason. At least, I hoped they did. Angie, at least, had spoken to me over breakfast, which I had taken as a good sign.
“Bashrik is going to distract the queen with his smooth moves, though Rask knows what they are, while Lauren keeps a lookout for anyone who might be after Yorrek. The last thing we want is someone else snatching him while we’re trying to,” Navan said wryly, making me chuckle. “Then we’re going to separate Yorrek from the herd, and get him to follow us into this room, where Angie will be waiting to tie him up. I’ll administer the hypnosis serum, and we’ll ask him questions until we get the intel we need. After that, we erase his memory with the Elysium I so valiantly pilfered from the military surgery ward, and it’s a job well done, all around,” he concluded dramatically, cupping his hands over his mouth to make the sound of hushed applause.
“It sounds so easy when you put it like that,” I murmured, staring out into the gardens. We were only one floor up, but nobody could see us here, though we could see everything going on below.
Navan grinned. “It will be easy. What could possibly go wrong?”
“You had to say it, didn’t you?” I muttered. He put his arms around me, leaning his forehead against mine.
“Nothing like a bit of overconfidence,” he said.
“Yeah, until it gets us killed,” I said, only half joking. “And you’re sure the hypnosis serum is finished? You cooked it all up?”
He chuckled, raising his brows with irreverence. “‘Cooked it all up?’”
“Well, I don’t know how you make a potion, smartass,” I said, nudging him in the stomach. “I presume there’s some cookery involved?”
“It’s more like being a mad professor,” he explained. “But yes, you can rest assured that the serum is all finished. It’s a good one too, by the looks of it. Bashrik almost started spilling every secret he’s ever had with just a whiff of the stuff.”
I nodded, taking a deep breath. “I suppose we’d better get moving,” I said reluctantly, unfurling myself from his arms.
“Can I see the dress Queen Brisha sent up for you?” Navan asked with a wink.
“I haven’t even seen it yet. You’ll see it at the party,” I said, pouting playfully. We exited the annex room, locking it behind us with the key Navan had stolen, before heading upstairs to our rooms.
We parted ways in the elevator, as I stepped off at the floor with Angie and Lauren’s apartment on it, while he went on up to our chambers, where Bashrik was meeting him, so they could get suited and booted.
I was eager to see my friends again, especially with such an exciting night ahead. It would also be stressful and downright nerve-racking, yes, but I couldn’t remember the last time we’d all gotten dressed up to go out together, and I figured we should all try to enjoy it as much as we could. In Vysanthe, we had to take advantage of every bit of levity we could find. We’d go crazy with the pressure we were all under, otherwise.
I rapped at the door. A moment later, I heard rustling in the apartment as somebody approached. Angie opened it with gusto, ushering me in and handing me a glass flute filled with something pale and sparkling.
I sniffed it warily.
“Relax, it’s not alcoholic,” Angie chuckled, taking a sip of her own. Still dubious, I did the same, soon realizing that she was telling the truth. It was a sweet, sparkling drink, but I couldn’t taste any hint of alcohol.
“Have your dresses arrived?” I asked, moving to the walk-in wardrobe where Lauren was waiting, her mouth hanging open as she gazed in wonderment at the gown with her name attached. It was an unusual amethyst shade that perfectly complemented her brown eyes and coffee-colored hair. On the counter beside it were two boxes. One contained a stunning necklace with a central teardrop diamond as long as my pinky finger. Tiny amethysts surrounded the teardrop, highlighting the vivid tone of the gown. There was a matching bracelet to go with it, though these diamonds were circular, with a single amethyst in the center of each one.
“Lauren, that is stunning!” Angie gushed, as Lauren continued to stare. I grinned, knowing she would look beautiful, especially as the color of the gown made her glasses look like the perfect accompaniment. Tucked away below the gown was a matching pair of shoes, glittering as though they were crafted from solid crystal.
“Which one’s yours?” I asked Angie as she moved into the wardrobe.
A tag with her name had been placed above a beautiful aquamarine gown. In a box beside it, there was an exquisite diamond necklace in the same style as Lauren’s, with surrounding gems of blue topaz and aquamarine. Instead of a bracelet, she had a matching ring, with the matching shoes tucked away in a box underneath.
“You’re going to look so beautiful, Angie,” I said, and Lauren nodded in agreement, still speechless from the sight of her gown.
“What about yours, Riley?” Angie wondered, a thrilled grin on her face, as we moved over to mine. It had been zipped up in a protective case. As I slowly undid
the zipper and pulled away the case, I understood why. In front of me was the most gorgeous dress I had ever seen in my entire life.
It was made of a fine, gauzy material, in a sort of blushing, dusky golden tone, the whole stretch of fabric glittering with tiny diamonds. A train flowed downward, intertwined with thin strands of rose gold. It looked like the wings of a butterfly, so fragile and delicate, yet holding a remarkable beauty. In the box beside it was an elegant necklace, with one large, oval-cut diamond in the center, and smaller ovals running all the way up to the clasp. In a second box lay a ring with a huge yellow diamond in the center, and a bracelet of oval diamonds, just like the necklace. Glittering shoes sat in a box below, sparkling like they belonged to Cinderella.
Angie whistled. “Never mind Brisha—you’re going to look like the queen!”
I blushed. “Eh… You guys are going to look prettier.” I pulled Lauren’s dress down from the rail. “Now, I say we crack open another bottle of that sparkling stuff, and we get ready like it’s the end of senior year!”
We brought the dresses and accessories into the main living space. Angie did the honors with the bottle of sweet, fizzy stuff, while Lauren undressed and stepped into the stunning amethyst gown. With my help, we shimmied it up onto her shoulders, and I set to work fastening all the buttons that went up the back. Somehow, it fitted as though it was custom made for her, though nobody remembered anyone coming to take our measurements.
“Lauren, you look incredible,” I said as I took in the sight of my beautiful friend. She looked so slender and sophisticated in the gown, the straps thin on her shoulders, the neckline flatteringly cut, the waist hugging her slim frame.
Darting back into the walk-in wardrobe, I grabbed the full-length mirror and staggered to the living room with it, placing it against the wall so Lauren could look at herself. Even she gaped as she took in her reflection, turning this way and that, smoothing down the silky fabric.
“Hey, I found these!” Angie called as she reentered the room, clutching an armful of peculiar-looking objects, then freezing as she saw Lauren. “Holy crap, Lauren, you look like a movie star!”
“What are those?” I asked as Angie crossed the room, dumping the peculiar objects on the sofa.
“There was a note that said, ‘Use these for your hair and face’, so I’m guessing that’s what they’re for.” Angie shrugged, picking up a strange, helmet-looking device and placing it on her head.
Lauren smiled. “Ah, so that’s what she wanted me to write that for,” she said.
Too engrossed in the device to listen to Lauren, Angie pressed a button on the side of the peculiar helmet. The whole thing lit up yellow for a moment, before fading to black. “Get this thing off my head!” she shouted, suddenly panicking.
“Hold on, hold on!” I grabbed the sides of the helmet and lifted it up, my eyes widening in surprise at the sight beneath.
“What is it? Is it awful? Oh God, tell it to me quick,” Angie said.
I grinned. “Go look in the mirror.”
She hurried across to it and took in her reflection, seeing the stylish up-do the machine had done with her natural curls. It had softened them slightly, making an elegant chignon with the length, so that everything was neatly and beautifully tucked away.
“Where has this thing been all my life?” she muttered.
We settled into our routine of getting ready, throwing devices to each other, and helping one another with buttons and clasps and ribbons. Angie discovered devices in the pile that could apply perfect makeup. All you had to do was flick through and pick a look, and it would put it on your face, just as requested.
My dress was the trickiest to put on, with a series of buttons up the back and ribbons dotting the sides and front, which needed to be tied shut, so I didn’t end up flashing something I didn’t intend to. It took both Lauren and Angie to get it fastened.
“Do you feel like you’re getting ready for prom?” Angie asked.
“Yeah, I feel like Freddy Mercer should be coming to my door any minute, to stand awkwardly in the hall, while Roger goes full Spanish Inquisition mode. Poor guy.” I laughed, remembering his ill-fitting tux and slicked-back hair, and our nervous slow-dancing.
“Hey, at least it wasn’t Michael Russo, who seemed to think I’d given him permission to run his snaky little hands all over me,” Angie said, shuddering dramatically. “I had to shower, like, twenty times after the prom, to get the grossness off.”
“My date wasn’t so bad,” Lauren chimed in, a wistful look on her face.
I smiled warmly. “Ah yes, Seamus Barton, the love of Lauren’s life.”
Angie grinned licentiously. “You guys kissed for the first time, didn’t you, that night?”
Lauren rolled her eyes. “Yeah. I liked him. Still do,” she admitted. “We met up just before we all went to Texas, and we talked about making it work while I was at Stanford, but with him at NYU, we both realized there wasn’t much point. I think about him sometimes, though… wonder what he’s up to and stuff. He was supposed to be going to Europe with his brother and his brother’s wife, so I guess he’s probably still there, seeing the Eiffel Tower or something.” She sighed. “I can’t even remember how long we’ve been gone. Do you think our parents are worrying right now?”
It was something I’d been thinking about a lot. We’d long since passed the date we were supposed to be back from our summer excursion, and we still had no foreseeable way of returning home. That moment had come and gone—our faces would likely be all over the late-night news on Earth. We’d be the three girls who disappeared one day and never came home. It hurt like hell to think Jean and Roger were out there grieving over me because I ran off and never came back. No matter how tempting the opportunities might be, we had to find a way off this planet, before we lost ourselves in these new lives. We owed our parents that.
“You didn’t tell us you’d seen Seamus before we left,” I murmured, changing the subject.
She shrugged. “I didn’t tell you guys about it because… Well, I was upset, and I didn’t want to ruin our last month together. Plus, it didn’t matter anyway; nothing was ever going to come of it. Especially not now.”
“I guess things have taken a bit of a detour, haven’t they?” I said, flashing an apologetic glance at my two friends. “I mean, you were heading to Stanford, I was supposed to be off to Michigan, and Angie was going to Paris. Now look at us.”
Lauren smiled, her mood shifting. “There might be a missed opportunity back home, but to be honest, I wouldn’t change this opportunity for the world. Who else gets to travel to another planet like this? I get to study cultures nobody on Earth has ever seen or heard of. I get to read books about things that would blow anyone’s mind. I get to do things I would’ve never had the chance to do, if I’d stayed, safe and small, at home,” she said, but the sentiment was bittersweet. It was hard to think about the lives and dreams we might have had, and how we had let them go to step into the unknown. But Lauren was right—who else got to do what we did? Who else got to live a life of adventure, in the far reaches of the universe?
Angie nodded firmly. “I know Paris would’ve been amazing, but Lauren is right. We’re doing something special here. Even when we have to go back, we’ll have our memories, and that is worth everything we’ve given up to be here. Earth is good, but Vysanthe has its perks too.”
“What, you mean Bashrik?” I teased.
“No, not Bashrik.” Angie scoffed. “I mean, learning something new, being on a different planet.”
Lauren smirked. “Come on, Ang, we know you like him. It’s obvious to literally everyone but the pair of you.”
“I don’t like him, but I just wish the queen would leave him alone. I mean, he’s not interested, for God’s sake, but she keeps coming after him.” Angie sighed. “Take this whole party, for example. What person in their right mind announces their love for someone who clearly has no interest, in front of a load of people? It’s because she knows she?
??s queen, and he can’t say no to her, and that bugs me,” she muttered.
“Do you want him to say no?” I prodded.
Angie looked at Lauren and me, then took a deep breath. “Okay, yes… I want him to say no, okay? There, I said it! I guess I do like him a bit—in a really weird way—and I… I don’t want him to go off with the queen. Not that he even has a choice, so it’s pointless talking about it.”
With that, she sealed her lips and turned her back on us, clearly intending to reveal no more on the subject.
I exchanged a discreet glance with Lauren, who looked concerned. We moved over to the floor where Angie sat and put our arms around her. She fought us for a moment, before letting us hold her.
“What would I do without you guys?” she murmured, pulling us close.
I sighed. I, for one, had no idea what I’d do without them.
Chapter Thirteen
With our dresses on, our makeup done, our hair styled, and our heels hugging our feet, we left the apartment and headed down to the party.
An elegant stairwell led down to the foyer, where guests were being shepherded toward the gardens, their excited chatter drifting up to us. We paused on the landing, taking one last good look at each other to make sure nothing was out of place.
“You know, there’s something that’s been bugging me,” Angie muttered as I tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. The chatter continued to flow around us. "Do Vysantheans have a translator installed in their heads, or what? They speak English like freakin' natives!"
That was kind of what I had been assuming. Well, either tech, or some natural, inconceivably advanced language ability. Though, I knew Navan could genuinely speak our language—he’d spent a fair amount of time in the US and Canada, and coldbloods’ learning skills were off the charts in terms of speed. I suspected Bashrik and Ronad were the same, too.
Lauren smirked. “Surprised you didn’t ask sooner. I read up on that, and yeah, actually, it’s because of a small device they have implanted in their brains. Obviously, coldbloods have a penchant for interplanetary travel and colonization. They’re always coming into contact with other species, which means they need a way to efficiently communicate with them. This brain chip… Well, I couldn’t begin to tell you how it works. We might as well call it magic. But apparently coldbloods aren’t the only aliens to develop such tech. Others have, too.”