I realized he was talking about Carly now, not re-education. “Why?” I asked, in spite of myself. “Why do you care now about her forgiveness? Where was your conscience all those years ago? Or any of the years since then?”
“Re-education did it,” he said, staring down at his feet. “I’d never felt so helpless—so hopeless—in my life as I did there. To be completely under someone’s power, with no one to turn to for help, to make someone feel like they’re at fault for you hurting them … I realized that was exactly what I’d done to Carly. That hangs over me every day.”
Again, I felt bad for him in a way, though he had no sympathy from me over what he’d done to her. Even I got turned down by girls, and when it happened, I dusted off my ego and moved on. I’d never considered doing what he did. He should’ve known it was wrong before the Alchemists threw him into some mind-control camp. It was all between him and Carly now, and although he did appear legitimately sorry, she would be well within her rights if she let him suffer for the rest of his life.
Spelling that out for him probably wasn’t going to help me with my task here, so I more kindly said, “It’s up to her now. But I know she’ll be grateful if you can offer us anything that might help Sydney. Any detail you remember from when you left re-education.”
Long silence fell, and that seemed to weigh on Keith nearly as much as our coaxing. Finally, he took a deep breath. “It was hot out,” he said. “Hotter than I expected. Even in the middle of the day. I got out in late November and thought it’d be cold. But it wasn’t. It was almost like I was still in Palm Springs.”
I gasped, and Marcus gave me a sharp look before I could jump to some terrible conclusion. “She’s not there. Palm Springs isn’t on the list.” He turned back to Keith. “But when you say it was like that, do you mean it was a dry heat? Desert-like? Not tropical or humid?”
Keith’s brow furrowed. “Dry. For sure.”
“How hot is hot?” pushed Marcus. “What was the temperature?”
“I didn’t really have a thermometer to look at!” exclaimed Keith, growing frustrated.
Marcus was equally impatient. “Then take a guess. A hundred degrees?”
“No … not that. But hot for November—at least for me. I grew up in Boston. More like … I don’t know. Eighties, I guess.”
My attention was on Marcus now. I secretly hoped he’d suddenly say, “Aha!” and have all the answers. He didn’t, but he did at least look as though this was useful information.
“Anything else you remember?” he asked.
“That’s it,” said Keith morosely. “Will you please go? I’ve been trying to forget that place. I don’t want to go back for helping someone try to find it.”
I met Marcus’s eyes, and he nodded. “Hopefully this’ll be enough,” he said.
We thanked Keith and started toward the door. Considering his insistence on us leaving, I was kind of surprised when he was the one who suddenly said, “Wait. One more thing.”
“Yeah?” I asked, hoping he meant he had one more useful fact about re-education to share.
“If you see Carly again … tell her I really am sorry.”
“Do you still want her to turn you in to the police?” I asked.
Keith got that faraway look again. “It might be better. Certainly better than going back there. Maybe even better than this.” He gestured around him. “Technically, I’m free, but they’re always watching, always waiting for me to screw up. This isn’t how I pictured my life.”
When Marcus and I got into his car, I couldn’t help but remark, “Two months. He was only there for two months. And look at him.”
“That’s what that place does to you,” said Marcus grimly.
“Yeah, but Sydney’s been there more than twice that long.”
Those words settled heavily between us for a few moments, and I had a feeling Marcus was trying to protect my feelings. “Did she seem that defeated?” he asked.
“No.”
“She’s stronger than Keith is.”
My heart sank a little. “And that’s also probably why she’s still there.” When he didn’t respond, I tried to find a more optimistic topic. “Was any of that of use to you? The dry-heat stuff?”
“I think so. Here. Let’s trade.” He opened the driver’s side door. “You drive, so we can get some hours in. I’ve got calls to make.”
I swapped places with him but still couldn’t help but ask, “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Maybe we should stay put until we’re able to figure out where she is. We could be going in the wrong direction.”
“Not if what Keith said is true. She might not be in Palm Springs, but she’s definitely south of us.” He pulled out his phone as I drove us toward I-84. “I’ve studied this list of possible re-education locations so much, I’ve practically got it memorized. There aren’t many places in the United States that would be in the eighties in November.”
“There are tons,” I argued, feeling like we were having the Potato State discussion again. “Hawaii, California, Florida, Texas. We were just in Las Vegas, and it was an oven!”
He shook his head. “Most of those aren’t going to have dry heat. They have warm temperatures and rain in the winter. And a lot of the high-altitude dry places with desert climates—like Las Vegas—aren’t that hot in November. From what I can tell from this list, Keith’s info, and you being certain she’s in this time zone … well, I think there are only two possible hits. One’s in Death Valley. The other’s outside Tucson.”
I nearly drove off the road in surprise. “California and Arizona? The two states we were just in within the last twenty-four hours?”
“They’re big states,” he said wryly. “But, yes, those are the ones.”
My mind reeled. Either one of those places was less than a day’s drive from Palm Springs. It wasn’t possible that she’d been that close the entire time, that I’d suffered like I had missing her, and there’d only been hours between us! Marcus started to dial his phone but then seemed to notice my stricken expression.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “You couldn’t have known.”
Is that true? demanded Aunt Tatiana in my mind. She was so close! All this time. You could’ve practically reached out and touched her.
I didn’t need her censuring. I was doing plenty of that myself. A sick, heavy feeling of guilt and despair settled within me. So close! Sydney had been so close, and I’d failed her … just as I’d failed at everything. …
“I should have known,” I whispered. “Somehow, I should have felt it in here.” I patted my chest. “I should’ve known she was nearby.”
Marcus sighed. “First of all, put both hands back on the wheel. Second, I’ll give you credit for being a brooding vampire with phenomenal magical powers, but even you don’t have that kind of sixth sense.”
His words made no dent in the cloud of despair clinging to me. “It’s not about magic. It’s about her and me. If the Alchemists were twisted enough to keep her that close as some kind of weird extra torture, I should have sensed it. You can’t understand.” Marcus, like Jackie Terwilliger, was one of those people who’d never explicitly been told about what was going on with Sydney and me but had pretty much figured it out.
“It wasn’t any weird extra torture,” he insisted. “It’s a sad, ironic coincidence. The Alchemists have one re-education center in this country, and it happens to be a few hours from where she was taken. From what Keith and others have said, though, it might as well have been light years from where she was taken. We’re going to have our work cut out for us, even if we narrow down the location. Now, can you focus on the road, or do I need to take over?”
“Do what you got to do,” I told him bleakly.
I stayed quiet as he made his calls to his shadow agents, asking them to drop whatever else they were working on in order to determine whether the facility was in Tucson or Death Valley. He also put out feelers to find out everything possible about the facility itself, to he
lp us with our rescue, and he even made some disconcerting requests for tranquilizer guns and “other related supplies.” All the while, that dark debilitating depression swirled within me, as did Aunt Tatiana’s condemnation. When Marcus finally finished his last call, he explained to me that most of his intel on the place’s logistics wouldn’t come until after he had a hit on the location.
“Once we have a concrete place, we can dig up old records. Even the Alchemists can’t build a place invisibly. They’ll have it masked, of course, but there should be a public paper trail if we know what to look for. I’ve got a few people on the inside too who’ll be able to help once we’ve got better search parameters.”
I nodded in compliance and finally managed to shrug off my despair by replacing it with something else: anger. Not just anger. Rage. Fury at those who’d done this to Sydney. This kind of reconnaissance was Marcus’s thing. Mine would be blasting open the doors and getting Sydney out of that hellhole. That’s how I would make this right.
Yes, hissed Aunt Tatiana. We will make them pay for what they’ve done.
“How long until they find out which place it is?” I asked. “Before you said it could take as long as a week or two.”
“That was when we were guessing blindly. Knowing it’s definitely one of these helps a lot. If it’s Death Valley, we might find out pretty quickly. There’s not a lot out there. Tucson could take a little longer since there’s more of a metropolitan area—and the outlying desert—to hide things. I’ve got people working on both places. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
We stopped for the night in northern Nevada, getting a room in a hotel attached to one of the many casinos so ubiquitous in that state. It was hardly a luxury place but proved decent enough, especially for being in a no-name town. We had cable and internet, as well as a minibar I yearned to raid. Cutting myself off like I had after Court had been brutal, but my determination to stay in control of both my wits and my powers for Sydney was strong.
Once we were settled, I texted Jill, and before long, we had a video call set up with the gang back in Palm Springs on Marcus’s laptop. “Did you find Sydney?” Eddie asked immediately. Jill knew all the day’s details from the bond but hadn’t yet had a chance to brief the others.
“We’re on the verge of getting her location,” said Marcus. “And it’s not going to be far from you guys. Death Valley or Tucson. We’re waiting on confirmation.”
Our friends shared my surprise at the realization that Sydney had been so close the entire time. “Let us know as soon as you find out, and we’ll be right there,” exclaimed Angeline.
For a moment, I wanted nothing more than to have them all at my back. But a few realities hit me—as did knowing that Sydney would never forgive me if her original mission failed. On the laptop screen, Jill grimaced as she sensed my thoughts.
“No,” I said. “You guys are still in exam week. And Jill’s not going off on any crazy escapades. Her life is still in danger.”
“There’s only two more days of exams,” she protested. “And I’m practically out of danger. Didn’t you hear when you were at Court? Lissa expects a vote within the month to rewrite the law about how a monarch needs a living family member. Once that’s changed and I don’t matter, she’s going to bring me back. I’m only staying on in Amberwood’s summer program until that’s resolved.”
I hadn’t heard that, likely because my time at Court had been spent in a drunken haze. “You always matter, Jailbait. And you just spelled it out yourself—that law hasn’t been passed yet. You’re still the key to the throne, and you’re not going to be leaving the safe haven everyone worked so hard to create. And don’t ask for the dhampirs to go,” I added, remembering how she’d used that argument in our last meeting. “You need their protection.”
“I’m not a dhampir,” said Trey. “And I’m under no orders. Tell me where to go, and I’ll be there.”
I hesitated but then slowly nodded. He was right. He didn’t have the same obligations as the others, and he was good in a fight. Angeline gave him a punch in the arm that looked painful but probably only endeared her to him more.
“No fair,” she said. “I want to help.”
“We all do,” said Neil.
“You can take one dhampir,” said Jill calmly. “I’ll be okay with two, especially if I just stay on campus the whole time. Take Eddie.”
He turned to her in surprise. “You don’t … want me to guard you?”
The smile she gave him was very queenly, almost a mirror of something I’d seen Lissa do. “Of course I do. There’s no one I trust more than you. But you need to do this. And you know he’s one of the best, Adrian.”
I doubt any of them, not even Eddie, realized the magnitude of what Jill was offering. I couldn’t read her mind, but I knew her well enough to understand she very much wanted to be a part of any mission to free Sydney. I also knew that she realized no one was going to let that happen. Rather than fight it, she was sinking her energy into getting me to accept Eddie … not just because he was an asset but because her words were absolutely true: He needed to do this. I’d observed him since Sydney’s capture and seen how it had eaten him up in a way different from what I suffered. My feelings over her loss were all about loneliness and feeling helpless to find her. His were about guilt—he still felt responsible for her being taken in the first place. She’d tricked him, sacrificing herself to save him, and he couldn’t get over that. Jill, always wiser than anyone gave her credit for, understood that—and understood that saving Sydney might very well be the only thing that would let Eddie feel redeemed. Jill understood it because she was observant and wise.
Also because she loved him.
Eddie didn’t realize this, though, and mostly felt conflicted. “I’d be breaking my orders … my promise to protect you.”
“I’m freeing you from them,” she said. “And I have that right, both because those promises are to me and because I’m part of the ruling family. As crown princess, I’m asking you to go and rescue Sydney. And then come back to me.”
I’d never heard Jill invoke her royal status, let alone her title as crown princess. That was the whole point of the family law. If something happened to the ruling monarch and an emergency ensued that the Moroi Council couldn’t handle, one of the former monarch’s family members could be made interim ruler until a new one was elected. That law hadn’t been invoked when Aunt Tatiana had died. The Council had managed things, but to keep the government running smoothly, the old laws still required one living family member, just in case.
Eddie gazed at her in adoration as she spoke, not fully grasping that she was speaking to him as someone who loved him and not actually as a commanding princess. But it worked. “I will,” he told her. “I’ll get her back. And then I’ll come back to protect you, I swear it.”
Marcus, not fully following the drama within the drama, nodded. “I’m fine with that. I’d never turn down a dhampir or two fighting with me.”
The “or two” made Angeline and Neil look hopeful, and I quickly dashed their dreams. “You guys stay with Jill. Don’t let your guard down, and don’t get any crazy ideas about bringing her along so you all can help. The fact that this law might be over could also mean her enemies are redoubling their efforts to get to her while it still matters.”
That sobered them all, and Neil and Angeline nodded in grim acceptance. Marcus’s phone rang, and he stepped aside to answer it. While he conferred with one of his contacts, Trey said, “Oh, hey. I meant to tell you. Some girl stopped by yesterday looking for you and Sydney.”
“Both of us?” I asked in surprise. There weren’t many people who treated us as a duo.
“She mostly seemed interested in Sydney but would’ve accepted you too. She was human,” he added, guessing my next question. “Blonde. Glasses. No one I’d ever seen.”
It was no one I could think of either. The only human who might have an interest in both Sydney and me was Rowena, and she had teal hair (last I kn
ew), not to mention my phone number if she really needed to get in touch. “She didn’t say anything else?” I asked. “Why she wanted us? Who she was?”
“Nope. She just said she was an old friend who wanted to catch up. When I told her I didn’t know where you were, she looked so disappointed that I offered to pass on a message if I heard from you. She said no, used the bathroom, and left with hardly another word.”
“No lily tattoo?” I asked pointedly.
Trey scoffed. “You think I didn’t look? I would’ve noticed that for sure. If she had one, it was covered up.”
I had no answers about the mystery visitor, and Marcus’s return soon pulled my mind elsewhere. Excitement practically radiated off him. “Remember when I said we might get lucky?” he asked. “We did. Death Valley. I got it confirmed. I mean, the actual location within that area still has to be verified, but it looks like we know where we’re headed tomorrow.”
“Trey and I will meet you there,” said Eddie swiftly.
“You can finish your exams,” Marcus told him. “It’ll take a couple of days to plan and get all our intel. Like I said, we have to find the place, let alone figure out how to get into it.”
Death Valley. Less than five hours from Palm Springs. I knew Marcus was right—that there really was no way I could’ve known Sydney was there—but it was still a hard thing to accept. So close, I thought. So close this entire time. Equally maddening was that although this was a huge leap in information for us, we were still powerless to act yet. The best we could do was finish coordinating with Eddie and Trey before Amberwood’s curfew split the guys and girls up for the night. When we finally logged off, Marcus made a couple more calls and then stifled a yawn.
“I’ve got to get some rest,” he said, heading for one of the double beds in the room. “Keep the TV on if you want. I can sleep through anything. I’ve learned to take advantage of solid sleeping conditions when I get them.”
I didn’t doubt it after his years on the run, but I still turned the volume off and just watched the pictures as I sprawled out on my own bed and tried to make contact with Sydney. It was past the time she normally went to sleep, but I didn’t reach her, presumably because she was off on whatever other secret errand she’d wanted to take care of tonight. TV without sound turned out to be pretty boring, and I nearly drifted off twice before finding a channel with closed captions that I could read along with. I watched it for a good part of the night, fighting sleep as I continued to make periodic checks for Sydney. The last thing I remembered was a talk show around four in the morning …