The Nightmare Charade (33 page)

The thought of Eli having his vital essence drained made me feel as if my body were being turned inside out. My heart ached; my stomach was a leaden ball in my center.

Lady Elaine looked nearly as distraught as I felt when she sat down across from me, the long, narrow conference room table between us. The sight of her distress only worsened my own.

“Don't you have any suspects yet?” I said, my voice pleading rather than accusatory.
Please say you suspect Corvus,
I silently added. It took all my will to keep from telling her my suspicions. I didn't owe Paul much, but I did this—he'd hacked those files for me. If he hadn't, I never would've seen Corvus's brand.

But Eli is more important than Paul,
the thought flitted through my mind.

Sorrow filled Lady Elaine's eyes. “No, I'm afraid we don't. You can't understand how clever this person is. There's no trace. Nothing at all.”

I slowly nodded. I understood better than she knew. Marrow had made a habit of recruiting clever, powerful people to his cause. The magickind parliament in the UK had never been able to figure out who freed Marrow from his tomb, either, and my mom had spent months trying to, as well.

Something clicked inside my brain—a puzzle piece falling into place. “It must be the same person.”

“What?” Lady Elaine said, brow furrowing in confusion.

I leaned toward her. “The man who freed Marrow from his tomb. My mom was tracking him. She was convinced he was here at Arkwell. What if it's the same person behind all of this?”

“It's possible.” Lady Elaine grimaced. “But your mother had suspected he was here for weeks and could never pin him down.”

No, she couldn't. I bit my lip, hating myself for letting that flash drive get ruined. If only … but there was no point dwelling on it now. I needed to stay focused on Mr. Corvus. Once again the urge to tell Lady Elaine what I knew came upon me. This time, I acted on it, seeing a way to shed light on him without implicating Paul.

Clearing my throat, I said, “You don't think it was Mr. Corvus, do you?”

Lady Elaine cast me a suspicious look. “Why on earth would you say that?”

I wriggled in my seat, too aware of the thin ice I was sliding on. “Because he's a … a Nightmare. And Valentine thought only a Nightmare could've done it. That's why he suspected my mom. But with her and Bethany missing, that leaves only Corvus.”

Lady Elaine narrowed her eyes at me. “How do you know he's a Nightmare?”

I began to fidget with my hair. “I saw him in the dark once. His one eye was glowing.” I could tell she wasn't convinced, and growing desperate I plunged on, “And … and he has the Borromean rings branded on his chest just like the Nightmares who confronted Marrow. I've seen that, too.” I bit my lip and hoped for the best. I hated putting Paul at risk, but if it helped save Eli, it was worth it.
I won't tell even if they torture me,
I thought. I was an investigator, of sorts, and no matter how cheesy it might make me feel to think it, I had a right to protect my sources.

For a moment Lady Elaine didn't react at all, only stared at me like I was some new and strange creature she'd never seen before. “I don't know how you learned these things about Mr. Corvus, but you must swear to me that you won't breathe a word about this to anyone else.”

An icy breath seemed to blow against the back of my neck. “Why?”

“Mr. Corvus is working for me. Or with me, I suppose, to be more accurate, and I have vouched for him with Valentine.”

My stomach flipped over at this news. Suddenly my mom's warning not to trust the people around Lady Elaine deepened. What if my mom had known about Corvus and Lady Elaine? What if she had suspected him?

Trying to keep my voice steady, I said, “What is he doing for you exactly?”

Lady Elaine shook her head. “I've already told you more than you need to know. But you must swear to keep this to yourself. What Corvus is doing must be kept secret. Even the Magi Senate don't know about him. There are too many people in high places who can't be trusted, Dusty.”

You got that right
. I nodded, wondering if she was one of those people, inadvertently or not.

“Promise me,” Lady Elaine insisted.

“I promise,” I said, and my voice sounded steady and sure, as believable as I could make it. “I won't say a word about Corvus.”

Lady Elaine smiled, looking relieved. I was glad to see it. The last thing I wanted right now was for her to suspect my true feelings—I was more certain than ever that he was up to no good.

And first thing tomorrow, Paul and I would be on our way to finding out the real truth about Mr. Corvus.

*   *   *

That evening, Paul and I worked out the final details of our mission through a series of short, cryptic text messages. I spent the rest of the day wearing the shape-change necklace around my dorm room, trying to get comfortable in the taller, larger body.

Selene returned from the hospital a few hours after dinner with the news that Lance was still unconscious.

“The doctor's said it was a physical attack and not a magical one.” Selene sounded perfectly normal as she spoke, but her eyes were red from crying. “He has swelling on the brain, so they're keeping him asleep for now. They might try to revive him in the morning.”

“Do they think he's going to be okay?” I said.

She nodded. Then her expression darkened. “Let's just hope he saw who attacked him.”

“Yeah, that would be great,” I said, but I doubted it. This guy was too clever for that. I waited, expecting her to tell me more, but when she didn't I quietly asked, “Was Lance's father there?”

Fresh tears blurred Selene's eyes. The wetness made them look more indigo than ever. “Yes, he was there.”

“What did he do?”

Selene exhaled, the sound close to a sob. “He demanded I leave.” She thrust out her chin, her tear-filled gaze fierce. “But I refused. Not until the doctor's told us what was happening.”

“Good for you,” I said, trying to smile, but mostly failing.

She nodded. “And I'm going back first thing tomorrow. He can't keep me away.”

Her bravery brought me unexpected comfort. Despite my eagerness to investigate Corvus, I was anxious about it, too. So much could go wrong. We might get stopped at the gate, the car could break down, or we might not be able to get into the house. And there was the worst possibility of all—that we might not find anything.

But no, I couldn't dwell on that. We had to find something or Eli and my mom might be gone forever.

*   *   *

I woke early the next morning. Even though I wasn't hungry, I went down to the cafeteria with Selene and forced myself to eat. I could tell she was forcing herself to eat, too. It was as if both of us were preparing to go to battle against enemies unseen and undefeatable.

Finally, an eternity later, it was time to go. Selene and I walked together to the main parking lot outside the front gates. I waited until she'd gotten into the car with her mom, then I headed for my rendezvous point with Paul, just around the corner of the nearest building. Five minutes later he still wasn't there, and I started to pace and fret with worry.

“Hey,” someone said from behind me.

I jumped and spun around, startled by the strange voice. I recognized the man as one of the Menagerie workers, Paul's other form. Or at least, I thought it was. “Paul? Is that you?”

He nodded. “Sorry I'm late. Had to get these.” He held up a pair of car keys. I was relieved to see them. Mr. Corvus's house was a good fifteen-minute drive from campus.

“Okay,” I said, rubbing my sweating hands together. “Are we ready then?”

“As soon as you put on your costume.” Paul said, motioning to me.

“Right.” I took a deep breath and pulled out the shape-change necklace. The moment I slid it on, I felt that awful stretching feeling come over me, painful without pain. A few seconds later, I stood several inches higher than before—the difference putting me an inch or two shorter than the form Paul was wearing. I turned in a slow circle, adjusting to the new size.

“Looking good,” Paul said. He reached out and touched my arm. “I'm sorry about Eli.”

I swallowed and managed a nod. I didn't want to talk about it. I was certain that tears would arouse suspicion in the guards at the gate. With an effort, I schooled my stranger's expression into something that I hoped looked calm and innocent.

“Let's go,” I said.

Paul headed around the corner and into the parking lot. He held up the keys and double-pressed the lock button. A car alarm squawked once in the distance. A few moments later, I pulled open the passenger door of a blue Ford Focus. The car was small, a fact I was hyper aware of in my bigger, taller body.

As Paul sat down and started the engine, I glanced behind me. “Couldn't I have just ridden in the trunk?” I said, turning back. It seemed like that would've been a whole lot easier than all the business with the ID and hacking Arkwell's computer system.

“Nope,” Paul said, backing out of the spot. “There are sensors on the gate that check for that sort of thing. They're magical sensors. They check for any kind of concealment.”

I raised a hand, touching the necklace around my neck with the tip of my finger. “Won't it detect this then?”

“No,” Paul said, his attitude confident. “These are the best shape-change necklaces around. Nearly impossible to detect. I mean, they're based on shape-changer magic after all.”

“I hope you're right,” I muttered, but Paul didn't reply. We'd already reached the gate, and he was bringing the car to a stop.

A guard stepped out of the gatehouse and approached the driver's side window. Wordlessly, Paul handed him two IDs, each showing our borrowed faces.

The guard scanned both IDs with some electronic device he held in his other hand. The light on it flashed red to green, red to green. Then he handed both IDs back to Paul. “Have a nice day.”

“You, too,” Paul said. He wasted no time in driving us through the gates and out onto the street. I inhaled, just now aware of how shallow my breathing had become the last few minutes. My heart felt like a herd of stampeding horses inside my chest.

Paul, oblivious to my distress, gazed sidelong at me and grinned. “Too easy.”

“Yep,” I managed, and then I sank back against the seat, trying to savor the relief that we'd made it through the first big hurdle.

As we drove along, Paul pulled his cell out of his pocket and brought up the map app. It took us down several main drags and finally onto the side streets of an unremarkable neighborhood, one so ordinary, I found it hard to believe that imperial, eccentric, history-obsessed Mr. Corvus would ever choose to live there.

When I spotted his actual house ahead of us, I was certain there had to be some kind of mistake. It was a perfectly ordinary ranch-style home on a sleepy cul-de-sac. I stared at it, strangely disappointed. It was the least likely house to hold something as sinister as the Death's Heart and its victims inside.

“Where are we going to park the car?” I asked.

“Right in the driveway,” Paul said, already slowing us down.

“In the driveway? Are you crazy?”

He laughed. “A little, maybe. But the best way not to get noticed in a place like this is to be obvious. Nothing draws suspicion like suspicious behavior.”

I supposed he had a point. I mean, who would believe a couple of prowlers would just park their car outside in broad daylight and knock on the door? They would assume we were relatives, stopping in for a visit. Or maybe we were here to house-sit. I was willing to bet that Mr. Corvus wasn't friendly enough with the neighbors for them to be that concerned about his comings and goings. I'd spent plenty of time in neighborhoods like this, and people generally stayed out of other people's business.

That was American suburbia for you—leave my business alone and I'll ignore yours, too.

Paul pulled the car all the way up to the garage door, and killed the engine. I climbed out, smoothing my hair back and adjusting my pants, which felt strange on my stranger's body.

My anxiety spiked when I spotted the next-door neighbor sitting on his back porch. The guy had a cup of coffee and a book, but to my relief he didn't look our way once.

Tapping my pockets for the contents I'd hid inside them before leaving the dorm, I headed for the front door. Paul followed after me.

“Should we try the moonwort key first?” I asked, reaching into my pocket for it. Eli had given me both it and the lockpick kit late Friday. The moonwort key would be easiest, but there was no guarantee it would work. Mr. Corvus kept his office on campus barred against any kind of magical means for breaking in. I was hoping he wouldn't be so paranoid about his off-campus home.

“Might as well,” said Paul.

I pulled the key from my pocket and slid it into the lock. It went in awkwardly, its moonwort consistency making it flexible. Once it was in as far as it would go, I turned it to the right only to be met with resistance.

“Damn,” I said, pulling the key out again. “No good.” I glanced at Paul, my pulse quickening.

“You've got the lockpick kit, right?” he said, his expression pinched.

I nodded. I knew how to use the tension wrench and the rake, but I wasn't nearly as good at it as Eli, who could jimmy a door in seconds. Still, there was nothing for it. I reached into my opposite pocket, pulled out the kit, and set to work.

Several minutes later I was still at it, the tools slick in my sweaty hands and my frustration building. I was keenly aware of the next-door neighbor. We were out of his line of sight, but that didn't mean there weren't other prying eyes watching us. And it had to be obvious what we were up to now. The sound of the lock rattling while I jiggled the tools back and forth was like an alarm bell.