Hotbloods 5: Traitors

“Do not fret, Jareth. My men are simply searching your property, to test the truth in your self-proclaimed loyalty. If you are not guilty, you have nothing to worry about.” I could hear the menace in her voice, challenging him to prove her wrong.

“I have nothing to hide, Your Majesty, though I wish you could have warned me so I might have brought you anything you required,” he replied calmly. “You and I do not need to go through this rigmarole, surely?”

The queen’s footsteps drew closer to the bed. “Why should you be an exception?” she asked sharply. “So many others have betrayed me; why should you be any different? I will scour the entirety of the South, weeding out every single traitor, if I have to.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. I only meant that I have nothing to hide from you, but I understand that you must see that for yourself, before you may put your mind at ease,” Jareth said soothingly. “It is not an easy task for any ruler to endure—the ongoing struggles of war, and what may come after. Indeed, I have heard that you are having difficulty sleeping at night. Perhaps you might allow me to concoct something for you, to help you drift off?”

I heard the sharp sound of a slap. Evidently, Queen Gianne didn’t approve of his suggestion. No doubt she already had someone checking everything she ingested, for fear of being poisoned.

“Who is whispering these words in your ears, Jareth? Who is feeding you these lies?” Gianne spat. “Are you calling me weak, Jareth? Do you believe me incapable of sleeping soundly, just because there’s a war going on? I don’t see the dead when I close my eyes. I don’t see anything. I sleep like a newborn!”

I covered my ears as her voice rose to an eardrum-splitting screech. I could hear every doubt, every insecurity, every fear in the high-pitched tremble of her words. And it was all too clear that she was seeing the dead when she closed her eyes. No wonder she was losing her sanity. If she was losing her temper at something as small as a suggestion about sleeping tonic, what hope was there for anything else?

“I’m not calling you weak, Your Majesty,” Jareth assured her. “I simply overheard you speaking with a doctor a few days ago and felt concerned for your wellbeing. I’m sorry if I got the wrong impression.”

“Which doctor?” she asked.

My eyes flew wide with fear. If Jareth accused Mort of the so-called crime, he’d never get out of the palace alive.

“I don’t remember, Your Majesty. I think you told him you were fine—it is definitely my mistake. Please, accept my sincerest apologies for jumping to conclusions,” he pleaded, his words offering me a shred of relief.

I tried to get a closer look at the door as more footsteps approached, distracting Jareth and the queen. Moving around to find a better angle, I saw two pairs of heavy boots—presumably belonging to Gianne’s guards—moving down the hallway, getting closer to the bedroom. Between them, they were dragging a prisoner. I didn’t even need to see his face to know they’d captured Ronad.

“Nothing to hide, eh?” Gianne snapped.

“It isn’t a crime to employ the labor of a former coldblood, Your Majesty,” Jareth countered. “He was given to me as a gift.”

My heart gripped in my chest as I saw Ronad lolling between the two soldiers. His nose was bloodied, and bruises were blossoming beneath his tanned skin. They’d beaten the crap out of him, knocking him unconscious so he couldn’t defend himself. Or Jareth, for that matter.

“I KNEW you were lying to me, Jareth Idrax!” Gianne screamed. “Don’t try and fool me with all of this ‘gift’ nonsense. He’s not a gift, and he’s not a slave. I know exactly what he is… He’s your test subject, isn’t he? He’s the one you’ve been trying out all your secret batches of elixir on! I am correct, am I not?” Her voice was deafening. Even the soldiers were grimacing.

“He is my servant, Your Majesty, nothing more,” Jareth insisted.

“Look at the state of him! You must have done something to him! I’ve seen former coldbloods before, but I’ve never seen one like this!”

“I promise you, Your Majesty, he was given to me like this. My only crime here is accepting a present from my son, though he gave this slave to me before he disappeared. And, while you might have labeled him a defector in the meantime, there is nothing traitorous about his gift.”

She stamped her foot. “Take me to your alchemy lab. I demand to see it! You expect me to believe this aberration is not a test subject? Well, I require proof!”

“Your Majesty, I have not worked in my lab for months. It is a dusty relic—more of a study than a working laboratory. I will take you there, if you absolutely must see within its walls, but you won’t find anything,” he said calmly, evidently trying to soothe the wild beast. Unfortunately for him, everything he said seemed to have the opposite effect on Queen Gianne.

“You sound very sure of yourself, Jareth. A little too sure, if you ask me,” she muttered icily. “You’ve hidden it all, haven’t you? Somebody tipped you off, and you’ve hidden all the evidence!”

“What evidence, Your Majesty?” Jareth was losing his temper. “I haven’t hidden anything related to the immortality elixir from you—in my lab, or anywhere else.”

“Curious wording, Jareth.”

“What do you mean, Your Majesty?”

I watched her feet move as she stormed right up to him, undoubtedly getting right in his face. “If you’re not hiding anything that has to do with the immortality elixir, then what are you hiding? I know there’s something you’re not telling me. I can feel it, dripping from the air.”

“Your Majesty, I—” Jareth began, but she cut him off.

“Aurelius, smother his wife!” Gianne growled. I stifled a gasp.

I’d almost forgotten the wormy half-winged advisor was there, he’d been so quiet. I supposed it made sense for him to keep his mouth shut, considering who else was in the room. Aurelius wasn’t the kind of guy who’d risk anything, unless it meant saving his own skin. Right now, that skin was on the line, if he made the wrong step. Although, how he’d managed to avoid suspicion was beyond me. Perhaps Gianne simply thought he was too weak to be of any threat, not realizing that was what made him so dangerous.

“What the—NO!” Jareth gasped, lurching forward, only to be held back by the two guards, who had roughly dropped Ronad to the ground.

“Tell me what you’re hiding, or I will have Aurelius crush the air out of your wife’s lungs!” Gianne screamed. “Well, what are you waiting for? Aurelius, pick up that pillow!”

I tried shifting around to get a better view of the room, but it was hard to do from underneath the bed. I presumed Aurelius had hesitated, not wanting to take a life, especially not one that belonged to his co-conspirator’s wife.

“Fine, if you won’t do it, I will!” she roared. “I am not a cowardly halfwing!”

“Your Majesty, I promise I am not hiding anything from you!” Jareth said desperately. “Please, do not harm my wife. I am begging you! I have nothing to hide. If you kill her, it will be for nothing!”

I knew he was between a rock and a hard place, but I cursed Jareth for being so stubborn. Lorela’s life was at stake, and Gianne wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. She’d kill Lorela without a moment’s regret, and we’d all have to live with the consequences.

It was Naya all over again, with him putting his own feelings ahead of the lives of others. He was lying to protect his reputation and his alchemical findings; he wasn’t lying to save anyone but himself. He would rather see the life squeezed out of his wife than out himself as a traitor to the queen. Confessing would mean his head, yes, but his family would live. He was the big fish she was after, and he was all that mattered.

I took a deep breath, knowing I couldn’t have Lorela’s death on my conscience. If Navan found out that I’d stayed under the bed and done nothing while his mother had been smothered to death, he’d never forgive me. Even if he were able to, I’d never forgive myself.

Lifting myself out of the trapdoor, I slithered across the floor beneath Lorela’s bed and emerged from my hiding place.





Chapter Twenty