On hearing those words, Adair reaches into the box, her hands flailing around in the smoke. The crate is shoulder height, so she’s liable to fall inside if she isn’t careful.
Adair’s muffled voice sounds from within the wooden box. “It’s not here. The Orb’s not here. I’ll prove it.”
My mind freezes, capturing the moment. If she’s so certain the Orb’s not here, why make an ass out of herself? The girl’s about to topple head-over-heels in front of every major reporter in the after-realms.
I step up behind Adair, grab her by the waist, and haul her out of the crate. Once she’s vertical again, I take care to wrap my tail around her wrists, preventing any igni-thievery. “Calm down, Adair. You’ll hurt yourself at this rate.”
Her eyes turn wild with fear. “I have to show them. All of them. This crate is empty. Let me look around some more. I’ll show you.” She writhes under my tail.
“And why on Earth would I let you do that?” A trio of guards steal up behind Adair.
“Because I have to check. I have to show them all.”
“Smoke clears on its own, Adair. They’ll see soon enough if it’s empty.”
And watching her try to wriggle free of my tail and leap into the crate, Adair’s scheme for today’s event becomes crystal-clear. Gianna must’ve cloaked the Orb inside the box. Now, Adair wants to take it for herself. All she needs to do is hide the Orb for a few days and the Ghost Towers will blow. My people will panic. Adair will be proclaimed Great Scala. The quasis will force me to give her my igni, or even worse, take my life. She’ll have won.
A guard sets his hand on Adair’s arm, and she goes freaking berserk. “Unhand me! I’m a diplomat!”
Oh yeah, she wants that Orb, all right. Badly.
Hundreds of flashbulbs pop as three guards drag Adair off the warehouse floor. The whole time, she keeps yelling about inspecting the damn crate. “It’s my right to show you! She’s lying! There is no Orb!”
No Orb, my ass.
Once she’s gone, the guards start evacuating the press. The reporters don’t like being led away much better than Adair did. As they’re walked to the door, they call out question after question, everything from ‘when did you know you were cursed?’ to ‘why did you lie about the Orb?’ and ‘what will you do about the pending riots?’
I suppose all the nasty questions and blinding flash bulbs should leave me flipped out and-or pissed off. I’m neither. All I can think about is that Orb.
Please please pleeeeeeease let it be in the crate.
My heart hammers against my rib cage, its beat more powerful with every second. An idea has appeared in my mind and if the Orb is still here, I may actually have a chance at beating Adair.
I keep standing and looking goddess-like until they’re all gone, Walker’s guards included.
It’s just my friends and family now. Time to check if my assumptions about Adair and the Orb are right.
I rush over to the wooden crate marked Maxon Bane. All the smoke’s cleared away, so I can easily lean over and look inside.
Nothing. Nada. Empty.
My friends and family step up to the crate as well. Walker’s the first to speak. “That can’t be empty. I tell you, my calculations were correct. The Orb is in this warehouse. And the tin bird was enchanted perfectly. The Orb simply has to be in that crate.”
“Then it is, Walker.” I turn to the Alchemists. “Gianna cast some kind of cloaking spell on the Orb. Find it.”
“Are you sure?” asks Erik. “She could have sent it somewhere else, too.”
“No, did you see the way Adair fought to get something out of this crate? The Orb is in here, no question. Do your magic-thing and get it out.”
“Yes, Great Scala.” Erik and his buddies start pouring over the crate, discussing what kind of spell Gianna could have used. Minutes tick by while they try different counter-charms and enchantments. At last, a puff of red smoke rises from the crate’s interior.
“Eureka!” Erik reaches into the crate, pulling out a small golden ball covered in a pattern of angel wings.
That’s it. Lucifer’s Orb.
I stare at the glittering surface. After so many days of imagining finding this thing, I can’t believe it’s really in Erik’s hands. Then again, Erik can be a tricky little bastard sometimes.
“This isn’t one of your pranks, is it?”
“Nuh-uh.” Erik offers me the Orb. “Do you want it?”
“No, give it to Walker. He needs to take some pictures and run some tests.” We talked about this before; we’ll eventually need proof for the papers that the Orb was found. And as for the tests? Walker tried to explain them to me, but my eyes glazed over after about ten seconds.
Erik hands the Orb to Walker, who turns it over in his palms. “The energy signature on this thing is unbelievable. I can even feel it against my skin. I won’t know for certain until I run some tests, but it may take some time before the Orb’s affect on Purgatory wears off.”
I suck in a nervous breath. “Like, how long?” If he says he doesn’t know, I’ll have a coronary.