The party wears on. My cheeks ache from the effort of appearing cheerful and flirtatious, uncaring and unaware of the precariousness of my situation. I dance with people. I sip more champagne, nibble at the decadent treats. There’s still no Nazarin. I can’t help but feel he’s thrown me to the wolves. The shiny, silvery distraction.
Nazarin finally returns. He has a pretty man next to him, who’s flirting shamelessly, and he’s flirting in turn with considerable skill. I feel an unwelcome flare of annoyance at the display. With a start, I recognize the other person: he’s Leo, the young man Tila mentioned in her notes. The potential ally. I make my way toward them.
“Good evening. Great party, right?” I sound inane.
Nazarin gestures to me. “Leo, I believe you’ve met Tila.”
“How could I ever forget?” he says, taking my hand and kissing the back of it.
I wonder what sort of impression Tila made.
Leo seems composed, but his eyes keep darting about the room. Perhaps he’s uncomfortable with eye contact. He moves with the grace of someone who knows how to fight.
He meets my eyes. “The party’s only just getting started, isn’t it? Lots more entertainment to come, I’m sure.”
I smile, though something makes me uneasy. Nazarin narrows his eyes at Leo.
“Leo,” Nazarin says. “You’ll have to excuse us, but I want to steal Tila for a dance.”
Leo smiles. “Of course. I might have to steal her after, if you don’t mind that is,” he says to me. Smooth. Very smooth.
“That’d be lovely,” I say, thinking it would be no such thing. “Excuse me, I’m going to find another drink, first.” Nazarin reaches out to touch my elbow. He wants to tell me something, but there’s no way he can. The crowd is thicker than at the start of the evening. Too many ears to overhear a whisper. Ocular and auditory implants have been blocked by tech dampeners.
Nazarin’s eyes follow me as I take another flute of champagne I will not drink from a droid servant.
I turn around and a woman stands right before me, flanked by two guards. She looks me up and down, smiling in recognition. She knows me and has seen me before.
And I recognize her, though it takes me a moment to realize who she is, with her hair up.
It’s Malka. The Queen of the Ratel.
She has the tightness around her eyes that speaks of facelifts. Her brows are high and arched, her full lips curl at the edges. She has skin of a deep brown, her hair in a slick updo, with a web of metal and crystals holding the hair in place.
“Tila,” Malka says. She reeks of power. The two bodyguards at her sides are droids, their blank faces twisting from side to side for danger.
I smile blankly in return, my mind running in frantic circles. I glance at Nazarin and his eyes are wide, locked on me.
“The Khan of Xanadu is ready to see you now. It’s time to Test your mettle.”
I blink quickly, then put another inane grin on my face. “Wonderful. I’ve been looking forward to it.”
She laughs, low and throaty, rubbing the fingers of one hand against the fleshy base of her thumb. “I wouldn’t be, if I were you. Come along, little canary.”
Malka takes my arm and leads me through the crowd. She stops as people greet her, introducing me. I watch other people’s reactions, the awe and fear she inspires in them.
People notice me at her side, and wonder why I’ve been so favored. Why has she come to get me herself? How well does she know me? Tila’s notes didn’t tell me much about her. I’m lost.
“Come,” Malka says. “We musn’t be late.”
All my nerve endings seem to freeze. Malka takes my arm, unlocking me, and I follow her toward the spiral ramp. I chance a look over my shoulder and Nazarin’s staring at me, barely concealed panic in his eyes. Leo is speaking to him, but he doesn’t seem to hear. He wanted to tell me something, but now it’s too late. I try to smile at him, but I can’t. I turn away and walk up the stairs.
I don’t have a choice.
Nobody is up on this level. The clear glass of the ceiling seems almost close enough to touch. Up here, little rooms helix off around the huge circle in the center, a maze of little hidden nooks and crannies. I peek over the banister down at the revelers below. Nobody looks up except for Nazarin. I nod at him, try to smile.
I feel strangely detached. Deep down, I’m aware I should be more scared about this. But it feels … inevitable. I’m following Tila’s breadcrumbs, seeing if they lead to the gingerbread house and the hungry witch.
The Queen opens a door. I can’t see anything inside but another dark, curving hallway.
“Put these on.” She passes me a small white box. I open it. Inside are small electrodes. She helps me attach them to my temples, the back of my neck, my heart. There’s a thin pair of dark glasses. I put them on, feeling silly.
“These will track your physical responses,” she says.
“All right.” I wonder if my mechanical heart will impact anything. They’ll know of it, I’m sure. They know everything; except, hopefully, that I have changed my face and taken my sister’s place.