Page 61 of The Rebel's Prize

Lucien's mouth turned down.

"Why don't we just ask Octarus if he thinks it's safe?" Imogene said. "He'll be able to tell you."

Chloe had already started to do that. Octarus confirmed that the illusion should hold as long as she didn't have a direct collision with someone.

She turned back to the others. "He says so." She looked up at Lucien, willing him to trust her. His reluctance was flooding through the bond. She tried again to dampen the flow, succeeding a little, but no doubt he knew what she was feeling. "It's worth a try. I can just circle through the lobby, check the retiring rooms, and go backstage. Simple."

"It's too risky," Lucien said.

"Everything about this is risky. But Octarus can protect me."

"A sanctii appearing in the middle of the theater is hardly going to keep the situation calm," Lucien retorted.

"If he has to intervene," Chloe retorted, "then it won't be calm anyway. Besides, Ikarus is here and several other sanctii. If we get into trouble, Octarus can also let all of you know within a second. The theater isn't very big, after all. There'll be help in no time at all."

She felt his desire to say no, protectiveness and fear flashing through the bond. But other than "You're my wife and I don't want you in danger," there was no rational reason not to send her. He needed to be Truth Seeker, not husband, and make decisions with his head, not his heart.

Eventually he swallowed and nodded. "All right. Ten minutes, no more. If you're not back within that time, someone else will come after you."

"Good," she said, stepping back from the others and glancing around. The theatergoers had mostly returned to the building. There was an alley a few feet behind her. She drifted in that direction until she was happy she was out of sight, though Imogene, Lucien, and the corporal were all watching her. Hopefully no one could see through them.

[Octarus, shield me please?]

[Done.]

A collective indrawn breath from the three watching her made her smile. She walked back over to Lucien and touched his shoulder, making him flinch. "Ten minutes," she promised, then picked up her skirts and half ran back to the theater.

She slipped through the outer doors thanks to a couple of stragglers leaving. There were still a few people in the lobby, who had apparently decided that drinking ale and laughing loudly was more interesting than the performance, but it was easy enough to avoid them as she crossed the foyer and made for the hallway that led to the retiring rooms, hoping there might be another door leading to the working parts of the theater.

They had only been able to obtain basic information about the theater's layout, but in the opera house in Lumia and the theater in Fallea, the stairs that led down behind the stage to the levels below had been at the rear of the building. She hesitated a moment but then remembered she had someone who could give her directions.

[Which way?]

[Straight ahead.]

She followed his directions until she reached a door marked Private. She opened it after checking there was no one around to see the door seemingly open by itself and peeked through. Beyond was a corridor, the decoration far more basic. No shimmering tiles or pretty colors, just whitewashed walls and well-worn floorboards. Clearly not intended to be seen by the public.

She slipped through and moved a little way down the corridor, waiting for Octarus to tell her the next steps. Just in time, as a woman in a green gown so heavily covered in sequins and beads that she could only be one of the performers came rushing past her in the opposite direction, muttering something under her breath before crashing through the door that Chloe had just vacated.

Chloe shrank back against the wall until she was certain the woman wasn't rushing back, then began to move again. A babble of voices was audible from somewhere ahead, but she couldn't hear the lobby or any sound from the theater itself, so clearly there were aural wards in place. Useful to allow the performers and stage crew to work freely behind the scenes without worrying about being heard by those watching, but it also meant she might not hear anyone approaching her until it was too late, so she moved slowly, though she was all too aware of time ticking away.

The first door she reached was open, and a glance inside revealed a group of women in what must be their dressing room. They were busy changing costumes and touching up their makeup. No betraying hum of magic came from any of them, so she moved on after asking Octarus to remember their faces.

The next few rooms were also dressing rooms, but the fourth door was closed. She contemplated it for a moment, then decided it was too risky to try opening it with others close by. She was about to move on when she heard a familiar voice.

[Octarus. Who's in this room?] she asked urgently.

The sanctii's response came almost immediately. An image of Deandra. Her face hadn't been altered by an illusion, but she had made an effort to disguise herself. Her hair was an odd red-blonde shade, though Chloe couldn’t tell if it was dye or a wig. Smoked-glass spectacles hid her eyes, and her skin was a deeper gold, which could be stage makeup or too much sun.

Chloe wouldn't have necessarily glanced at her twice on the street, but combined with her voice, it was unmistakably her.

They had her. Had themboth. The excitement made her hands shake as she asked Octarus to tell the others. Now she just had to make it out of the theater safely before the soldiers and sanctii—who would be immune to any magic Deandra might try—moved in to take control.

She glanced down the hallway to the final door. Safer to go forward rather than back. It had been simple good fortune that so far no one had bumped into her.

[Octarus, is that an exit?] she asked, not wanting to wind up trapped in the dead end of a storage closet or worse.

Deandra's voice came again, laughing. Hopefully that was a good sign that no one had noticed Chloe or her illusion.

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