Page 63 of Dead Wrong

“Keep your voice down,” I begged, looking over my shoulder again, half-expecting a row of soldiers to be waiting for me. My hand clasped around the stone in my pocket, squeezing it as the comforting heat of magic spread up my arm. Last resort. It had to be a last resort. “Please, I’m here with the Rebellion.”

His eyes only grew wider. “They’re coming, aren’t they? For the Reviled down in the cellar? Gods, this is going to get so messy. The madame’s going to string us all up before the day’s through.”

Okay, the cellar. That confirmed the location. It was a good start.

“We’re going to make sure that doesn’t happen,” I replied. “But if you blow my cover, then things are only going to get messier for everyone, so please, keep it quiet.”

“You’re different,” Eustace said, seeming to calm a bit. “I can see it. You’re different than before.”

“I am,” I confirmed because it seemed like the only appropriate response.

Eustace nodded after a moment, kneeling down to a shelf by the stovetop and producing a tea kettle. “Go fill it, and I’ll get to work on the tea.”

“Thank you,” I said, packing as much sincerity as I can into the words. Hurrying over to the sink, it didn’t take long for me to fill the iron kettle, returning to find a spot cleared on the stovetop. Eustace took it from me, setting it in place as the flames lapped up the side of the kettle.

“China’s in the cabinet,” he said, motioning to the large wooden structure around the corner. “Go ahead and gather what you need. We had shortbreads just come out the oven, so I’ll have some plated up as well. That’ll keep the madame happy.”

“Right,” I agreed, moving for the cabinet and assembling the necessary equipment for the tea service by gathering them onto a silver tray. By the time I’d found the matching sugar caddy and filled the boat with cream, Eustace was there, pouring the hot water into my teapot and setting the prepared tea bags onto the tray.

“Be sure to serve the madame first,” he said softly, giving me a quick wink before turning and heading back over to the stovetop.

I could only hope Eustace would keep his word.

Brandishing the excuse for my reconnaissance, I headed out of the kitchen and back into the hallway, retracing my steps towards Mother’s office. My mind raced through the details I was able to glean. They were keeping Bastien in the cellar, which meant there would be no easy way to gain access to him. We’d have to devise some sort of ruse to see him, which I hoped Cirian might already be plotting. Not only was his location a cause for concern, but the sheer number of militia members milling about proved an almost insurmountable obstacle. If it came down to a fight, there would be no chance of us prevailing. The odds were stacking against us at an alarming rate.

I rounded the last corner before reaching the foyer, stepping to the side to allow another line of soldiers to pass, their boisterous chatter reverberating in the cramped space. Once the coast was clear, I began to move again, but something latched onto my elbow, yanking me hard enough that I stumbled. The tray clattered in my hands, but then someone was steadying me, closing the door I’d been forced through and casting us into darkness.

My pulse hammered, and I contemplated dropping the tray if only to ready a defense against whoever had grabbed me, but then the light overhead illuminated with the pull of a string, and I was able to get a good look at the one responsible for my being in a broom closet.

“After all these years, you’re still terrible at this game.”

The voice—much deeper than I remembered—sparked memories like fireworks in my mind. The Unseen man grasped me by the shoulders, holding me at arm’s length—a rather difficult task for two grown adults in a broom closet—and beamed a snaggle-toothed smile.

“Azzy?” I whispered, forgetting for a moment the cargo in my hands as I stepped toward him. He caught the tray, pulling it gently from my grip and setting it on a shelf beside us. I pulled off the mask, shoving it aside as well. “W-What are you doing here? Are you with the Rebellion?”

Azzy grinned wider. “I could ask you the same thing, Tobi. I take it by your fancy getup that the Hallowed Acolyte had something to do with it.”

I nodded. “He saved me during the raid. We planned on staying at the Cradle till we heard from the others, but then he got word of Bastien’s capture, and we had to improvise.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t our finest hour last night. I tried to make it to Bastien during the chaos, but the sneaky bastard had already wandered off looking for you, and I was knee-deep in Adored soldiers wanting to skin me alive. I wanted to come for you, too, of course. But I figured Lenny would have already saved your arse.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Is she here too?”

He shook his head, bits of his violet hair escaping the soldier’s cap he wore. He was decked out in an entire Adored militia member’s uniform, only his piercing eyes giving any indication of his actual identity. He’d even managed to tuck his tail away somehow in the trousers. “She hadn’t made it to the rendezvous point by the time I left,” he said, pausing for a moment to close his eyes. Twitching movement under his hat told me that he must be listening out for something in the hallway.

“I’m sure she’s rightly fine wherever she ended up,” he continued, his eyes finding me once again. “We’re here for Bastien as well as Crassus—one of our leaders who was taken. Stick to the Acolyte for now, and you’ll know when we make our move.”

I nodded, still in a state of disbelief. Azzy and I, playing hide-and-seek once again around Chateau Greene.

“Now, as much as I would love to stick around and reminisce about old times, I’ve got to get back to the other chaps before they start looking for me.”

“Let me come with you,” I said, squaring my shoulders. “I can help.”

Azzy grabbed the tray from the shelf, offering it to me with a bit of reluctance. “Nah, Tobi. Even in that getup, you stick out like a sore thumb. You never did figure out how to blend in. It’s probably my favorite thing about you.”

I took the tray, stunned into silence as his hand drifted up to my face, stroking my cheek before he offered a quick wink. Then his body shimmered like a mirage before disappearing entirely, the door to the broom closet opening without a sound.

Taking a moment to compose myself and reattach my mask, I pulled the cord above my head to extinguish the light and made my way back to Mother’s office.

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