Page 11 of Quiver of Cobras
I begged to differ but I nodded wisely. ‘Morgan said something similar. About the truce – not the eating people part. We all signed it so there’d be no fighting between us.’
Rubus’s lip curled. ‘It was a stupid idea from the start. I had no choice but to agree. A strand of magic was taken from each of us and they were woven together to form the truce. It means we’re all bound by it.’
‘And it can’t be broken?’
He raised his shoulders in a heavy shrug. ‘Perhaps if we could see the magic that ties us all, we could find a way to break it. But you can’t break that which is invisible to sight, sound or touch. It is what it is.’
Even without his tales of trying to poke out his brother’s eyes, I’d have recognised that Rubus had already put considerable effort into finding ways to destroy the truce so he could work his wicked ways around the world. Rather than dwell on his failures, which I doubted would improve his mood, I took a different tack. ‘Why weren’t Redcaps and dragons and bogles included in the terms of the truce?’
Rubus laughed humourlessly. ‘We didn’t know about the dragons until recently. And the others weren’t considered important enough – or powerful enough – to bother about. That’s why they’re so useful to me now, despite their lack of powerful magic.’ His expression darkened. ‘They’re useful when they’re loyal. Both the Redcaps and the bogle have betrayed me and I can’t help thinking that you are involved with both. It can’t be a coincidence that Charrie, the bogle who worked for me, disappeared at the same time as you lost your memory.’
‘Honestly,’ I said, ‘you could well be right. But I can’t remember either way. All I have to go on is what other people tell me.’
Rubus smiled again. ‘That’s why we’re going to bring back your memory. I need to know what’s inside that pretty little head of yours.’
A complicated mixture of both dread and joy snaked through me. ‘You know how to get rid of my amnesia?’
‘Not yet,’ he answered. ‘But I know someone who might.’
***
The remainder of our journey was conducted in silence. I debated asking about the mysterious Plan B but decided I’d already put too much effort into playing the role of loyal minion. I didn’t want to unravel all the goodwill that I’d established with Rubus. I was a super spy; I’d just have to spy to find out more. That way I could keep him sweet and save the world all at the same time. Go me.
Unfortunately, when we finally arrived back at Rubus’s latest hideout, I was escorted to my small nondescript room without any opportunity for either sneaking or spying. It was hard to believe that I’d stayed here before on a regular basis. Not only was the room tiny but it had all the charm of a wart-covered bullfrog. Before I could protest, I was unceremoniously locked inside. Nope, Rubus definitely didn’t trust me yet.
I lay down on the narrow bed and locked my hands beneath my head. Whatever my old self was really up to, it was clear she’d been playing the long game. Spying antics aside, I wasn’t sure I could be arsed with that; the long game could take decades. Sure, I’d been selfless and come here of my own volition when I could have escaped with Morgan but I had my limits. I’d been here for three days already and it was testing my patience. There had to be a way to stop Rubus in his tracks for good but he had to trust me first.
I was drifting off to sleep, because every good villain needs a nap from time to time, when there was a faint knocking at the small window. Frowning, I opened my eyes and peered up. Several sycamore seeds had plastered themselves against the glass. I closed my eyes again. A moment later, I sprang upwards and opened the window so I could scoop them in.
It wasn’t autumn yet.
As soon as the seeds touched my skin, the tiny pods began to unfurl. I should have realised. I knew that Morgan had the power to command nature to his bidding; after all, he’d used dandelion seeds to track me when I’d been with Julie. This had to be something along the same lines. He’d obviously seen the error of his ways and was sending me a grovelling apology. I grinned when tiny pieces of paper appeared, each one in a tightly curled roll inside the pod. I unfolded each one eagerly and laid them out on the bedspread.
The writing was miniscule. With only one word written on each piece of paper, I had to squint to read and it took some time to arrange the messages into an order that made sense. I’d been hoping that it would also tell me that the whole message would self-destruct in sixty seconds; alas, it simply stated that I should dispose of the paper before anyone noticed it. The rest of the message was equally disappointing.
You are in danger. Rubus will test your loyalty. Be careful. A friend.
I stared. Was this supposed to be news to me? I knew I was in danger; it didn’t take a genius of my level to realise that Rubus would go all out to make sure I was on his side and not Morgan’s and that I should take every care. What a bloody waste of time. I wasn’t even convinced that it was Morgan who’d sent the message. After all, he hadn’t apologised and hadn’t left any scribbled kisses for me to sigh over. And, thinking about it, he probably wouldn’t know which hideout Rubus was currently using or which window belonged to me.
No, this was the work of a different Fey. The trouble was that I had no idea who. I tapped my mouth thoughtfully. I was going to gamble that it was someone in Rubus’s employ, someone who was a super spy like me and flying under the radar to stop Rubus’s nefarious plans. I’d have to keep my eyes peeled for anything suspicious.
There was a sudden sharp knock at the door. I hastily scooped up the scraps and shoved them into my mouth, swallowing them down. The door swung open and one of my Fey buddies from the rooftop appeared. ‘He wants you,’ he said gruffly. ‘In the laboratory. He’ll meet you there shortly.’
I stood up, brushing the wrinkles out of my clothes and smiling disarmingly. ‘I assume you’re going to escort me,’ I said. ‘I don’t know where the laboratory is. Does it contain a mad faery scientist? I certainly hope so.’
The Fey didn’t blink but simply waited stoically. Honestly, these guys were no fun at all. I sighed melodramatically and gestured at him to lead the way. Without so much as a flicker of acknowledgment, he turned. Like any good little captive, I followed.
***
I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting of somewhere ominously titled ‘the laboratory’. Steaming potions and a few cauldrons, perhaps. The reality was disappointingly mundane. There were a lot of shelves with a lot of vials and bottles and pretty colours. I recognised the pixie dust almost immediately but there was nothing else I could confidently name and none of the vials had identifying labels.
I thought about what Artemesia, the apothecary Morgan had introduced me to, had suggested about her uncle’s over-reliance on his own knowledge. This had to be his place and, at least by its appearance, he seemed to know what he was doing.
There were some herbs on a rack, tied up by their stems so they could dry out. There was even a workbench. It was spick and span and without a single speck of dust. There weren’t even any grinning skulls lying around.
The Fey who’d escorted me left me at the door. In the absence of anyone else, I was free to wander around and inspect everything. I opened a few bottles and sniffed surreptitiously. Some of them smelled even worse than Rubus’s aftershave. There was no paper to be seen; neither were there any books.
The fact that I’d been left here alone couldn’t be an accident. Perhaps this was the scenario my mysterious sycamore friend had been trying to warn me about but I couldn’t see why. Nothing in here was recognisable and, after my bout of rowan poisoning, I had a healthy suspicion of any strange potions or lotions. I hopped onto the nearest table and started swinging my legs.
