Page 81 of Quiver of Cobras
I closed my eyes. I’d told Rubus that one of the side-effects of my poisoning had been a prolonged glamour. The only part of a Fey that couldn’t be affected by a glamour was their eyes – and Rubus had coloured contact lenses hidden in his bathroom cabinet. Black contact lenses. The only person I knew with black irises was Mendax.
Abandoning the mess in the bathroom, I whirled back into the bedroom. I flung off the blood-smeared covers on Rubus’s bed and tipped over the mattress. There was nothing. With my heart rate increasing, I stalked over to the wardrobe and threw open the double doors. There was nothing inside apart from a few coat hangers and neatly ironed shirts. Then a thought occurred to me and I slowly turned to the huge pile of dirty laundry.
I wasted no further time. I launched myself at it, hauling the clothes to the side. When I’d pulled off enough of them to see what lay underneath, my body sagged in defeat. The charred edges of a safe greeted me; it could only be Chen’s safe, the one Mendax had said was in his possession.
The worst thing was that he hadn’t lied. The incontrovertible truth that was punching me in the face over and over again was that Rubus was Mendax. The way both their eyebrows twitched … the strange, high-pitched quality to Mendax’s voice … the mysterious illness which had affected Rubus…
Fey could usually only maintain a glamour for about ten minutes. I’d dropped the gift of how to keep one up for a longer period into Rubus’s lap. Everything was starting to make sense. Even Rubus’s overpowering aftershave fitted; no doubt he’d slathered it on while he was in his own body to mask his pheromones and prevent me from connecting any familiar body scent with Mendax.
I thought of the mysterious jars in the laboratory, the ones that Carduus had been so keen to keep me away from. Now I knew exactly what was inside them. The smell had been familiar because it lingered in the Metropolitan Bar after Morgan and his faery friends cured my own poisoning. It was nux – the only known antidote for rowan poisoning. Carduus had a large supply that was intended for Rubus alone because Rubus was repeatedly injecting himself with rowan to maintain a glamour. And that tracking spell that Carduus had supposedly created to locate the sphere didn’t existent; he’d made it all up so we’d be more inclined to pass the sphere over to Mendax for safe-keeping. I was such a freaking idiot.
Every single thing that had happened until this point was because Rubus was playing us. He was truly a master manipulator. I thought I’d been so clever; I thought I’d steered Rubus exactly where I’d wanted him to be and that I was in charge. In reality, he was the puppet master all along. And unless I stopped Morgan from handing the sphere over to him in the next hour, Rubus would have manipulated his way to glory – and to global genocide.
***
I ran as fast as my legs would carry me. There wasn’t a single faery left anywhere near the premises. I no longer had any illusions that they’d all gone to the old hideout by the docks; no doubt Rubus had commanded them to wait near the rendezvous point so they could witness his sickening triumph.
As I sprinted out of the building, I fumbled in my pocket for the shell phone. If I could contact Morgan, I might be able to warn him in time.
‘Morgan!’ I yelled, narrowly avoiding entangling myself with a lethal-looking pram and an even more lethal-looking baby whose mouth was contorted in a petulant scream. I shook the shell. ‘Morgan!’
I pelted off the pavement across the road, just as a heavy truck trundled up and slammed on its horn. It wasn’t going to brake in time. I didn’t want to be squished Madrona at the best of times and I certainly didn’t have time for it now. Without making a conscious decision, I flicked out a hand and slowed down the seconds so I could squeeze past in front of it. As soon as I stepped back onto the pavement, I flicked my hand again to disperse the magic. There was a roar of sound as time reasserted itself. I wasn’t supposed to do that; the magic used to slow down time wasn’t supposed to be good for this demesne. But as the alternative involved a certain apocalypse, I reckoned I’d be forgiven.
Praying that it would be third time lucky, I yelled into the shell again. ‘Morgan! I need you to listen!’
I heard only static. Either Morgan didn’t have his own shell with him or I’d hit a communication black spot.
I ignored the stares from the other pedestrians. I didn’t care if they thought I was crazy – it was their sorry lives I was trying to save. They might never know that was I trying to be their saviour but you didn’t need to be recognised as a hero to be one.
At that thought, something odd snapped in the back of my mind and a jolting shudder went through me. I shook it off; I didn’t have time for that, either. I had to get to Morgan and I had to get to him now.
I drew on the time-altering magic again. The world around me blurred, the humans virtually freeze-framing like some strange tableau. I’d never maintained this magic for more than a few seconds and I knew there might be consequences for extending it to minutes rather than seconds, but I wasn’t sure I had a choice.
I ran. Beads of sweat broke out across my skin, as much from the exertion of maintaining the time magic as from sprinting. My body trembled and I couldn’t tell whether that was because of adrenaline or fear. I cursed to myself. I was a damned faery; surely, the least I should be capable of doing was flying. I was like an idiot savant without the savant part.
All around me the world moved in slow motion. I dashed past faces frozen in comical expressions – the lovesick eyes of two teenagers holding hands, the scowl of a traffic warden approached by the driver of an illegally parked car, the astonished look of delight on a baby’s face as it tried to reach for the dancing mobile strung over its pram. Even the birds in the sky flapped their wings with a painful lack of speed and I expected them to start falling out of the sky. But as far as they were concerned, nothing was different. I was the one with the remote control on fast forward; I was the one with the power; I was also the one on whom all their lives depended.
I skidded over the bonnets of the cars at the traffic lights and put on a final spurt as I rounded the corner and the library came into view. They were all standing there – Morgan, Finn, Artemesia. Mendax – or rather Rubus – was there too.
Morgan’s hand was outstretched and I knew exactly what he was handing over. I pelted forward, reaching the group just as my grip on time slipped and the seconds and minutes returned to normal.
‘Stop!’ I shrieked. I barrelled towards Morgan, snatching the small box out of his hand in the nick of time. The ugly scowl that crossed Mendax’s face was so similar to one I’d seen Rubus display that I knew I was a fool for not having realised the truth before.
I threw myself up the library steps and twisted to face them all while hugging the box containing the magical sphere to my body.
‘The mad bitch has completely lost the plot now,’ Finn said. Despite his words, he seemed to have an inkling that the sphere had to be kept away from Mendax and manoeuvred himself between us.
Morgan was also bemused. And wary. ‘What’s going on, Maddy?’ he asked softly.
‘He … can’t … have … it,’ I gasped.
‘We’ve been through this. It’s got to be destroyed, not hidden. It’s the only way to be sure.’
I shook my head vehemently. ‘He’s. Not. A. Dragon. It’s a glamour. He’s been … fooling … us … all along.’ I panted. Every word was a struggle. My lungs felt as if they were about to give away and my heart was thumping so hard it was about to burst out of my chest.
All three of them turned and looked at Mendax. ‘I can see why she’s called the Madhatter,’ he remarked. ‘She’s insane.’
I clutched my chest. If anything, the pain was spreading. I heaved in short, shallow breaths and gulped for air. ‘Rubus,’ I whispered. ‘That’s Rubus.’
