“Time’s up,” said Bash. “Which is it to be, Alora?”
But Alora could only shake her head. “Don’t. I can’t. I can’t make that choice.”
“Yes, you can.”
“Nobody will be making any choices soon enough if we’re caught,” hissed Lennox.
“Alora—”
“Bash! I said I can’t! Aren’t you listening? Iwillnotchoose!I will have you both or nothing!” A stunned silence settled over the Room of Desire. “I’ve not had a true friend since I was a child, and I won’t give Lennox up. And I haven’t felt like—well, I’m not sure how to describe what I’m feeling when I’m—” Alora felt herself blushing.Always at the worst of times.“Once, you said that if you were a betting man, you’d say I smile at everyone. You’re right. I do. And I think it was easy then because I knew that was as close with someone as I’d ever allow myself to be.But that’s not whatIdesire. I won’t give you up, either. I’ve been told to abandon this project, to run, to hide, to do this and that and tochoose,and I’m sick to death of it. I want towin.I want to beat Marshall Merridon, that old pond scum, at his own twisted game. Now, kindly allow me to move, Lennox. I have things to do.”
“O-oh,” stumbled Lennox. “Well, let’s… Goodness, hold on! How about...Alora, I command you to move about the mansion at will.”
“And the grounds.”
“And the grounds.”
“Thank you. I would go and pack your things,” said Alora, and then she flung open the door.
Chapter Forty-One
Alora Pennigrim had realized some time ago that Marshall Merridon played a game. A long one, where he’d rigged the rules from the start so that he would always come out on top. She didn’t realize until this moment, though, quite how intricate those riggings were.
It began with the grounds themselves.“Mind your step”,she’d been told. But why? What would happen to her if she didn’t? What secrets might she uncover? Because that’s all those warnings were good for. Keeping secrets.
The special bees in Renwick Forest.
The windowless dwellings of Opulence employees.
The oversized rake and wheelbarrow of the groundskeeper.
Outside, Alora and Bash stepped off the white-pebbled front lane and into the shadows of gargantuan topiaries. There, her hand reached out, visible from fingertips to wrist, the rest of her unable to be seen. By all but Merridon and his enchantment.
Alora crouched, where she ran her fingers through a lawn that’d always looked too green.
“Care to elaborate on the specifics of your plan here, Miss Pennigrim?”
“I’m still thinking of new specifics, Captain. Since I wasn’t able to burn my contract, I’m a little limited right now.”
She’d not come out here on a whim, though. This was where it’d all began. With glittered lanes and shadowed hedges and grass she could not touch. Alora sank fully onto her knees, ripping up the oddly textured greenery. She eyed the fistful from every angle. “This grass doesn’t feel like any I’ve touched before.”
“It’s synthetic.”
“Fake?” She peered around a topiary, eyeing the arrival of patrons, noticing the hoods being lowered, the cloaks being folded and handed away. She startled when she recognized both Mr. Pottenbaums.
Twin torches burned at the matching bases of the specter wolves, lighting their stone fangs and intriguing more than one member enough to circle them. An ill feeling settled over Alora at their delighted perusal. To distract herself, she reached out for the nearest topiary.
“Fake also,” he said.
Alora dropped her hand away. “I suppose that explains why no rain or wind was allowed in. There wasn’t a need.”
Opulence Mansion had been kept in a petrified perfection. Another veil with which to hide its rotted insides. Alora studied its front from where she was obscured—every golden stacked stone. Something niggled at her. Something not right. She shrugged off her coat.
The Urchin captain made a sound of protest beside her, and Alora turned toward him. He was covered still, completely obscured in his dark coat and hood, so she couldn’t read him at all. She raised an eyebrow.
“I’m tired of hiding. Aren’t you?”
The golden gown she wore hugged every curve, heavy and resplendent. She couldn’t tell if Bash cared for it at all, or if he hated it as much as she did.
