CHAPTER 38 LYRA
LYRA
A boat was waiting at the dock. Lyra climbed aboard, ballgown and all. “No driver,” she noted, as Grayson joined her on the boat.
“No driver,” a voice repeated, “and no key.”
That wasn’t Grayson . Lyra whipped her head up to see Brady Daniels in the middle of the dock. She hadn’t realized he was there, hadn’t felt his presence at all.
She wondered how far he’d made it in the game.
“No driver,” a British voice reiterated. “And no key. Now that is a dilemma.” Rohan stepped onto the dock and into the faint light cast by the boat, and Lyra noted that Rohan’s tuxedo was a deep purple to Brady’s traditional black, Rohan’s mask the less symmetrical of the two.
“It’s only a dilemma for some of us.” Savannah brushed past Rohan and looked pointedly toward Grayson. “Where is it?” she asked her brother. “The boat key.”
Lyra had time to register the color of Savannah’s dress— white —and the fact that there was something written on her arm in black ink, but that was all before Grayson responded to his sister’s question by leaning over the edge of the boat—and over some more to reach the side of the dock.
Within seconds, Grayson had the boat key, complete with keychain. Lyra zeroed in on the keychain, taking in its shape. She wasn’t the only one.
“Is that a narwhal giving an axolotl a piggyback ride?” Brady said, frowning.
“Let me guess.” Lyra met Grayson’s eyes through their masks. “This is Xander’s boat.”
Grayson wasted little time putting the key in the boat’s ignition. “Technically,” he told Lyra, “it’s Xander’s backup boat.”
Grayson turned the key, and by the time he’d done it, all five players were on board. The boat’s dashboard lit up with two blinking dots on what looked like some kind of grid.
Rohan took a seat at the back of the boat, his legs stretched out, his arms spread wide. “Who wants to bet that’s another map?”
Grayson pulled the boat away from the edge of the dock and throttled it, jetting out into the Pacific. It didn’t take Lyra long to confirm that on the dashboard, one dot was moving closer to the other, tracking the boat’s progress through open ocean—and toward their destination.
It was a full ten minutes before it came into view.
A yacht. No amount of objectively knowing that Avery Grambs was a billionaire could have prepared Lyra for the sheer size and opulence of it.
The closer they got to the yacht, the more massive it appeared.
Two-third the length of a football field?
Four levels high. Each of the yacht’s four decks was illuminated with an eerie, golden glow.
Blue LED lights ringed the bottom of the yacht, making the midnight ocean look somehow even blacker.
“Not bad,” Rohan opined. “As far as command centers go.”
Lyra supposed it made sense, given the location of the game, that the game makers had chosen a ship for their headquarters, but this wasn’t just a ship . It was the yacht to end all yachts.
As the boat drew closer, Lyra saw Avery Grambs standing on the lowermost deck, clad in a golden gown and a matching mask. It wasn’t until they’d docked and Lyra stepped onto the back of the yacht that she realized: the design on Avery’s gown, the exquisite swirls of detail…
They all formed the same, familiar symbol. Infinity.
“Somewhere on this yacht,” the Hawthorne heiress announced, “you’ll find a hint or two to the puzzles you’re working on.”
“Puzzles, plural,” Rohan noted. “I take it someone has already solved the music box.”
Clearly, it wasn’t him—or Savannah. Lyra and Grayson hadn’t solved it yet, either. That left only one player, the one who’d given Lyra one answer in this game already. Brady.
“You’re also welcome to eat, play, and rest up while you’re here,” a voice called down to them. “If you need it.”
Lyra looked up. A masked figure stood on top of a metal railing on the uppermost deck. Jameson Hawthorne.
“And just like that…” Rohan snapped his fingers. “The scholar disappears.”
Lyra looked around. Sure enough, Brady was already nowhere to be seen.
“After tonight,” Avery told the remaining players, “you won’t be seeing us again until the end of the game. No more ballgowns. No more masks. No more parties. Just puzzle to puzzle to puzzle until the end.”
“Until,” Jameson called down, “we have our winner.” There was a tone in Jameson’s voice that Lyra couldn’t quite read, and this time, when she looked up, Jameson Hawthorne was staring down at her—and only at her. Unlike the rest of them, he wasn’t masked.
And he wasn’t smiling.
Lyra looked away from Jameson, and Savannah Grayson caught her gaze. He’ll choose them every time , Lyra could practically hear her saying. He’ll choose her .
Beside Lyra, Grayson was looking at Avery in that infinity gown.
I’m not asking him to choose me , Lyra thought fiercely, but she still couldn’t push down the feeling of dread churning in her stomach at the thought of what was to come.
Opposite Lyra, Savannah turned to Rohan and bared her teeth in a glittering, socialite’s smile. “Game on.”