43 A Chasm Between Brother and Sister #2
Spie exhaled slowly. “How hypocritical of you when you’ve been choosing the empire over us for longer than I ever knew.
But don’t worry, Nicky; I won’t let any investigation get close enough to touch you.
I only need Mother to know she hasn’t won.
As soon as she agrees to spare Artemis’s life, I’ll fall in line.
And if she refuses...” Spie lifted one shoulder in a shrug and opened her door again. “I’ll see you out there, baby brother.”
“Spie!” he yelled, voice hoarse. “I’ll just have her cancel the broadcast.”
Spie put one hand on the doorjamb. “You won’t.
” She glanced back over her shoulder, inhaled through the pinching in her chest. “Deep down, you want Temmi to live too. And someday, you’ll realize I’m doing this for you as much as for me.
Because if you let her die, you’ll hate the person you’ll become.
Allowing that to happen would be the real betrayal. ”
She stepped out of the room and yanked the door shut between them.
The corridor yawned before her like the steps to a hangman’s noose.
But she’d made her decision. The Spie she’d been before meeting Artemis Ialan would’ve run from this.
She would’ve blocked out her mother’s misdeeds and her brother’s faulty moral reasoning.
She would’ve gotten high off springweed and gone surfing to avoid the unpleasantness of it all.
Would’ve composed an entire concerto when she couldn’t contain the pain anymore.
The Spie she’d been would’ve let an innocent woman die. And for what? To keep the peace inside her broken family? To do her duty and play her role so she could flee like a coward? Two months before, her greatest dream had been escape.
Spie didn’t want to be that person anymore.
“Your Highness, a word?”
Spie stopped dead in the corridor. Before her, the grand staircase swept down to the main floors.
Soft instrumentals wafted from far below, along with the smell of sweet cakes.
But the voice had come from behind her. She turned slowly.
A shadowed figure leaned against the frame of an open hall closet. No lights were on.
Spie squinted, walking back the way she’d come. “Arbora?”
Arbora—yes, it was her—melted into the dark closet.
Spie followed. “What are you doing up here?”
Arbora reached behind Spie to close the door. Darkness swallowed them.
“Arbora, what in all the gods and nebulas?” Spie tapped her wrist to flick on her CB’s flashlight. It was new; the one she’d thrown off her balcony had been destroyed. Soft blue light flashed to life, illuminating Arbora’s face inches from Spie’s own.
Arbora said, “I needed a private word before the ceremony.” Behind her were shelves and the outlines of chemical bottles. “You’ve been ignoring my bridges.”
“I’ve been ignoring everyone’s bridges.” Spie turned, feeling for the inner door handle. “If you wanted a word, you could’ve knocked on my door like a normal person.”
“Wait.” Arbora’s hand shot out to block Spie’s exit. “Your room wasn’t private enough for this. We need to talk about Artemis Ialan. Power off your CB.”
Spie froze, the door handle cool in her grip. She turned back around. “Excuse me?”
Arbora’s gaze bored into Spie’s with unspoken ferocity. She’d always possessed a bone-chilling intensity—it was one of the things that had first drawn Spie to her.
“I said, power off your CB.”
Spie let a beat of silence pass between them before reluctantly obliging. Darkness swallowed the closet.
Arbora said, “I need to know you’re not going to do something stupid in the choosing ceremony. Like picking Artemis. I need you to pick me.”
“ Excuse me? ” Spie would’ve taken a step back had the closet door not presented a physical barrier. How did Arbora know Spie’s plan? There was no way she could’ve known.
The dark outline of Arbora’s face loomed closer. Despite being taller, Spie felt suddenly small, trapped. Footsteps sounded in the hall outside the closet and Spie held her breath until they passed.
“I should’ve seen it sooner,” Arbora said more quietly.
“But it wasn’t until that night, when they arrested her in the hall, that I realized.
You ran down to try and stop them. Yelled at them to release her.
You never did that for me. And then there were all the other little things.
Like how you gave her your hairpins to patch her dress.
Or how you got Manny to change her outfit on the net-volley date.
Or how she was always looking at you. Every breakfast, every group date, every cocktail party, she only ever had eyes for you.
It took me too long to realize it was mutual.
” She eased back a step. “Sorry, this isn’t a jealousy thing. ”
Spie didn’t have to feign her confusion. “Then what is it? Because it sounds like jealousy.”
“I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume you aren’t keen on the X-girl dying today?
” Arbora asked. “Or have I miscalculated? I roomed with Artemis—I know she didn’t kill anyone.
And I’m pretty sure you know that, too. Which means your mother is covering up for whoever did kill those girls.
I can only think of two people the emperor would do that for.
You and your brother. But they weren’t your contestants who died.
So, that leaves Nicky. Is my case airtight?
I admit it isn’t. But logical deduction points to him—I’ve had the last two weeks stuck in the manor to think about it.
What I still can’t pinpoint, though, is a motive.
But it definitely puts you in a pickle, choosing between your brother and the girl you love. ”
Spie swallowed. She didn’t trust herself to speak. To confirm things she shouldn’t. Either about her brother or her feelings for Artemis Ialan. Feelings she hadn’t even sorted for herself yet.
“I have a solution for you. A proposition. I can save your girlfriend. But only if you marry me.”
Spie stopped breathing. “What? How? ”
“I have people positioning themselves right now for her extraction. I can get her far away from Expan. I can keep her safe. You only need to say the word.”
“What people? Who are you working with?” Spie squinted at the shadowed visage of her first lover. The eight years since they’d been together seemed to yawn between them.
“That information isn’t a part of the deal.”
“What are you saying, Arbora? Is your sister a part of this? Breaking Artemis out would be seen as an act of terrorism. What sort of people are you involved with that would be willing to do that? I could have you arrested right now for even suggesting it. Are you insane? Do you want to be strapped into a euthanasia chair alongside Artemis this afternoon?”
Arbora ground her teeth so hard, Spie could hear the shuddering crush of bone on bone.
“Do we have a deal or not? If you pick Artemis, it won’t save her.
She’s going to die no matter what you say, whether today or tomorrow or next week.
But maybe I miscalculated. Maybe you don’t care enough to save her.
Or maybe you do, but you’re too much of a coward. ”
“My mother will be presiding over that execution. It’ll be the best-defended square mile in the whole empire. No one can get Artemis out.”
“Let me worry about that.”
There came the slap of footsteps in the hall outside the closet. “Your Highness? Are you in—”
The door opened, and harsh yellow light attacked Spie’s vision.
In the same instant, Arbora’s hands snaked up Spie’s neck to yank her face down. She forced their lips together. Spie sucked in a breath against the unforgiving press of Arbora’s mouth. She lurched back.
A producer was in the corridor with two guards.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt—” The producer’s gaze cut between Arbora and Spie.
To him, it would’ve looked like they’d been using the closet for a private rendezvous.
That he’d interrupted a moment of affection, not grand treason.
“Her Excellency and His Highness are downstairs. Mr. Kar-Beidell’s manning the broadcast room. Everyone else is in position.”
Spie didn’t know what to do. She needed time to think through what Arbora was offering—needed time to decide if she could even trust Arbora, let alone the people Arbora was working with. But Spie didn’t have time.
And neither did Artemis.