Chapter Seventeen

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Ily

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DOING MY BEST TO KEEP MY attention on Faiza, I listened with Mollie and Rachel. Three weeks had passed, and we’d managed to meet most days. The guards didn’t care, the cooks just rolled their eyes, and we’d made headway...but not as much as we needed to.

I rubbed at the persistent bruise in my heart. A bruise that refused to heal like the others had on my body.

Three weeks and Henri hadn’t said a damn word to me.

Each time we made eye contact, he tore his stare away.

Each time he climbed into bed, he grabbed a book with shaky hands and threw himself into the pages with feral desperation, hinting he wasn’t coping.

I’d tried to talk to him.

I’d tried to give him pieces of my past. I whispered about my dream of working with the Crown Jewels. Of my job at the Tower of London. I even told him a little about Krish and his unique, wonderful way of viewing the world.

And...nothing.

Not a peep.

He showered alone.

Dressed quickly.

And visibly exhaled in relief when afternoon rolled around, and I left to visit the jewels.

By the time I returned to him in the evening, his face held so many shadows and his eyes so many ghosts, I didn’t know how to bring him back.

He’s dying right in front of me.

“—but I did manage to get Willem to give me some slow-release fertilizer pellets so that should help, right?”

Shaking my head, I scattered the fears over Henri and focused on Faiza again.

Rachel gave me an odd look before nodding with Mollie. “That’s amazing, Faiza. I can’t believe he agreed to help after catching you stealing the indoor plant food.”

Faiza grinned. “He was brought here as a fourteen-year-old boy. Snatched at a local fete where he showed off his home-grown vegetables. He’ll do anything to get back home.”

Short and petite with glossy black hair, bright ebony eyes, and gorgeous caramel skin, she could’ve been a social media superstar if she hadn’t been targeted and trafficked. Dressed in a prim maid’s uniform, a silver choker glimmered beneath the starched white collar of her shirt.

The first time I’d seen that collar, I’d felt so angry. Absolutely livid that she wore a ticking time bomb around her throat, knowing that any day Victor could swap the silver for gold and her job description would end up like us.

The torment of that had ensured she’d not only agreed to help but went above and beyond to the point she’d become our linchpin in this whole attempt.

Faiza stepped a little closer. “I know you’ve made a couple of presents with the bleach and vinegar I gave you, but...if we’re truly doing this, you’re going to have to target all the guard posts, most of the Master’s bedrooms, and as many large common areas as you can.”

Dismay trickled through me. “H-How many is that?”

Faiza pursed her lips before huffing, “About fifty. Give or take.”

“Fifty?” I whisper-hissed, shooting a glance at the camera. The lens pointed toward the row of knives and pots hanging against the stone wall.

“They don’t all have to be huge,” Mollie whispered.

“The ones in the Master chambers could consist of smaller explosions...just enough to create confusion and smoke. But the ones near the guard posts and communal areas will need to cause a decent amount of destruction. Do you think you could get your hands on any petrol or diesel, Faiza?” Mollie quirked an eyebrow.

“If we can get some Styrofoam, I could make—”

“No way,” Rachel hissed. “You want to make foo gas? Homemade napalm? Have you completely lost the plot?”

“I know it’s highly unstable and dangerous, but—”

“But nothing. You’d kill yourself before we could hide it and set it off. It’s lethal, Mols.” Rachel crossed her arms. “We’ll make fifty smaller ones and hope for the best.”

“Can you make fifty?” My heart raced, amazed at their scientific knowledge of turning simple ingredients into such mayhem. “How long will that take? Will you have enough containers and supplies? How will we place them in the rooms?”

I’d thought three weeks would be enough time.

Turned out, it’d been nothing.

Rachel cupped her belly without thinking. I wanted to ask how she was. Morning sickness had started, so meeting in the kitchens sometimes sent her rushing to the bathroom.

Catching my stare, she winced and dropped her hand. “May has raided the recycling shed again. She’s selected all the bottles that will work. The shed only gets emptied once a month, so it holds more than enough containers for us to make that many.”

“You just need to sneak us as many chemicals as possible, Faiza,” Mollie said quietly.

“You’ve done amazing on the bleach, and I tend to agree that napalm might be pushing it, but if you could get other things like ammonia, pesticides, oven cleaners, hydrogen peroxide, paint thinners, solvents, chlorine, and mold removers.

With a few additions and tweaks, I can make some substantial weapons.

” She smiled and dropped her voice even lower.

“The bleach-and-vinegar mix will create a noxious gas that can kill. If we trapped a few Masters and guards in their rooms, we’d whittle down the numbers quite well.

I can make mustard gas too. If we manage to make enough of them and ensure they all go off at the same time, it’ll be chaos. ”

Rachel hugged herself, a violent tint to her stare. “While the castle burns and everyone runs around with damaged lungs and stinging eyes, we can race in here, grab all the knives, and start slashing.”

I flinched at the mental image. Of stabbing someone as viciously as Henri stabbed Kyle.

“How do we get everything to go off at the same time?” I asked.

“I’ll make fuses out of cotton, potassium, and sugar,” Mollie answered. “If we make the wicks long enough, and if Faiza can recruit more cleaners, we could have her team light them when doing their cleaning rounds in the morning and an hour or so later...boom.”

My mind raced, trying and failing to see how this would work. “What about our collars? I doubt they’re still inactive after running around the island?”

“Yeah, Vic came and turned all ours back on before he left.” Mollie bared her teeth.

“But we figure they can’t shock all of us at the same time.

We’ll be okay as long as we stay separate and don’t congregate.

We’ll also have to get out of the castle once the gas goes off.

Otherwise, we’ll just poison ourselves with them, but...

if one jewel is being electrified, then another can hopefully get close enough to kill the Master doing it. ”

“So...some will be used as bait while others turn into assassins?” I rocked back on my heels.

“You got a better idea?” Rachel asked.

I paused, thinking. “No one’s turned my collar on. At least...I don’t think so. Perhaps if I’m still free, I could use that to my advantage.”

Everyone went very, very still. “Has Master H had any reason to zap you? You need to test it...if you’re right, then wow.” Mollie’s eyes lit up. “This could be the break we were looking for. You could sneak out and get past the electric boundary line. You could—”

“Where’s she going to go?” Faiza whispered. “When I was flown in, all I could see for miles and miles was ocean.”

“Wait.” I narrowed my eyes. “You saw where we are? Victor didn’t block the windows?”

Faiza shook her head. “No, they were wide open.” She shivered. “I was still a little loopy from the drugs he gave me, but I saw enough.”

“Can you describe what else you saw?” I asked. “The layout of the island, the shape of the castle from a bird’s-eye view...I might be able to figure out where we are and...” My shoulders slouched. “It probably won’t help, but...all information is good information.”

“Sure, I’ll remember as much as I can tonight and do my best to give you as clear of a description as possible.”

I gave her a weary smile. “We get one shot at this.” I didn’t want to be pessimistic, but....

“Agreed.” Mollie nodded. “It’s why, even though we need approximately fifty bombs to make even a dent in this damn place, I’m going to aim for sixty, seventy, eighty...

I want spares. I want some hidden in the gardens.

I want some where no one will expect them.

” Her eyes lit up. “If we can enlist more gardeners and get more fert, I could really make something worthwhile. Something large enough to draw all the guards off the battlement and give us a chance to steal a few sniper weapons.”

Rachel sucked in a breath. “Can you shoot one of those?”

“No, but I’m willing to have a crack. You?”

I balled my hands. “I’m willing to do anything.”

“Same.” Rachel nodded.

“Me too,” Faiza whispered.

Seriousness fell over our little group.

“So ...we’re still forging ahead, then?” Mollie asked. “Victor is due back any day now.”

“I know.” Rachel cradled her stomach again. “We need to get as much done as possible.”

We all nodded.

I stiffened, hating that I didn’t have the science degrees or other know-how to help. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to contribute as much as you have. I hate that I’m not allowed to sleep in the slave quarters with you. This would be so much easier if we could—”

“There is something you can do,” Rachel muttered, flicking a cagey look at Mollie. “Something that none of us can achieve. Only you.”

“Of course.” I swayed closer. “Anything.”

“Rach.” Mollie winced. “Are we sure we want to do this? I know we said he has potential, but he’s still—”

“He protected us that night. He killed—”

“Wait...you’re talking about Henri?” I whispered, my heart skipping.

Rachel pursed her lips. “The way he lost his shit on Kyle for hurting you. The way he kept us safe—”

“He’s still a Master, Rach.” Mollie crossed her arms. “He’s still the enemy.”

“Yes, but...what if he truly was acting like he said in those videos that day Victor almost shot him?” Rachel shivered. “What if he’s like a triple-crosser, you know? A cop, turned baddie, but really still a cop?”

“You’ve watched way too many action movies.” Mollie rolled her eyes.

“And you’ve turned into a cynic.” Rachel shot back.

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