Chapter 32
Astrid
Crouching on top of a toilet isn’t the greatest place to hide, but seeing as I can only stay in one place for a few minutes at a time, this is what I’ve got.
It isn’t much.
I’m exhausted and thirsty and don’t have nearly enough answers despite spending the last hour sneaking around the co-op and eavesdropping on any conversation I can get close to, and I have no idea where Sander is or if he’s okay.
I saw Helena on the stairs at one point, flanked by a big, muscly man, but I haven’t been able to get near her or Rowen, who hasn’t left the ground floor.
I can only hope Sander is still with Rowen and trying to talk him down. That, or he found enough information and somehow got out of the building so he could call for reinforcements.
But would he leave me here on my own? I don’t think so.
Adjusting my stance so my foot doesn’t slip into the toilet, I pull out my phone and zoom in on the picture I took soon after I first left the conference room.
I followed people up two flights to a room with a large map pinned to the wall and managed to get a single shot before someone noticed me and asked if I had officially joined the cause.
I was too on edge to play along, so I ran.
And the chase began.
I’ve looked at this map multiple times, but this is the first room I’ve hidden in that doesn’t have a window to the corridor, so it feels moderately safe for my screen to be lit for longer than a few seconds.
The patterns of the numbers on the red dots scattered across the map match the cards I saw, but beyond that…
From what I’ve pieced together, the numbers told people where to take their cards.
Anyone who came into the building to get a card consulted the map and headed out into the city.
Rather than write the locations on the cards, having it in code prevents anyone who’s not part of the organization from finding the locations if they happen upon a card.
An extra layer of anonymity and security.
But the cards also contained a letter, and there are no letters on the map. Something tells me I need to figure out what the letter means.
A couple of people rush past the restroom where I’m hiding, and I hold my breath until the sound of their footsteps fades. I’ll need to move again soon. But where to go? It’s after three o’clock, and someone said something about team leaders getting everyone mobilized before sunrise.
If it has taken this long to get everything in motion, it’ll take just as long to stop it. Time is running out.
I zoom in on the photo as much as I can and scan the dots along Invem’s busiest street. One of the dots is on a row of small businesses. Another sits over a block of rented flats. Very few of the locations make sense as a point of protest, and yet I’m certain Rowen’s plan is a city-wide strike.
There are dots all over the map, with no rhyme or reason to them.
My best guess is that the cards were taken to team leaders around the city at each of these locations, who in turn are spreading the word to the people under their purview, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there are levels of leadership.
It’s an exponential rate of sharing information in a short span of time without any paper trails or digital footprints.
It’s no wonder we haven’t been able to find any proof of the anti-royalists’ plans.
“Anything?” A female voice just outside the restroom door startles me enough that my foot nearly slips into the bowl beneath me.
“No,” a man replies. “Let’s face it; she got out of the building an hour ago.”
“I really hope you’re wrong. If she went to the police, then—”
“What would they do? They’re on our side and won’t be working today. That aristo lady made sure of it.”
Helena recruited the local police to the anti-royalists? It doesn’t surprise me that they would side with the working class, but how was she the one to make it happen? I still don’t know her part in this beyond providing money.
“Are we doing the right thing, Peter?” The woman’s voice tremors. “Shutting down the whole city like this? What if—”
“Hey, relax.” His words come out gentle and almost too quiet for me to hear. “It’s part of history, yeah? You have to be loud if you want to be heard, and the queen won’t be able to ignore us after this.”
“The queen isn’t even here,” I whisper, shutting my eyes tight. That map had hundreds of dots spread across the city, and if the anti-royalists have enough followers, they really can shut down all of Invem. Schools, stores, buses, hospitals… And for what?
Proving they’re dangerous won’t prove that they’re right. It’s just going to make things worse.
“Let’s check downstairs again,” Peter says. “You start on that end; I’ll start here and meet you in the middle. If we don’t find Storme, we’ll tell Rowen that she must have gotten out, and then we’ll head to our posts. This is going to work, Anna.”
Unless they plan to storm the palace and take control by force, I don’t see how Rowen and his followers can win.
In terms of shifting power, the impact of a strike will be minimal.
Parliament only has so much power on their own, and even if the House of Commons sides with the anti-royalists, the House of Lords will oppose them with equal power.
Nothing will happen until the queen returns, and then the Prime Minister will stand behind Freya.
Everything will stay the same.
This morning’s event, however well-intentioned, is going to cause far more harm to the Candoran people than it will good.
But how am I going to stop it? I’m just one person.
Gingerly lowering my feet to the floor, I pull the toilet stall door open and peek out into the dark restroom.
I move to the outer door at a glacial pace so I don’t trip the motion sensors, and then I press my ear to the crack, listening for any signs of the people outside.
Nothing. The corridors are never empty for long, so I’ll have a small window to get to a new hiding place while I try to come up with some sort of plan.
With a deep breath, I grip the door handle and map out my run. There are two other rooms on this floor, but I don’t know if I can get into them.
I open the restroom door slowly, but the movement triggers the lights.
If anyone is walking the corridor, they’ll know exactly where I am, so I make a run for it.
Both doors on the floor are locked, so I keep running and slip into a stairwell.
By some miracle, it’s empty, so I head upward, pausing at the door to the third floor just long enough to hope that the corridor is empty. Then I tug the door open and—
“Oof!” Painfully colliding with a human, I only avoid tumbling to the ground because a strong pair of hands grab my waist. I struggle for half a second before Sander’s familiar smell fills my lungs, and relief floods through me, leaving me dizzy.
In the next moment, he drags me to the nearest door and into the room beyond.
A massive desk takes up most of the space in the small office, and together we scramble beneath it and out of sight of the door.
“Prince,” I gasp and grip his shirt.
“Storme,” he gasps in return, his hand finding the side of my face and running through my hair. “You alright?”
“Better now.” I gulp a few deep breaths, marveling at how quickly my anxiety is dissipating with Sander here. “You?”
Sander’s features slowly come into view as my eyes adjust to the dim light coming through the open door. He’s smiling, gazing at me with bright eyes. “Never better,” he says with a chuckle.
For how large the desk is, there’s barely enough space for the two of us down here.
We’re a tangle of limbs and shared breaths, and my heart has decided to keep up its hurried pace as we drink each other in.
I’ve never been so happy to see someone in my life, and the way he’s looking at me like I am life itself is enough to undo me.
And though I want to ask about the bruise forming on his cheekbone or curl myself up in his arms or maybe just bring his mouth to mine and kiss him until dawn, we don’t have much time to waste.
“It’s a strike,” I say breathlessly. “Across the whole city. The runners were taking information to team leaders, who in turn are sharing that info with everyone within their radius.”
Sander’s brow furrows. “But what information are they sharing? This strike is—”
“San, we have to stop this. People are going to get hurt.” Releasing my grip on his shirt, I press my hand to his chest instead as if that might help him understand the gravity of the situation.
He nods. “Helena wants people to get hurt so she can call for emergency Parliamentary power. She’s going to use this morning’s chaos to convince the House of Lords that Freya let this happen and power needs to shift to the nobility before anyone else is harmed.
” Sander runs his hand through my hair again, rougher this time as he clenches his jaw.
I can’t say that I know as much about politics as Sander does, but I know exactly why he’s so worried about Helena’s plan.
“If she boxes Freya out and gets enough of Parliament to turn against the queen, Helena can shift power back to the nobility and away from the people. She could undo everything Freya’s done to help Candora change for the better. ”
He nods. “Members of Lords are scared. They’ll back whichever plan doesn’t ruin their livelihoods.”
“And if the city shuts down, even the most honorable members will have compelling evidence to follow Helena so no one else gets hurt. She’ll be seen as a hero, and Freya will be the villain, and it’s only going to make things worse for the working class.
” I swallow as my fear returns, joined by underlying despair.
“Sander, we can’t stop an entire city. Not without Rowen’s cooperation.
If the anti-royalists are organized the way I think they are, only Rowen can stop the strike. ”