Chapter 8
Eight
Dante checked the coordinates of his communicator three times to ensure he reached the right location. On the third viewing, he concluded they were indeed correct. This sure was the oddest address he’d ever heard of, and being the emperor of Surge, he was surprised he’d never heard of it.
50,000th street, Building 307 million, Apartment 85.
He scrunched his nose. It amazed him how unfamiliar he was with this part of Giarldinia. Almost like the area had been omitted from the map.
Hybrid children laughed and played, rummaging through the garbage. They danced barefoot, mere centimeters from shards of glass sticking through the gravel. If they were his children, he wouldn’t have allowed this behavior. It was far too dangerous.
One little girl ran up behind him and tugged on his cape. He whipped around and caught a flash of gray eyes and a mess of dark curls.
Instantly he was reminded of Autumn, and then of Maeve, although her memory faded with the passing suns and moons. He could barely recall her face anymore.
He managed to press out a smile and waved but she giggled and ran away.
“Are you going to be okay?” His mother placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He brushed her hand off and ignored her question.
He still wasn’t ready to talk to her after her lies and deceit. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be.
“You stay with the ship, and I’ll get to the bottom of this,” he finally said.
She nodded mechanically, boarded the ship, and locked the doors. Now to find this Treble Spriggs .
The hallways of the apartment building were an unsightly mint green. The windows were smashed to oblivion and shattered glass coated the floor. Dante sauntered, searching for apartment number eighty-five, which he discovered at the far end of the hall. It was one of the dirtiest doors he’d ever laid eyes on.
He balled his fist and knocked, not wanting to touch the filthy exterior. He waited a moment before demanding, “Open this door at once.”
Whispers and shuffling came from the opposite side. “Who’s there?”
“The emperor,” he smoothed his hands against his vermillion cape.
Latches unlocked and chains frantically slid.
“Who do you think you are, making demands?” A boy’s voice echoed through the hallway. A red bandana was tied across his brow and over his pointed ears. He ripped off the strip of fabric and his cheeks flushed. “Oh, I-I-I didn’t realize you were serious.” He bowed his head in submission.
Dante watched the young boy with the cloth in his hand. A supporter of the Red Cloaks, obviously. But he was too foolish to hide the symbol of rebellion. Perhaps he didn’t know any better, and to be honest under the circumstances he didn’t care.
He ignored the red cloth and knelt to the boy’s height. “Are your parent’s home perchance?”
The boy crossed his arms and stuttered. “Who wants to know?”
“Well obviously I do, that’s why I asked.”
The boy leaned against the door. “No, you sent them away right after I was born.”
The words hit him like a gut punch.
“I’m sorry, I don’t recall—” his heart accelerated, at a loss for words. “Is Treble Spriggs here then?”
“Who’s there?” The door swung open. “I’m right here—” The color faded from her pallor face. She cupped her hands over her mouth and muffled a scream.
Dante rose. “I should’ve known it was you,” he assessed her. “You’re fortunate to still be alive.”
He paused. “Is it all right if I come in?”
Treble nodded and winced. A dried lash mark exposed itself on her shoulder from the beating she endured.
The apartment was disgusting. Dante coughed. It hurt to breathe. Mold and mildew lined the ceilings. Baskets containing food and champagne from the palace sat on the floor. Wait, baskets? He did a double take.
He turned toward Treble. “Where did these containers come from?”
“Oh,” she stuttered, her teeth chattering in her mouth. “Autumn, I mean the empress, brought them to me after?—”
“You’re forgetting about Prince Armienti. He was here too,” the boy in the doorway added, his voice as gentle as a song.
Dante’s stomach twisted into a cruel knot. “So, you mean to tell me they were both here together at the same time?”
Treble and the boy both said concurrently, “Yes.”
A fury unlike any other fury Dante had ever experienced shattered him to the core. The only occasion to ever rival this sensation was the morning he lost Maeve. He silently recalled her small, delicate broken body in his arms. He inhaled, seeing shooting stars.
Autumn’s good deed was unsurprising, with her kind and forgiving nature. He should’ve guessed; but, why was Armienti involved?
And why did she feel comfortable enough to share her plans with Armienti, but not with him? He would’ve gone with her. It was all his fault to begin with.
All of it.
He exhaled a deep yet desperate sigh.
They were obviously no longer on the planet. His soldiers had combed every street, avenue, and apartment in the city. They searched the endless fields of Zym and the dark surrounding forest.
Autumn was in danger and somehow Armienti had a hand in it. He was going to kill him when he found him—tear him apart with his bare hands.
“Thank you, you’ve both been most cooperative.”
He turned on his heel to leave but then hesitated. Treble limped, following him to the door to see him out.
He faced her once more. “Those scars are going to get infected.”
Treble hugged herself, running her hands over her stained light-gray smock. She stared at him strangely, brows furrowing.
“You should come back to the palace with me, and I’ll see that you’re fixed up.”
Her mouth was agape. “Are you sur?—”
“I won’t extend this offer to you again,” Dante could scarcely believe the words as they left his mouth.
“What about my brother?”
“Bring him as well.”
“Yay, we’re going to the palace,” he skipped around the room.
Dante bit back a smile. He placed a hand on each of their shoulders and they teleported back to his ship. He needed to prepare for his voyage into deep space. Autumn was in danger.