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He reached out and dragged her to a stop. “I’m a part of this. We’re in this together. What do we do?”

  “Do you still have that party invitation? The one that I picked up the other day?”

  “I believe so. Why?”

  “I have an idea on how we can draw Basem out.”

  “With a party?”

  “Yes.”

  “And how will we get out when Helly just confined us both to the mountain?”

  Kerrigan’s lips lifted at the edges. “I’ve lived here my entire life. You think I only know one way in or out?”

  39

  The Party

  Curly hair sleeked and pinned to perfection, Kerrigan stood resplendent in a Parris original gown, red velvet that fell to her feet with a fitted bodice and dainty off-the-shoulder sleeves. Her bright red hair had been dyed a temporary chestnut brown, and her features were obscured by a small black mask. Only her emerald-green eyes and cherry-red lips were visible against her pale skin.

  “Why do I feel like this is a bad idea?” Hadrian asked from her side as they stepped up to her father’s home on the Row.

  “Because danger goes against your nature.”

  “Yes, yes, it does.”

  “Don’t worry so much. I don’t look like me,” Kerrigan reminded him. “And no one will recognize Fordham. He’s wearing a powder-blue suit to match the swirling colors of the Row. Not a single person expects the prince of the House of Shadows to be in powder blue.”

  Even she had barely recognized him. Though it hadn’t stopped her heart from fluttering at the sight of him in something that showed off his broad shoulders and tapered waist. The way the mask concealed all but his perfect, pouty lips.

  “But somehow, you are still recognizable,” Hadrian grumbled.

  Kerrigan laughed and tugged him closer. “Just hand over the invitation when we get there.”

  Hadrian straightened and cleared his throat as they approached the front of the considerable line to enter Lord Kivrin Argon’s residence. Hadrian himself was in a soft mint jacket with dark trousers. She knew that his patron, Fallon, had impeccable taste in clothing.

  The first thing to do had been clueing everyone else in on what was happening. It was much easier to get Hadrian, Darby, and Clover into the mountain than getting Kerrigan and Fordham out. But once she had them on board, the plan was in motion. Clover staked out Basem’s residence and tracked his moves to get a sense of what he did during the day. Then, Darby used her connections to secure a second invitation to the party, which Hadrian delivered to Basem.

  Fordham didn’t think it was going to work. but he didn’t understand the idea of someone starting from the bottom and working their way up. If Kerrigan knew anything about wanting to belong, it was that no one who so desperately wanted to fit in would turn down an invitation to the Row. And just to be certain, Clover had found Basem at an off the Row tailor, securing a new evening suit. Checkmate.

  He’d be here. Then, they’d just need to enact phase two of the plan.

  They finally reached the front of the line, and Hadrian handed over his invitation. Kerrigan stepped inside with Hadrian and allowed Fordham, Clover, and Darby to extend their own invitation to enter.

  Her stomach was in her throat as she stared around at her father’s home. She spent most of her life trying to avoid the man who had thrown her out. This went against all her own ideals.

  “Breathe,” Hadrian whispered. “You don’t have to see or speak to him.”

  Kerrigan nodded, swallowing down the rising bile. Hadrian knew, of course. That part of this plan hinged on her being able to keep it together if she ran into her father. She straightened her spine and adjusted her face mask. She could do this.

  Fordham, Clover, and Darby entered behind them, and the lot of them moved off into the shadows.

  Fordham irritably messed with his own mask. “Is this really necessary?”

  “Shush, you. Enjoy the espionage. If I can dress like this,” Clover said, gesturing to the gold gown instead of her normal shirt and trousers, “then you can suffer wearing blue.”

  Hadrian snorted. Kerrigan grinned. Darby just rolled her eyes. She was the only one deliberately dressed to draw attention. Her navy Bryonican dress was in the fashion of Sonali’s household, and she even wore the lady’s crest. Her mask was a shimmery gold lace strip that just covered her eyes.

  Fordham assessed them all critically. “I see why you are all Kerrigan’s friends.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, unable to keep the smile from her lips or the challenge out of her eyes.

  “They’re nearly as insufferable as you are.”

  “And what does that make you, princeling?”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Suffering.”

  “Okay, you two, break it up,” Clover said. “Let’s get back to business.”

  “Yes,” Darby squeaked. “I’m quite put out by this whole”—she lowered her voice—“spying thing.”

  “Luckily for you, Darbs,” Clover said, tossing an arm around her shoulders, “you’re just you tonight.”

  “Follow orders, as we outlined,” Kerrigan said. “Everyone is to split up and take a portion of the house. If anyone lays eyes on Basem, be discreet and do not engage. We’ll meet up in the gardens in an hour.”

  “And steer clear of the drinks,” Hadrian added.

  Clover released Darby and poked playfully at Hadrian. “That’s no fun, sweetheart. Just imagine the trouble we could get into.”

  He cleared his throat and stepped backward. “It’s just a suggestion.”

  “And a good one,” Kerrigan agreed. She nodded her head at her friends and then sent them off into the party. “Good luck.”

  Fordham grasped her arm before she could walk away. “Be careful.”

  “I will,” she said with a nod.

  He opened his mouth to say more but closed it and released her.

  Kerrigan headed deeper into the party. Her father’s house was ostentatious on a good day, but somehow, he made all that wealth and extravagance look purposeful instead of out of place. The grandiose affluence of generations of Bryonican royals all on display in one glorious house on the Row. She stepped into a large ballroom, complete with a marble floor, an enormous cherubic painting covering the ceiling, and dozens of guests lining up for the next dance from the string quartet in the corner.

  “Would you care to dance?” a gentleman asked in a silk top hat and a crisp lavender jacket.

  “Oh, thank you so much, kind sir,” she said, layering on a thick accent. She was desperately glad that her ears weren’t visible. “But I am looking for my beau.”

  The man bowed deeply at the waist and then retreated. If someone had asked her to join the dancing, she must look too much like the lady she was masquerading as.

  Kerrigan kept to the shadows as she traversed the ballroom, looking for a hint of Basem Nix among the crowd but she found nothing. She stepped into the next room, which was a second ballroom with a slow serenade playing for the benefit of the dancers. This room was half the size of the last, all polished black granite floor, gilded portraits, and heavy red curtains. A cursory glance said that she would never find Basem in the likes of this place.

  She was about to leave when a waitress stepped forward in the navy-and-white Argon livery. A mask covered the whole of her face. “Drink?”

  On the tray she held aloft to Kerrigan, there was but one glass left.

  Kerrigan inhaled sharply and then covered it with a polite cough. “Allergies,” she whispered to the waitress.

  The gold goblet was straight out of her last vision and filled nearly to the brim with the same blue liquid. The waitress stood amicably and waited for Kerrigan to make her selection.

  With fear creeping into her, Kerrigan took the goblet and inclined her head. “Thank you.”

  “As you wish,” the woman said, tucking the tray under her arm and disappearing into the crowd.

  Kerrigan stared down at the blue dr
ink as if it were a bomb that was going to explode any second. Her stomach felt queasy, and she hastily looked around the room to see if anyone had noticed her before ducking out a side entrance and into the gardens. Though she was hardly alone here. At least everyone was preoccupied with stripping out of their evening gowns and taking a dip in the various rectangular pools that waterfalled in tiers down to the main gardens.

  But Kerrigan’s focus was not on the mostly naked raunchy aspects of her father’s party. What had her vision been warning her about by showing her this liquid? Was it… poison? It didn’t typically show her things that wouldn’t hurt her in some way. She knew she couldn’t drink it, but she still wanted to know what it was.

  She headed down the steps and stopped before a potted plant nearly out of sight. With a backward glance at the rest of the festivities, she emptied half the liquid in the pot.

  Nothing happened. What had she been expecting anyway? It was likely just a particularly potent brew of the faerie punch. She’d had her fair share of dangerous concoctions in her life. Her heart clutched as she remembered more than one occasion with Lyam where they’d gotten so drunk from the faerie punch that they passed out before they even made it back to their rooms.

  Just as she was about to turn her back on the entire ordeal, the pot began to… smoke. The dirt had been reduced to ash, and the liquid was actually disintegrating the stone.

  Her eyes widened in horrified alarm. If it could do this to stone, what would it have done to her stomach? Kerrigan hastily tossed the rest of the liquid, thanking the gods for her visions. Under any other circumstances, she wouldn’t have thought twice about taking a sip of an offered drink. Holy scales.

  “Careful there,” a voice said with a tinkling laugh as a hand clamped down on her wrist. “Don’t want to stumble back into the pools.”

  Kerrigan halted in her steps. She hadn’t even realized that she had been walking backward, away from the horror of the poisoned drink. Someone was here. They were here and they knew she was here and they had just tried to kill her. Again.

  Was it Basem? Did he somehow know her ploy to get him here and confront him?

  “Are you all right?” the girl asked gently.

  And that was when Kerrigan realized who was touching her. She hadn’t noticed at first with her in a dove-gray gown that hugged all of her curves or the blonde hair in a perfect, aristocratic coif. But she would know that voice anywhere, especially coupled with the bright blue eyes and pink-painted lips.

  It appeared that Audria recognized her as well. “Kerrigan?” she asked in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  “Uh… hi, Audria,” Kerrigan said, losing her ability to form coherent sentences around the girl.

  “I thought that you were confined to the mountain,” she whispered. She flicked a lock of Kerrigan’s brown hair. “I like the color.”

  “I, uh… well…”

  Audria looped their arms together. “You don’t have to tell me. I’d want to get out too.” Audria glanced behind her. “I’ve just ditched Roake actually. Boy is as hard to get rid of as a leech.”

  Kerrigan laughed lightly as Audria directed them away from the noise of the pools and deeper into the gardens. She should have felt unease creep in as they escaped the party together, but somehow, she couldn’t feel that with Audria. The last thing she wanted was for Audria to realize who she had once been, but she couldn’t deny that Audria’s presence, as terrifying and confusing as it was, felt natural.

  “Where are we going?” Kerrigan asked.

  “Just trying to keep Roake at bay,” Audria said with her easy laugh. “The party is a little… much, isn’t it?”

  Kerrigan nodded despite herself. “Kivrin does like to go over the top.”

  Audria slanted her eyes toward her. “He does have that tendency.”

  “I should really… get back.”

  “Are you here with Fordham?”

  “Uh… no. I came alone.”

  Audria looked disbelieving. “Just stay with me a minute longer. I’d like to keep Roake’s grubby hands far from my silk dress as possible.”

  “Why do you put up with him?” Kerrigan asked.

  Audria shrugged. “He’s not so bad. Not all the time. But when he’s drunk…” Audria sighed and gestured in a you know what I mean sort of way.

  “Ah.”

  They entered a small, circular garden lined with benches that would likely be occupied for more devious things later in the evening but were as yet unoccupied. Audria sank gracefully into one and patted the chair next to her for Kerrigan to follow. Kerrigan reluctantly did so.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Uh… sure,” Kerrigan said.

  “Have you ever heard of the story of the lost princess of Bryonica?”

  Kerrigan froze in place. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Oh gods.

  “I think… I think everyone has,” she said faintly.

  “Of course,” Audria said lightly. “Well, I actually knew Lady Felicity. We were so young and we became fast friends. Our parents visited frequently, and when we were together, the world was ours for the taking. We were practically sisters. But then, twelve years ago, Lady Felicity disappeared.” Audria turned to look at her. “Lord Kivrin was bereft over his only daughter’s apparent vanishing. The entire kingdom searched for her. The capital city, my lovely Rosemont, was turned over to find the small girl, but not a single trace was found. She was poof. Gone.”

  Kerrigan said nothing. Just met Audria’s questioning gaze.

  “Lady Felicity Argon, First of the House of Cruse, a Bryonican royal, and the lost princess of our people was just… gone.”

  “That must have been… upsetting,” she said around the lump in her throat.

  “She was never really gone though, was she, Kerrigan?” Audria asked. “She just came here, to Kinkadia, to the House of Dragons, and changed her name. She’s you.”

  Kerrigan felt like a knife had just been shoved into her ribs. All these years, she had hidden her past away, avoided those who could ever suspect who she was, and lived this new life. But now, here Audria was… bringing it all to the surface again.

  “My name is Kerrigan.”

  “It is Felicity,” Audria insisted.

  Kerrigan closed her eyes fiercely. “Kerrigan Felicity Argon,” she whispered. “My father never wanted to use my first name after my mother, Keres, died, but the mistresses in the House of Dragons had no such qualms.”

  Audria’s eyes filled with tears, and then she threw her arms around Kerrigan’s neck. “I’ve missed you so much!”

  “Audria, you can’t…”

  But Audria didn’t let her finish her thought. Didn’t let her tell her not to let anyone else know.

  “This changes everything,” she said, holding Kerrigan at arm’s length. “You are Dragon Blessed. You have to be chosen by a tribe. I will speak to my mother and have her choose you. You can live with us in Bryonica and on the Row, as you were always meant to. We could be sisters in truth!”

  “Audria,” Kerrigan gasped. Fear settled in where unease had previously been. This was a dream come true but also her worst nightmare.

  Audria grasped Kerrigan’s hands in her own. “I’m overjoyed. I knew you were familiar, but it wasn’t until I saw you here, among your father’s things, that it all came together.” A tear fell down Audria’s face, and she swiped it aside with a laugh. “Our people will be so pleased to have you back. You’re no longer lost.”

  Kerrigan took a deep breath, and then she pulled back from Audria’s grasp and her enthusiasm and the desperate hope that she could have a sister.

  “What is it?” Audria asked.

  “A person can’t be lost when they were abandoned.”

  Audria frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, my father was the one who left me on the steps of Draco Mountain to be in the House of Dragons. No matter how bereft he appeared… he knew what he was doing. He abandoned me.
”

  “No,” Audria said with a shake of her head. “That can’t be true.”

  “But it is,” Kerrigan said, rising to her feet. “Being lost implies that you can be found, that someone wants to find you. Kivrin Argon has known precisely where I have been every day for the last twelve years. How could I want to go back to a life that so easily threw me away?”

  Audria stood. “What he did was terrible, but there are people who want you. You could have a home and a life. Don’t you want that?”

  Kerrigan closed her eyes. In fact, the last thing she had ever wanted was to return to Bryonica. But was this different? Was Audria’s offer a means to escape the life Helly had set up for her in the Society? Was this actually freedom or more chains?

  “I’ll… I’ll think about it,” she said, and before Audria could say another word, she stumbled out of the clearing and dashed through the gardens.

  40

  The Trio

  Clover

  Clover pulled a drag on her smoke with gusto. She hated this stupid dress and that she had to fit into normal society to come to this sort of event. Truthfully, she would have preferred to be dressed in Fordham’s ridiculous powder-blue suit than this monstrosity. How was anyone supposed to exist in this much fabric?

  “Is it really smart to be smoking that in public?” Darby asked, appearing outside of the crowded ballroom.

  “Probably not.”

  Darby smiled at her shyly and took a step forward. Hadrian practically fell out of the room after her. Darby’s face faltered for the briefest minute. Hmm… had she wanted to be alone?

  “Clover!” Hadrian gasped. He stalked toward her and snatched the smoke out of her hand.

  “Have a pull on it, pretty boy,” she teased. “Might get that foot out of your ass, where it’s permanently stuck.”

  Darby giggled, covering her mouth.

  Hadrian dropped the cigarette on the ground and stamped it out. “Are you insane?”

  “Not in the least, sweetheart. This party is the definition of depravity. You think a little loch is the worst thing that anyone is doing here?”