conservative tie. But the shoulders beneath the jacket were hunched, as if the blows he’d received these past few days were finally starting to catch up with him.
“I have no choice. I have no military. I am not willing to reveal my circumstances to any other country’s leaders. My hope was that the queen of the sirens would support me in order to clean her own house. This is not a perfect plan, perhaps not even a good plan. But it is the plan we have with the resources available.”
He appeared calm, but I suspected the appearance was deceptive. Still, you don’t go into a tricky military operation with a sense of defeat. It’s too likely to become a self-fulfilling prophecy. “It would be easier to walk away. But I cannot. Whether my son is being manipulated or has betrayed all I hold dear, he is not fit to rule. I cannot leave my people to suffer at his hands.” Sorrowful but determined, he continued, “I will be leaving here at seven this evening. You may choose for yourselves whether you will join me.” With that, he left.
“I did some research. He’s a very good king,” Creede said softly.
“From what I understand, his son’s an idiot.”
“So we go?”
I sighed. “I just wish it wasn’t Stefania’s island.”
“Why?”
I hesitated for a long moment but finally told him: about the curse, the fact that someone had to have summoned the demon. Stefania had one hell of a motive to make sure we didn’t survive the attempt.
Creede surprised me when he shook his head. “It couldn’t have been Stefania who called the demon today.”
“Why not?”
“She was in the meeting with Dahlmar, Lopaka, and Adriana. I was outside the doors. None of them left the room until after your meeting with the seer went south. And I checked them myself to ensure nobody was a demon in disguise.”
A shrug. He didn’t disbelieve what I saw in the crystal bowl, which was something at least. “It’s possible.”
I snorted at his carefully blank expression. “You don’t believe that any more than I do.”
He rose with a sigh. “No, I don’t. But I pray you’re wrong. Because Dahlmar’s determined to do this. And if you’re right, everyone on that plane is going to be dead meat.”
“Get some rest,” I told him. “I’m going to go talk to my aunt.”
20
I hate flying. Big plane, small plane, private, public, it really doesn’t matter. I hate it. This time I hated it more than usual when I found out that Stefania and Ren had teleported ahead to “get things ready” and wouldn’t be flying with us. I’d have felt more secure having Stefania right here where I could both keep an eye on her and have her as sort of a hostage to good behavior.
Still, I couldn’t fault the jet. It was midsized and very nice. Even nicer than Creede’s car, which was saying something. Adriana was rightfully proud of it. I just hoped it wasn’t going to be a really nice coffin.
The plan had changed slightly. Britain is an island and the British have very old, very secret, ties to the sirens. Queen Lopaka had called in a favor from that other queen. The switch would take place on a military airstrip. No one on our side knew, other than the family: Queen Lopaka, Adriana, and me. It felt really weird, but I had to admit I was glad to be included. We would keep it that way until the last possible moment, so we could watch all parties for signs of trouble.
The head of the task force, Harry Thompson, had introduced himself and his men to those of us civilians who were coming along. While he hadn’t said a word against us, his approach had somehow made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t happy to be joined by a bunch of amateurs, however well armed, and that we’d damned well better stay out of his people’s way. He’d then disembarked and made a nose-to-tail inspection of the aircraft. Creede had already checked for magical problems, but that didn’t stop Thompson and his men from checking again.
The task force’s mage was at least equal to Creede and just shy of Bruno’s talent. At first the two men had watched each other with skepticism that bordered on hostility. Then they’d started crafting, and their hostility turned first to grudging acceptance of each other’s talent and then to open admiration.
Everything else that could be done was being done. Still, I found myself squirming in my seat, wishing I were anywhere but here.
I didn’t have to do this. I could get up, walk out, leave King Dahlmar and the others to whatever fate awaited them. Thompson would be thrilled to see me go. One less civilian to worry about. I’m a bodyguard, not a magician, and not—I repeat
Nobody but me.
If I walked out now and everything went to hell—literally—I’d spend the rest of my life trying to live with the guilt. I’m still dealing with two deaths like that: Ivy and Bob Johnson. Every day I wake up I still wonder—what if I’d done this, or hadn’t done that. I might not be able to make this mission a success, but I could protect King Dahlmar with my life.
Somewhere in the course of gathering my courage I’d closed my eyes. I opened them at the sound of a soft cough to find Hiwahiwa standing in front of me, wearing a more casual version of the lavalava in green with a leaf pattern. Even without makeup she had an undeniable beauty. She looked excruciatingly uncomfortable and hesitant to interrupt, but frankly, I was glad for the distraction. Now that I’d made up my mind to stay, I needed something to keep me from thinking too much.
“Can I help you with something?”
She flushed and I wondered what I’d said wrong.
“There is a teenager outside named Okalani. She claims to have an appointment to meet with you.”
“I’m sorry, Hiwahiwa. I’ve been so busy. . . .”
“I realize you are leaving and there isn’t much time. But this matters so much to her—”
“No, it’s all right. We don’t have a lot of time, but I’ll do what I can.”
I hadn’t even finished speaking when the kid stepped out of the empty air in front of me, trying not to look scared in her very hip low-rise jeans and neon green tank top. She was prettier than I remembered, and young. So damned young that she made me feel ancient.
Before we could move toward the exits, I felt the world lurch sideways and every person on the plane was suddenly standing on the tarmac a hundred yards or so from the jet. Which gave us all a perfect view of the fireball when it exploded.
21
“I don’t like this, Celia.” Queen Lopaka’s voice was cold and harsh. Two spots of red had appeared high on her cheeks and I wouldn’t have been surprised if the storm gray of her eyes would’ve been flashing with lightning, given her expression. “If it had not been for pure chance and Okalani’s extraordinary talent, I would have lost my daughter and many of my people. We have a traitor in our midst. Proceeding further is simply too much of a risk.”
We were in the palace, in the beautifully appointed office where Queen Lopaka did the work of running the siren kingdoms. The floor was covered with thick carpet the color of sand, carpet that felt the same underfoot as walking across a quiet beach. Two entire walls were windowed, looking out over manicured gardens and, in the