I’m really sorry, Riley, but I have to get going,” Seraphina said. “Will you see me out?”

“Of course I will,” I replied. We wandered down the hallway, heading for the entrance hall. At the end of the corridor, I cast a glance back at the door of Lorela’s bedroom, but nobody seemed to be following us.

As we reached the doorway, Seraphina turned and took my hands in hers. “If Navan does come back, you’ll let me know, won’t you?” she asked, though the hope had gone from her eyes.

“I promise I’ll find a way to let you know.”

“Lorela and Jareth have my details, if you need to message or call me quickly,” she urged, her face changing to a mask of remorse. “I’m sorry I had to ask you to speak to Navan. I know the kind of situation I put you in, and I will never forgive myself for that. If you only knew what was awaiting me… Anyway, that doesn’t matter now. I’ll try to come back to see you.”

“I understand, Seraphina. You did what you had to,” I assured her, feeling guilty that I hadn’t said a word to Navan about it. Silently, I made a promise to tell him as soon as I got in contact again.

“Goodbye, Riley.”

“Goodbye.” I waved from the doorway, before ducking back inside, remembering Kaido’s words about keeping hidden. I didn’t want to be the one who blew our cover. Someone could be watching the house. I shuddered, remembering what had happened in the underground hangar with Gianne and Brisha’s soldiers. There was no way of knowing how many spies Orion had on Vysanthe.

Realizing nobody had thought to follow me downstairs, I decided to seize the opportunity. With Kaido busy, Sarrask gone, and Jareth otherwise engaged, I figured it was time to explore the Idrax mansion.

In fact, Jareth Idrax’s alchemy lab sounded like a pretty tantalizing place to start, especially if I could get my hands on his experiment journal. Saying that, I had no idea where to begin my search. Unfortunately for me, it wasn’t labeled on Kaido’s helpful little map, and it definitely wasn’t one of the color-coded rooms I was allowed into.

Letting all my logical thoughts gather in one place, I tried to guess where Jareth might keep his secret lab. From what I knew about private laboratories, they were usually hidden away somewhere, either in an attic or underground. Since the spires seemed occupied by the brothers’ old rooms, I concluded the alchemy lab must be underground somewhere. He wasn’t the kind of guy to have the entrance out in the open, where anyone could just wander in, especially if he was as protective of his alchemy secrets as Yorrek had been.

I hurried across the entrance hall and headed down a narrow corridor, peering into every door I came across. To my disappointment, all I found were libraries, drawing rooms, storage cupboards, and studies. They were all beautiful rooms, and I knew Lauren would lose her mind over the extensive libraries, but they weren’t Jareth’s alchemy lab.

I dared to go into a few of them, riffling around in case I found a secret passageway, or a trapdoor, or a hidden entrance, tucked behind a bookshelf. By the end of my ground floor snooping, I realized I’d probably read one too many Sherlock Holmes books. I was envisioning things where there were none and wishing for false façades where there was only solid wall.

Then, at the end of a very narrow hallway, which branched off from a smaller library, the corridor’s entrance half hidden by the heavy black velvet of a sweeping curtain, I felt as though my luck was about to change. There, at the end of the passage, was a door. From the library entrance, it was impossible to see it, but my detective work appeared to be paying off.

With my heart pounding in my chest, I approached the slim door and turned the handle. Expecting it to be locked, I was surprised when it swung open without any resistance whatsoever. I supposed, with it being so far out of the way, nobody had considered the prospect of nosy guests. My pulse quickened with nervous excitement as I pressed on into the room beyond. It was dark, with no natural daylight flooding the gloom. Awkwardly, I fumbled for a light switch, finding one by the entrance.

A second later, a dim glow illuminated the room, revealing a laboratory. There was a chair in the center of the room, hooked up to various scary-looking mechanisms, and around the side of the room were countless tanks and jars, filled with what looked like plants. They came in all shapes and sizes, some of them truly weird and wonderful. One large tank housed a pod-like flower that resembled an overgrown fig, only the veins that ran through the outer flesh of the plant were pulsing with vibrant blue light. In fact, many of the flowers seemed bioluminescent, brightening the room. I presumed the lighting was intentionally low, in case it interfered with these intriguing plants.

As I took in the rest of my surroundings, my eyes fell on a book. It was on one of the worktops, off to the side, in between a large tank of clustered red flowers, which appeared to give off a mist of glowing pink seeds every few minutes, and several jars of something pickled. It was the journal I’d been looking for.

I rushed over to it and clasped it in my hands, flicking it open to the first page. Nobody had followed me so far, but I knew it was only a matter of time before someone came looking for me. Inside the front cover, in an unbelievably neat hand, someone had written: My Journey into Neurobotany.

“Neurobotany? What the hell is that?” I muttered, flicking to the next page.

“It’s the study of how botanical distillations can affect the brain chemistry of different species,” a voice said behind me.

Startled, I jumped back, dropping the journal on the desk and knocking over a jar in my hurry to get away. The glass shattered, the liquid splattering all over the floor, and the sharp scent of chemicals met my nose.

Kaido stood in the dim light, watching me. He’d snuck in so quietly I hadn’t heard him enter, and now I didn’t know what to do.

“You shouldn’t be in here, Riley. This is my lab,” he chided, though not unkindly.

“Your lab? Oh, I was looking for your father… I thought I’d find him in his alchemy lab. He mentioned it to us last night.”

Kaido frowned. “You should never go looking for my father’s lab. If he’d found you in his lab, the way I have found you here, there would have been severe punishment,” he explained. “My father does not like anyone entering his lab. I did it once when I was a child, and I never did it again.”

“Why, what did he do to you?” I prompted, wanting to distract him from thoughts of my snooping.

“He took down the ancestral blade of his great-grandfather and beat me with the flat of it until the hands that had done the meddling were broken, and my legs were so bruised that I was forced to sink to my knees, the way our ancestors’ enemies had in front of that blade. That was what he said to me, anyway, though I could not quite see the symbolism,” he said blankly. “I almost lost an eye when the edge of the blade caught my face, but it healed, and my body healed, and I stand before you today, warning you not to make the same error in judgment.”

I gawked at Kaido. “He did that to you?”

“I survived, and I continue to survive. He did what he had to do to protect his property, and I honor that still, to this day.”

“But you’re his son!” I tried to picture this coldblood as a young, defenseless child, being beaten half to death by his father.

Kaido shrugged. “I displeased him. It was the punishment I deserved. I am eternally in my parents’ debt, and so I take whatever penance they wish me to endure. I did so then, and I do so now.”

“What debt? You keep mentioning it—what could you have possibly done to give them that sway over you?”

“It is a private matter that my parents do not wish me to discuss,” he said simply. “I should clean this up before somebody gets hurt.” He moved toward the broken glass. As he started to pick up the pieces, I realized it was oddly easy to have a conversation with Kaido, even if his emotional responses were off. I didn’t feel awkward in his company, or frightened.

“So, this is your lab?” I asked, hoping to create more of a rapport with him. After all, he seemed to tolerate me. He could easily have ratted me out to his father, but it didn’t seem like he was going to. Instead, he was letting me off the hook. That had to mean something.

“It is.”

“What do you do here? What are all these plants?” I continued, with genuine interest. “I really like these ones. They’re beautiful.” I pointed at a small tank with petite flowers, their petals glowing a different color every few seconds, moving from purple, to blue, to red, and back to purple again.

He brightened instantly, dumping the broken glass in the trash. “You really want to know?”

“Yeah, I think these flowers are stunning. In fact, that one over there reminds me of the poroporo fruit,” I said, hoping to edge my way in with some insider knowledge. Plus, I was telling the truth. The overgrown fig plant really did look like the poroporo fruit.

“Well, that’s because it comes from the same family. It has a hypnotic effect on the mind, and, when distilled in small doses, can be used in cures for certain diseases. It can alter an individual’s brain chemistry, fixing their ailment from the root cause,” he explained, more animated than I’d ever seen him. “In fact, I am currently trying to create a serum for my mother, to bring her out of her mental unrest.”

“That’s very noble,” I said. “How is that coming along?”

“It is still in a very experimental phase, but I’m making progress every day.”

With that, he took me on a whirlwind tour of his lab—some of it interesting, some of it not. I didn’t need a ten-minute explanation of what every beaker and bottle did, but I loved to hear about the different kinds of flora he had collected, and their varying needs. It was fascinating to learn what certain fruits and herbs could do to the mind, and how a fraction of a milliliter’s difference in distillation could cause a wildly different effect.

“The sap of the sarafim cane is a particularly good example,” he said. “If you ingest the right amount, it can lead to improved mental focus and physical strength. However, if it is taken in the wrong quantity, it can kill you.”

“Remind me never to try sarafim cane,” I joked.

A funny look passed across Kaido’s face. “If you’d be willing, I would like to conduct experiments on you to test how certain distillations and serums affect the brain chemistry of your species.”

“What would these tests entail?” I asked, dubious. I wasn’t about to let him try that sarafim cane on me.

“I wire you up to this chair, which analyzes electrical pulses and maps the brain, and then you ingest small doses of certain concoctions I’ve made,” he explained. “I then give you a serum to wipe out the effects of anything I’ve given you.”

I frowned. “Will the ‘concoctions’ hurt me?”

“Not in the slightest. It is what intrigues me about botanicals—there is always a counterbalance in nature. I cannot give you anything I don’t have the antidote for, and I would not give you anything that might poison you,” he assured me.

For a few minutes, I said nothing, mulling over the proposal. I knew it could be my ticket to getting favors out of Kaido, especially if I could convince him to show me where his father’s lab was. Plus, if he could show me a way out of the house, or at least cover for my absence, I could sneak away to Ianthan’s man cave and find the transmission device before anyone even knew I was gone.

A few concoctions seemed like a small price to pay, if they weren’t going to have any lasting effects on me.

“Sure, why not?” I said at last, much to Kaido’s delight. It was only the merest flicker of a smile, but I noticed it. “Do you want to start now?”

Kaido looked up at the clock on the wall, his mood changing. “We’re almost late for the demonstration!”

“Demonstration?”

“Yes, Queen Gianne always puts on a show at this time every week,” he explained, ushering me out of the lab and back through to the main body of the house. “We should be able to see it on the big screen. This way.”

“What kind of show?” I asked with trepidation.

“You will see soon enough,” he replied, his voice carrying a bristle of excitement. “Ordinarily, I would be in attendance, as it is mandatory for every able-bodied Vysanthean to be present, but I was given leave to remain here this week due to my mother’s deteriorating condition. I am her primary caregiver, you see.”

I followed him as he hurried through the house and emerged into a large living room with comfy-looking sofas and armchairs spread around in front of a large screen that had descended from the ceiling. Ronad was already sitting in one of the armchairs, looking pretty uncomfortable. A wave of relief washed over his face when he saw me standing there.

“Where have you been? Kaido shoved me in here and told me to wait for some ‘show,’” he hissed, as I sat down in the chair beside him, looking up at the blank screen.

“It’s a long story. I’ll explain later,” I replied, as the screen flickered to life. Kaido was on a sofa on the opposite side of the room, his eyes turned up in something close to reverence.

“What is this?” I asked, turning to Ronad.

He shrugged. “Beats me. I’ve never seen a public broadcast here in my life.”

There, on the screen, stood Queen Gianne. She was on a plinth of some sort, with Jareth by her side, taking up his position as one of her advisors. To my disgust, Aurelius was also there, a huge grin on his wormy, skeletal face. It was only as the image panned back that I realized Gianne was standing on a gallows scaffold, with soldiers on their knees in front of her. Only, these weren’t her soldiers—they were wearing the silver and green of Brisha’s army.

“People of Southern Vysanthe! A great shadow has swooped over our land, and it threatens to scourge our very existence!” Gianne bellowed, her voice echoing through the speakers. Her copper hair was plaited like a Viking shieldmaiden’s, the braids interwoven with miniature spears curved to bend around her head. They were adorned with ruby-like gems that spilled across her forehead like drops of fresh blood.

The audience howled in response, shaking their fists in the air.

“My sister seeks to take both sides for herself and force you all into slavery beneath her hand! She would see you suffer for standing for what you believe in—for standing behind me, your true queen! She wants to destroy the South until there is nothing left. Well, I say we send my sister a message!” she roared, and the audience roared back. “This afternoon, there will be a reckoning! I will execute these traitors before your very eyes, and we will send their heads to my sister, as payment for the lives she has taken!”

I looked at Ronad in abject horror. “What the—”

“All defectors will be punished in the same manner as these traitors. I will not have dissension in my ranks! If you are not for us, you are against us!” she screamed, her eyes wild.

Armed guards marched forward at this pronouncement, while Gianne took a single step back. They wielded arched scythes and gripped the decorated handles. They seemed like ceremonial blades. I’d never seen a coldblood brandishing one before. As the camera panned closer, the blades bristled an electric shade of blue. I knew that kind of energy, and what it could do.

Each guard took up their position behind a kneeling enemy soldier, tilting the sharp blades of the scythes so they touched the exposed neck of each one. Many of the captured soldiers lifted their heads with pride, gazing out with steady eyes, though I could see the tremble of their lips, giving away their real fear.

“To the victory of the South!” Gianne roared.

As the last word rang out, the armed guards lifted their scythes and brought them down again in a perfectly uniform sweep, the whisper of the blades susurrating through the air before they sliced the heads clean off the prisoners of war. The bright blue electricity that had vibrated so loudly seemed to cauterize the wounds on impact, ensuring no blood spurted out to mar Gianne’s clean gallows.

My hands flew to my mouth in horror as I watched the heads roll. A moment later, the guards picked up each one and dipped them in a bucket of amber liquid beside the gallows. The rest of the coldbloods’ bodies were beginning to blacken, and I knew they would soon turn to ash. The heads, however, were a different story. Whatever the guards had dipped them in, it had prevented the flesh from disintegrating. And now, they were raising each one to the audience, who bellowed their approval.

I felt sick, my stomach churning. Each face wore a different, frozen death mask. Some were terrified, some were stoic, some were crying, and all were dripping with a syrupy, amber substance.

Jareth was right—Queen Gianne really was unstable. In fact, she seemed to be descending rapidly into all-out insanity.

“Did you say this happens every week?” I rasped, my throat tight with shock.

Kaido nodded. “It is essential to ensure the nation remains loyal. There can be no dissension in the ranks, as she said.”

I wanted to shake him by the shoulders and make him see the truth of what was happening, but I’d heard the roar of the audience and knew it was hopeless. Gianne had already brainwashed her people, though I had a feeling it was more through fear than anything else.

If this was how she was treating traitors, I really doubted she’d take kindly to my return, especially if I was caught trying to contact Navan in the North. I doubted Queen Gianne even remembered her promise to pardon Navan. Now, more than ever, she would simply see him as a defector.

I couldn’t believe the Vysanthe I’d returned to. A planet truly torn in half. Where before there had been a fragile peace, with two sisters teetering on the edge of an uneasy truce, now there was nothing but the terrifying reality of war.

And here I was, stuck in the middle of it all.

* * *

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