Siege of Shadows (Effigies #2)(111)



I was sure our vintage van would stand out as we parked near the upper end of the square, but the patrons were none the wiser, walking around the planted flowers and trees, passing by the stone statue of a man mounted on a horse—the Wenceslas from the carol, Belle told us.

There couldn’t be a secret section buried deep in a prominent museum without someone among the staff knowing about it. The museum’s director had long worked with the Haas family to keep their secrets safe; even if he didn’t and couldn’t know them himself. According to James, he was willing to help out of loyalty to the Haas family. Naomi had already told him to expect our arrival, but we couldn’t just walk inside the museum in the middle of the day right as it was beginning to open; there were too many people around, people who knew our names and faces. We’d have to wait until nightfall, when the museum was closed, but even then, to avoid the people milling about the square, the front door wasn’t exactly an option. But we’d thought of that, too.

“Climb?” Lake exclaimed.

Belle nodded. “The museum’s director will help disable the security to make things easier.”

“Climbing.” Lake collapsed against her seat. “Never gets any easier, does it? I should have just stayed in the bloody dorms.”

“Stop whining. That’s nothing,” Chae Rin said. “The scaffolding at the back of the building’ll make it easy. Just a couple of stories.”

“A couple of stories!” Lake whipped around as the sleek, black burner phone began to ring from the backseat. After flicking Lake’s forehead with her finger, Chae Rin picked it up.

“James? Yeah, what’s up?” Then, covering the receiver, she whispered to us: “It’s an update on Naomi.”

An update, finally. It had been around a day and a half since the attack, with no news. Each of us watched her expression carefully as she nodded and listened. I almost wished I hadn’t. My chest ached as I saw her face fall. “Still in critical condition,” she said.

“Damn,” Lake whispered, drawing up a knee to rest her foot upon the bench.

“Wait, what?” Chae Rin’s back popped into a straight line, her eyes wide as she listened. “What did you say?”

“What’s going on?” I asked quickly, but she wouldn’t tell us until she finally clicked the phone off.

“The Sect is investigating the hit on Naomi. But someone saw us escaping from her apartment. Someone saw you, Maia.”

My body responded with a deep shiver, my fingers cold. “They saw me?”

“It’s all over the news.” Chae Rin shook her head. “The Sect is looking for us. Director Prince is on the warpath.”

But I’d covered my face so well. How could they have spotted me? I swallowed, clasping my hands together. “So we have to get into the museum fast. Grab the volume. Find out the truth.”

“And then what?” Chae Rin said. “We can’t avoid the Sect forever.”

“But we can’t work with them either,” I pressed. “You heard what my uncle said.”

“This whole thing is turning into a damn mess.” She flung the phone down onto the bench in frustration. “I mean, what is this? Are we fugitives now? Effigies wanted in connection for attempted murder of a Sect director’s wife?”

“Oh my god, we’re criminals,” Lake cried. “My name is ruined. My fans will leave me! What will my parents think?”

“Calm down,” Belle said quietly.

“You calm down, Ice Queen. This whole thing is going to hell!” Chae Rin snapped.

“What if they capture us?” Lake was breathing heavily. “I can’t release a single from prison; I don’t have the connections!”

“I said calm down.” Belle didn’t turn, but surely Chae Rin could see her features turn to stone through the rearview mirror. “We also have to consider that the Sect may have been responsible for the attack in the first place. Someone tried to kill a director’s wife and an Effigy just happened to be at the scene?” Belle tapped her fingernails against the wheel as she thought. “Under normal circumstances, the Sect would have done everything they could to control the narrative. They would have gotten to that witness first and made sure she never spoke to the press. Allowing this to reach the airwaves could just be an attempt to make us panic and draw us out. We have to stay calm.”

Ironically, Belle would have been the one to kill a director’s wife if it weren’t for us holding her back. Nevertheless, she was right. Keeping our heads on straight was a tall order, but we did our best as Belle drove us somewhere we could park until nightfall. It was a place Natalya had always told her about: less than a half hour away from the square on the northwest side of the city was a natural reserve they called Wild ?árka, named so after a legend Natalya had once cherished. We parked off the curb of Evropská Street. I stared at the thick of trees, holding the old window curtains open a sliver with a gentle brush of my finger.

?árka was a fierce warrior maiden who met her tragic end off the cliffs of these very reserves, according to the myth. I could see why Natalya would hold a certain fascination for the tale, but I couldn’t drum up the same kind of enthusiasm. There was nothing beautiful about tragedy. Not for someone like me, who’d already lost everything once, who was about to have everything taken away again. I’d tried to stay calm like Belle had said, but she wasn’t the one whose name was being mentioned in connection to the possible murder of a prominent official.

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