The Gender War (The Gender Game #4)(3)

“Viggo!” he began. “I was just on my way to get you—”

I cut him off. “Owen,” I said, my tone tight, “what are you doing here? Are you here to finish your mission?”

“No,” he said softly, his gaze turning downward. “I…uh… Well…”

I kept the gun leveled, my anger mounting. I knew this man had just been a pawn, and wasn’t truly my enemy, but I couldn’t trust any of the Liberators anymore. “Why aren’t you in prison? You just tried to kill the Matrian queen with a bomb. What are you doing here if not working for Desmond?”

“Desmond?” Owen’s voice cracked, and the carefully neutral face I’d always seen him wear slipped for just a moment. “Desmond used me for her false ideals and threw me away,” he snarled.

I took one step forward, my head reeling. There was something here I was missing… something very serious. “False ideals? What are you talking about, Owen? I need to find Violet, and I don’t have much time. If you’re not going to help me, know that I will take you down.”

“I’m here to help, Viggo! I know the general area of where they took her. We have a plan.”

I stared at him, unconvinced. “We?”

He kept his hands in the air. “Ms. Dale sent me! She knows this whole place by heart.”

Ms. Dale? How had she gotten mixed up in this whole equation? I was tired of asking uninformed questions and getting haphazard answers. The feelings on Owen’s face when he’d mentioned Desmond… a look of rage and sorrow… it had looked sincere. I made a decision.

“Owen,” I growled, “you’ve got thirty seconds to explain this whole thing from the beginning. Don’t make me regret not shooting you on sight.”

The young man breathed out, and his face calmed. “Okay. When you guys took the bomb, I managed to get away from the crowds and followed you back to the palace—it was the longest time I’ve ever used the suit successfully, and it hurt like hell.”

I glanced down at the suit he was wearing—it was a Liberator design, the one that worked like active camouflage via invisibility—and then back up at his face, keeping my expression impassive. “Fifteen seconds,” I said, my tone brusque.

“Right. I made it all the way to the queen’s office. And Elena and Desmond were there… together. They were talking to Violet. Elena told her…” Owen hesitated, his eyes filling with pain. “She and Desmond have been working together the entire time.”

I absorbed this. I could feel a puzzle piece clicking into place… and the whole puzzle was bigger than I’d even imagined. Too big to think about right now. Guards could be coming toward us at any time.

“And Ms. Dale?”

“She must have been faking unconsciousness. When the guards took Violet away, Elena, Desmond, and the other princess, Tabitha, went with them… They left only two guards with her. She took them down before they even knew what was happening.” There was a slight look of admiration on his face as he imparted this tidbit.

That made one piece of information by which I was completely unsurprised. That wily old spy. I couldn’t be completely certain he was telling the truth—that Ms. Dale was out there on our side was almost too good to be true—but it was my only lead.

I lowered my gun and started down the corridor. We had to get moving before the guards returned. “Walk and talk,” I snapped. He kept pace with me immediately.

“I knew that talking to her was my only chance if I wanted to escape... Now that I failed her bombing mission, Desmond will… probably have me killed.” Owen looked down for a moment, a private war showing on his mild face. “Ms. Dale went to take the security system down. She said to meet her in the garage and she’ll get us out of here. She sent me to find you and get Violet. She’s worried… she’s worried they’re going to do something very bad to Violet.”

I shook aside the idea that all my fears were being confirmed. Act now. Feel later. I remembered the static screens in the guards’ office, and my belief in the young man rose a little. “How the heck do we find the garage—”

“Ms. Dale said it’s the lowest room of the palace… All we have to do is keep going down.”

I nodded as we kept walking, ducking into an empty room as we heard the clatter of feet coming down the corridor. When they’d safely passed by us, Owen exhaled, and said unexpectedly, “Violet—she punched Elena in the nose.”

I felt a grim smile crack my lips. “Of course she did,” I said, my determination redoubling. “Tell me how to get to her,” I demanded.

“I’m going to show you—”

“Tell me where Violet is, and I will find her. Owen, if you’re on our side, I need you to try to radio Alejandro, the Patrian riverboat captain, and tell him to move the boat.” With a rudimentary escape plan forming, my mind was already leaping to my friend and the two boys on the boat—our only way of getting out of territory that, if Desmond and Elena were truly working together, was incredibly hostile.

Owen blanched. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I lost most of my gear. Without one of Thomas’ secure handhelds, anybody might track that signal.”

He didn’t understand how vital this was. “Then go to the garage without me. If Violet and I can’t get out, you and Ms. Dale have to get to the docks and warn Alejandro to get out of here. I have to save the people I can.”