Four Dead Queens(89)

I nearly dropped the scalpel in shock when Varin walked in, followed by several palace guards.

No! “Let him go!” I cried.

Varin’s face was blank as he nodded to me. “Yes. That’s her.”

Before I had time to react, the guards surrounded me. One jerked my hands behind my back and clamped shackles around my wrists. I hid the scalpel up the sleeve of my dermasuit.

“What are you doing?” I asked. “What’s going on, Varin?”

He shook his head, unwilling to speak, his expression heavy with emotion. Emotion he shouldn’t feel.

“Keralie Corrington of Toria,” one of the guards said. “We are arresting you for the assassination of Queen Iris, Queen Stessa, Queen Corra and Queen Marguerite. Your sentence will be determined at a later date.”

“What?” I shrieked, whirling around, pulling against my shackles. “I haven’t hurt anyone!”

“Well, that’s not entirely true, is it?” a familiar voice asked.

Mackiel walked into the room and stood beside the inspector. Although I’d known he was involved, my heart skittered in my chest like a frightened rodent. I wanted to flee. I wanted to scream. And I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Mackiel and I both within the palace, like in our childhood games. But there was nothing childlike in his expression.

His brow was heavy over his kohl-lined eyes, his gaze piercing. The smoky smell was evident even through his bandages.

I swallowed. “Okay, I admit I hurt him”—and he deserved it—“but I didn’t kill the queens.” I jerked my chin at Mackiel. “He’s your assassin!”

The inspector shook his head. “Mackiel only arrived early this morning. The queens were already dead.”

That couldn’t be true. Mackiel had to be behind this. Where were his henchmen? Gone now that the deadly deeds were done?

“But you said yourself he’s a wanted criminal!” I said. Mackiel always said the palace knew his face and name. That was why he made me steal for him whenever we were near the Concord.

“You said that,” the inspector replied. “After you made claims against him to Queen Marguerite, I requested he come to the palace. He has been very helpful, and he has cleared his name.”

Of course! Another lie. Another game. The palace knew nothing about Mackiel. But why did he pretend they did? Was it merely to make me do his bidding?

Mackiel quirked an eyebrow, a twist at the edges of his full lips. “I wish I could say it’s good to see you, darlin’, but under these circumstances”—he lifted a narrow shoulder—“it’s rather a shock to hear what you’ve done in my absence.”

“What I’ve done?”

“Why don’t you tell Keralie what you told me,” the inspector said to Varin, who hadn’t moved from the doorway.

My legs trembled. No. It’s not possible. Not Varin.

“I have proof,” Varin said, avoiding my eyes.

“Proof?” I asked. “What are you talking about? The rerecorded comm chips?” Someone tugged at my wrist.

“I’ve got it,” the guard said from behind me.

I twisted around to see he’d pulled my dipper bracelet from my wrist. He handed it over to the inspector, who broke one of the lockets free. It was the charm Mackiel had given me when I’d successfully broken into the home of the Torian governor, who claimed to be above the Jetée and the pleasures it had to offer but was known to spend all his spare time drinking and gambling. It was the job I’d done two weeks before Mackiel had asked me to steal the comm case from Varin.

The locket was a small silver bottle.

“I don’t understand—” I began, but the inspector twisted the top of the locket with his narrow fingers. The tiny bottle stopper popped off in his hand. “I didn’t know it did that.” I wasn’t sure who I was talking to anymore.

The inspector held the locket upside down. “The guards don’t check for jewelry.” A few specks of powder fell from the tiny bottle lip. “The perfect place for hiding poison.”

“No,” I said, jerking my head at Mackiel, whose blue eyes were wide with mock surprise. “He gave that to me. I didn’t know it opened!”

“And what about this?” the inspector asked. He pulled off a tiny book charm. He flipped it open and a flame sparked inside.

“No,” I said again.

The inspector continued pulling off the other lockets, his black eyes narrowed, including my lock pick and the locket in the shape of a comm case. He placed them on the bench and began shifting them around.

I didn’t understand what he was doing until the lockets began snapping together like a puzzle. It formed a blade—a very narrow blade, with the comm-case-shaped locket as the base of the handle and the lock pick as the sharp tip.

“I didn’t know it did that either,” I said softly.

The inspector took one long slash to the air with the newly formed weapon. “Quite a deadly blade you’ve got here.”

I pulled roughly against my binds. “He did this!” I shrieked at Mackiel. “I work for him! He gave me each locket! He was the one who killed the queens!”

Mackiel simply looked at Varin. “Varin? Some clarity here, please.”

My eyes snapped to Varin. Don’t tell me you betrayed me. Not to Mackiel. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. I trusted him!