CHAPTER 31
Making the hiding spot proved less challenging than flying. Beatrix woke in the morning, refreshed and hopeful, but by lunchtime she’d only managed to hover them off the ground, not propel them forward.
Peter thought of a workaround—an invisible cable spanning the room to pull themselves across. But by the time she’d managed to knit one up, she’d hit her limit again. That meant overnighting at least once more before they could attempt an escape. Extra opportunities to be discovered.
As if to underscore that point, Martinelli’s tripwire woke them up after midnight. They huddled together, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. Finally, Martinelli put the shield spell back up, checked the room in case someone had teleported invisibly in—no one had, but that was a tense process—and they dropped off into an uneasy sleep.
She lay in the dark the next morning, pinging between grief over Rosemarie and dread that Morse would catch up to them. Then she saw Peter’s eyes were open, his gaze fixed on the wall.
“Let’s get out of here,” she murmured, trying not to wake Martinelli. “I can’t take any more of this. One trial run, and let’s go.”
“You feel ready?”
“Yes,” she said, trying to sound confident. She was going to have to pull herself into the checkpoint over the head of the guard while he was holding the barrier open, make the cable, then hope that Peter and Martinelli could follow her the next time someone went through the checkpoint.
“Beatrix … how did you get in here in the first place?”
As she hesitated, he said, “Time to explain, don’t you think?”
“OK,” she said heavily. “Fair warning: You won’t like it.”
“Miss Draden was involved, wasn’t she.”
She must have looked as surprised as she felt. His lips twisted into a grim smile, there and gone. “How did she do it?”
“There’s something you need to know first: She transformed her body into a carbon copy of her brother’s. The Frederick you talked to at the party? That was her.”
His eyes went very wide. He opened his mouth to say something, but she leapt in. “Wait—just wait until I’m done.”
When she’d gotten the whole story out—not just how Ella had spirited her in, but what had happened to Ella—shelooked to him for a reaction. His eyes were shut, his mouth pressed into a grimace.
“Peter …” She stopped, questions wrestling to get to the front of the line.Do you believe me when I say she’s not a threat? Are you angry I accepted her help? Is it wrong of me to wish you and the woman who almost killed you could live in peace with each other?
Martinelli shifted, groaned and pushed himself into a sitting position. They would have to save it for later.
“Don’t know about you, but I’d rather be caught at the checkpoint than go through another night like that,” Martinelli said.
Peter nodded. “We were just saying we should practice one more time and go for it.”
“Want to eat something first?” Beatrix asked.
“Nope,” Martinelli said. “If I take one more bite of corned beef, I will retch.”
Peter slid out of their hiding place and gave them both a hand down. Out in the lab, she got them floating in record time. It made her feel steadier. “OK, count down five seconds for?—”
Her mouth stopped moving. Her face, her arms, her legs, every part of her was stuck. She couldn’t cry out. She couldn’t move. Martinelli opened his mouth, brow furrowed, and then he too went absolutely, horribly still.
Morse.
Morse.
“Beatrix?” Peter said from behind her. “Are you—” Then his voice cut off.
In the terrible silence, as she hung deathly afraid in the air, a hand she could not see gripped her wrist, pulled her to the floor and forced a thick liquid down her throat.
Syrupy and sour vinegar. Sleeping draft.
A huge amount.
