Page 42
“The lock override must be here,” Zee muttered. “Where else would it be?”
“Hurry.” The prickling sense of unease, that hadn’t fully left, crawled over me again now. Was all of this a bit too easy? Or did it seem like that because Reynard had made it look easy? Where was Reynard? He did have a habit of disappearing at the worst times.
“Fuck fucking fuck. Look what I found.”
I scooted behind Zee, and leaned over his shoulder to read the cascade of emails open on the screen. Emails from: [email protected]. A glance at the spelling made it clear who had written them.
Dont freten me cockscker u hav no fukin idear wot I kan do. i dont ow u fuk. They r min. all of em. I payd ten times theyr werth. fuk of.
I skimmed another message.
U got yer cut. dEALS DONE. Fuk u & yer weredass pize.
The general’s misspelled reply in all caps read:
U OWN NTOHING
“Looks as though the deal was breaking down,” I mumbled. But just because they’d fallen out, didn’t mean the contract was void.
The emails didn’t really help. Although, they did seem to indicate that Sebastien had the confidence to declare the deal over. Why would he think that, unless there was some kind of get-out clause?
Addendum, the general had said. I’d missed its importance, alarmed by his offer of Labrador pie.
They’d modified the contract.
I yanked open the drawer, from where the general had removed the contract earlier in the day. The contract was there, on top. But I already knew what it said. I rummaged beneath it, looking for an addition, amendment, something . . . more.
A crumpled slip of paper lay at the bottom, like an afterthought.
Addendum. Dated: February 2025. Copernicus to Sebastien. The licensee shall hereby renumerate fifty percent of all earnings to the licensor for three years. Terms must be renewed by both parties within three years from the date of this agreement, or all contracts will be voided.
I read it again, slower, making sure I fully understood what the addendum referred to. “Oh my stars.” This was it. This was the jackpot. Sebastien and General Copernicus were due to renew their terms, but Sebastien had gotten greedy and told Copernicus where he could shove his share of the club’s profits.
This tiny slip of paper could free Zee from Sebastien, free all of them.
“Zee, this is—”
An alarm screeched. Red light flooded into the watchtower windows.
“Uh oh.” Zee shot to his feet.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing?” He dashed to the windows.
“You steal my pies, Lycian!” the general boomed.
“I don’t want your pies, you crazy fuck.” Heading for the door, Zee gestured at the computer. “Find the lock override. Save the furbabies. I’ll keep him busy.”
“Zee, wait. Are you going to be alright?”
“Eh, he’s slow. Watch how I get shit done, babycakes.” He flung open the door and stepped into waves of red light. The great arches of his wings shivered into sight behind him, rising up. He sprang off the stairs and was gone.
Something crashed out of sight—probably Zee plowing into the general. It was fine. I just needed to find the lock switch on the computer. I stuffed the addendum into my pocket and dropped into the chair, then maneuvered the pointer on-screen to bring up the camera feed. And there were the pets.
What was I supposed to do? I didn’t use computers. Why wasn’t there a big button that said lock override?!
The window exploded. Bits of glass peppered my mask. I lunged off the chair, behind the desk, avoiding most of the debris, and twisted to find Zee on his back, wings flapping out of sync as he tried to climb back to his feet.
