Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 117246 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117246 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“But you watched him store the chip.”
“Yes, and telling you where it is violates a vow I made.”
“But covering for me while I search doesn’t?” Wait. Cyrus had taught me to break into the guy’s drawers. Therefore, it stood to reason it occupied a drawer. Duh! Except. “The camera feed will show drawers opening on their own. Someone will understand what’s happening.”
The look he gave me. Lady, please. “Do I always think of everything or not?”
In other words, keep trusting him. I sighed, and leaped into action, using different pieces of my special jewelry to open locks without leaving a smidge of evidence.
“Three minutes,” Cyrus piped up.
I riffled through the contents of a drawer at a swifter clip. A digital reader without a chip. A loaded handgun. A box of ammo. A tin of candies only the upper class could afford. Guess the king had a sweet tooth.
“You could help, you know,” I grumbled.
“Very well. Look harder. Faster. You can do it, Arden. I believe in you,” he deadpanned.
I rolled my eyes. “You are so irritating sometimes.”
“Only sometimes is a vast improvement from always. Is someone falling for me, perhaps?”
Yes! “There’s obviously a safe in here, and you must know where it is,” I hedged. “I get that you aren’t comfortable betraying your dad and everything, but could you give me a hint?”
“Of course. Ready? Here goes. There’s only so many places a safe can be hidden.”
“So irritating,” I reiterated.
“Because I like you, I’ll give you a second tip free of charge. Not everything is what it seems.”
“That’s the story of my life,” I muttered. Think! Chips required minimal space for storing. They were tiny. Could be taped to anything. Or hidden within.
“Two minutes.”
Gah! I opened the ammo box, searched the bullets. Studied the candy tin, on the hunt for—jackpot! A small panel on the bottom, used for reading a fingerprint. More specifically, the king’s personal fingertip. It must be the key to opening the tin.
“Thanks to the gloves, your prints will register as his,” Cyrus informed me. “The greatest difficulty will be the code.” Trusting him once again, I pressed my index finger within the allotted lines.
Numbers lit up, awaiting said code.
“How am I supposed to know—” I sucked air between my teeth. The code. Which I might have. Because Soal had given it to me.
Could it be?
Pressing my tongue against the back of my teeth, I typed in the numbers now flashing inside my head. 80630941507.
My breath caught as I waited. Then, I heard it. A click sounded as the lock disengaged.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
In the end, all will reap a harvest of what they’ve sown.
—The Book of Soal 2.6.2.6
Cyrus straightened with a snap. “You knew the code.” Incredulity drowned out his previous amusement.
Had he not expected me to get this far? No, no. He’d said he wanted to read the chip, and I believed him. “Soal gave it to me,” I admitted, opening the little flap to reveal a lone chip.
“I thought I’d have to walk you through decoding,” he insisted.
See. A perfectly reasonable explanation.
Heart beating like a war drum against my ribs, I freed the tiny device from its prison. Closer than ever to answers. Even still, indecision beat against my brain. Stealing secrets from the king meant prison for life, if not outright death. If he discovered the chip’s absence before tomorrow’s meeting, he’d know who took it, no matter what the camera feed showed. If he didn’t need it before then, I could return it. No harm, no foul. But the risk didn’t swing in my favor.
Cyrus pretended to stroke invisible Arden’s hair. “There’s a replacement chip in your bracelet. When it’s inserted into a reader, it shows all files are corrupted and secretly opens a back door.” He checked his timer. “One minute remains.”
“I love having you in my corner.” Relieved, I fiddled with the bracelet until I found and removed the fake chip. As I’d donned the other pieces, I’d learned one of my new rings acted as a single-shot netter, while the other hid a powdery sedative strong enough to put a hulk to sleep. The hairpin sheathed a small dagger laced with a paralyzing toxin. One of the necklaces could be used as wrist cuffs.
“Any other secrets I’m wearing?” I inquired.
“Many.”
A nonanswer answer. I didn’t push for a list as I switched one chip with the other. “Thank you, Cyrus. For everything.” He’d prepared me for war while doing everything in his power to protect me, exactly as he’d promised.
He gave me a sheepish smile. “My intentions aren’t entirely altruistic. I like having you around.”
I only hoped he’d say the same if the files implicated Cured of wrongdoing.
Sickness stirred in my stomach. I returned the candy tin to its proper place and locked the drawers. Cyrus stood, and as he mimed helping me to my feet, I closed the distance and gave him my hand for real. He led me from the office, my heart thudding harder with every step away from the scene of our crime. Part of me expected someone to leap out from the shadows and inform the whole party of what I’d done.