“No, the fitting was yesterday,” Thomas said in bemusement. Lucas rolled his eyes.
“I used to be so jealous of you,” Lucas said, downing half of Thomas’s orange juice in one gulp. Thomas stared forlornly at his breakfast tray, the contents of which were swiftly disappearing. Lucas’s very presence was growing more and more annoying. Thomas hoped he’d get to the point soon. “But if being an active agent means tea parties and fashion shows all day, forget it. I wouldn’t trade jobs with you if you paid me.”
Oh, yes you would, Thomas thought. He wasn’t fooled by Lucas. He knew his brother would kill to be doing what he was doing, and he didn’t even know about Operation Starling, or the true nature of Thomas’s most recent work. The thought of how envious Lucas would be if he did know warmed Thomas’s heart a little. “What do you need from me, Luke? Money?”
Lucas grimaced. “When have I ever asked you for money?” Thomas opened his mouth, prepared to launch into a long list of examples, but Lucas cut him off with a raised hand. “No, this isn’t about money. It’s about Mom.”
Thomas sighed. “I thought so.”
“She’s fine, by the way. But she misses you. I know you don’t believe it, but she does, and she wanted me to ask you to come out and see her. Again.”
“I will,” Thomas said, concentrating on the remnants of his breakfast in an effort to avoid Lucas’s gaze. It seemed like every time he saw Lucas these days, all he wanted to talk about was what a terrible son Thomas was being, and how it broke Alice’s heart that the youngest Mayhew never made it out to Montauk to visit. But it was more complicated than that, as Lucas knew full well. Alice didn’t care if he came or not; she may have told herself she did, but that was only because not caring made her feel guilty.
“When? I just went out there this weekend. Would’ve been nice of you to come with me.” Lucas eyed him carefully, and Thomas wondered if his brother knew he’d been away. By virtue of their different roles in the KES, weeks could go by without the Mayhew boys getting even so much as a glimpse of each other. But Lucas was acting shiftier than usual, and Thomas had a feeling that for all his scolding, Lucas wanted Thomas and their mother to remain estranged. It guaranteed that at least one of their parents preferred him over Thomas.”
“I’m sort of busy at the moment,” Thomas said.
“What, carrying Juliana’s train?” Lucas scoffed. “Yeah, real important work you’re doing in the Castle there, toy soldier.”
“Hey!” Thomas snapped. “Don’t call me that.” It wasn’t easy to ruffle his feathers, but that nickname got under his skin. “Toy soldier” was what they called recruits at the KES Academy, not active duty agents, and it wasn’t a term Lucas was entitled to throw around in either case.
Lucas put his palms up in a gesture of surrender. “Sorry. You need to lighten up.”
These days, it was as if he and Lucas were only a breath or two away from open hostility. There was nothing Thomas could do about Lucas’s jealousy. He wasn’t about to quit the KES, or fail in order to make Lucas look better by comparison; he couldn’t help who he was, or the fact that he was good at his job. It was a shame, though. There had been a time, not that long ago, when his brother was his best friend, his most trusted confidant. He felt the loss of Lucas’s affection more keenly than he would admit out loud, and he was starting to wonder if they’d ever be close again.
Thomas stood. “I’m going to go get some more food, and then I have to head over to the Castle. So …” He trailed off, waiting for Lucas to pick up on the hint.
Lucas nodded. “It was good to see you, T. Mom’s not the only one who misses you, you know.”
Thomas wanted to believe his brother was being sincere. “I miss you, too,” he replied.
That, at least, was true.
They had moved her the night before, right after the girl came in to clear her dinner tray. It didn’t take long for her to get her things together; she’d brought nothing with her, just the clothes on her back and that which she was hoping to trade for safe passage into a whole new life. They’d tossed her room twice already looking for it, but she wasn’t born yesterday. She kept it hidden in her bra, where they hadn’t yet ventured to check, though she wouldn’t put it past them to try.
The place she’d been before had been some kind of underground bunker, but when they whipped the blindfold off her eyes this time, she saw that she was standing in front of a large and well-maintained farmhouse, in the shade of ten towering oaks, with nothing around for miles but cornfields. That was how she knew where they’d taken her. Well, that and the flag flying from the porch, the black phoenix on the red background. At first she was surprised, but then she supposed they couldn’t exactly fly the Libertas banner, even here.
Her room was in the attic, but it had several windows that let in plenty of light. The place was airy and bright, which, while not up to her usual standards, was a welcome change from the windowless cell they’d been keeping her in before. It was almost peaceful, if she could forget about the armed guards standing on the other side of the door. As soon as she was alone, she swept the room for bugs like Thomas had taught her, but her search turned up nothing; they hadn’t even tried to hide the cameras in the other place. She had to wonder what that meant.
Much as she hated to admit it to herself, she was curious about the state of affairs back in Columbia City. What had the General and the queen done when they discovered her missing? The wedding must have been canceled. Every day she prayed that just because she wouldn’t be marrying the Farnham prince, the treaty and the fragile peace it had brought to the disputed borderlands would remain undisturbed. That was why it was so important to her that her disappearance look like a kidnapping—she needed the UCC to come out of the whole messy affair clean. It was her last gift to her people, perhaps the only one she had ever given them.
She tried not to think about Thomas, except to wonder whether or not he’d gotten her note. He wouldn’t understand, no matter what she said; he was uncommonly steadfast and loyal to a fault, and he would never see why she’d done what she’d done. That was fine; she didn’t need his approval. She just needed to know that she’d done what she could to explain her intentions and make her apologies to her only real friend. It wasn’t enough, but it was something.
Her guards were infuriatingly silent on the subject of what was happening in the world outside her confines, and nobody would tell her when she was going to be allowed to see the Monad. She was starting to wonder if he even existed. It was like they were waiting for something, a perfect moment, but she didn’t know what or when it was coming. Her room at the farmhouse, just like her room at the bunker, was locked from the outside at all times, but at least she could look out the windows. There was a small bookshelf under one of the slanted eaves; she picked out a slim paperback whose spine read Twelfth Night.
“Ugh,” she said aloud. “Shakespeare.” She’d never been much for the Bard, whose work she found difficult and unrewarding. But she opened the book anyway, and started to read; perhaps the new Juliana, the person she was about to become, loved Shakespeare. Maybe it was the next stage in her evolution. People changed, they grew. It was possible she loved Shakespeare and didn’t even know it.
NINETEEN
The Day of Prince Callum, like every other day I’d experienced in Aurora so far, was bright and sunny. I woke up at seven thirty, well-rested considering how insane the day before had been, and completely recovered from my allergic reaction. Last night had been a close call; it should have raised everyone’s suspicions, because they knew Juliana wasn’t allergic to chocolate, and yet they accepted Dr. Moss’s justification without question. Maybe Thomas and Gloria were right; I looked exactly like Juliana, and almost any explanation was more reasonable than the assumption that I wasn’t her.