He shrugged, blushing, both elated and embarrassed by the attention. “She’s nicer than I thought she’d be,” he said to Callum.
“Then you don’t know her yet,” Callum teased. I made a face at him, and he returned it. God, I was glad he was alive.
“Let’s go see Mother,” Callum said to Sonny. Now it was Sonny’s turn to make a face.
“Rather not, thanks,” he said, ducking out of Callum’s embrace. “It was nice to meet you, Your Highness.”
“You can call me Juli,” I told him.
“Nice to meet you, Juli!” he called back as he disappeared around the corner from whence he came.
“He gets to call you Juli after meeting you for two seconds?” Callum said in mock-exasperation. “Unbelievable.”
“What can I say? I like him better,” I said. Callum tugged on a strand of my hair and smiled. Then he sighed.
“Come on, Mother awaits.”
He led me into a cavernous room that was empty but for a throne at the far end. A woman was sitting in it, tapping her heel against the marble in agitation. She was surrounded by a half-dozen bodyguards, all of whom were stiff as rods. It didn’t inspire a lot of confidence.
Queen Marian stood as we entered and watched as we crossed the vast distance between the door and the throne. Callum fell to one knee at the queen’s feet.
“Hello, Mother,” he said. “May I present—”
“Yes, yes, I know who she is,” the queen said. “Stand up, Callum.” She leaned forward as if to examine him, taking his chin in her hand and tilting it this way and that like she was mapping it. “I see there’s been no lasting damage from your exploits.”
“It would appear that way,” Callum said. There was a slight wobble in his voice.
“No thanks to you,” Queen Marian said. She was talking to me. She turned to her bodyguards and summoned them forward with a wave of her hand. “Take her to the Hole.”
“What?” Callum jerked up in alarm. “No, you can’t do that. She’s here with me! She’s my fiancée!”
“Not anymore,” Queen Marian said. “I’ve had quite enough of this whole royal wedding business. It’s very clear that the General never intended for the two of you to marry, or for the peace treaty to be signed. I know how to proceed.”
The bodyguards seized me, one at each arm. “Wait!” I cried. “You can’t do this!”
“She helped me escape, Mother,” Callum protested.
“No, dear, my agents helped you escape,” Queen Marian said. “Take her to the Hole and throw her in a cell with that other piece of UCC filth. I’ll decide what to do with them later.”
The bodyguards dragged me away. I struggled against them, doing all I could to resist, but it was futile. They were far stronger than me. Blood rushed to my face; I could barely hear Callum over the thump of my heart in my ears. He was screaming for his mother to reconsider, but Queen Marian was unmoved.
After pulling a sack over my head, the bodyguards took me down a seemingly endless flight of stairs. After a while I stopped fighting them. We reached the bottom of the stairs and proceeded down a long hallway before we finally stopped. I heard a metal key turn in a metal lock and a set of metal bars creak open. Then I was on the ground, the heels of my hand scraping against the rough cement floor. One of the men whipped the sack off my head, and I found myself in a large cell, harshly lit by fluorescent lighting in the ceiling. I turned sharply and watched them slam the bars shut. I reached up and grabbed them, hauling myself to my feet and banging my palms against them.
“Let me out of here!” I shouted. “I haven’t done anything wrong!”
“It’s useless,” a voice said. “They won’t listen.”
I turned slowly, not quite believing my ears. Against all odds, Thomas was sitting on the lower level of a metal bunk bed, his head hanging in defeat.
“Oh my God,” I cried, rushing to him. I knelt before him, my hands on his knees, but he pushed me away.
“Who the hell are you?” he demanded angrily. Then he recognized me. “Hey, I know you. You’re … you go to my school.”
“Grant,” I breathed. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“Yeah, well, neither can I,” he said, lying down on the bed. After a few seconds, he popped back up. “Wait, what are you doing here?”
That other piece of UCC filth, Queen Marian had said. I remembered something Thomas had told me about Grant. They suspected that he’d been taken into Farnham by Libertas and traded for something, that Queen Marian thought he was Thomas. I didn’t know how he’d gotten into Farnham, but at the very least it seemed as though the last part was true.
“It’s a long story,” I grumbled, falling into a cross-legged position on the floor.
“I’ve got time,” Grant said.
So I told him everything, from the tandem to the analogs to the peace treaty between Farnham and the UCC to Libertas to the arranged marriage between Callum and Juliana. He was silent for a while after I finished. I was afraid I’d scrambled his brain.
“So you’re saying that we’re in a parallel universe? Where there are people who look exactly like us but are not us?” He shook his head. “That’s crazy, Sasha, you know that, right?”
“I’m not crazy,” I told him. “Hello! Look where you are. This is not normal.”
“You’ve got that right,” Grant said. “And you’re saying I ended up here because my … what’d you call them?”
“Analogs.”
“Right. I touched my analog and that’s why I ended up here?”
“Basically, yeah.”
“Okay, but that doesn’t explain why a bunch of armed thugs grabbed me off the street and brought me here,” Grant said.
“Libertas,” I said. “They thought you were Thomas. Your analog. They traded you for something. Do you know what?”
He shrugged. “Not a clue. I was knocked out for most of it. I woke up in here and I haven’t been able to get a single answer out of anybody.”
“That’s not a shock.” Now that all the adrenaline had drained from my body, I was overcome with fatigue. My stomach growled. “Do they feed you in this place?”
“Sometimes,” Grant said. “I’ve been hoping this was all just a very vivid nightmare. Now it’s looking like not so much.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Believe me, I wish it was.”
“So now what?” Grant asked.
“I honestly have no idea.”
THIRTY-SEVEN
Days passed. I kept hoping Callum would find a way to get me out of the Hole, but he never came. I found it hard to keep track of time. Our cell had no windows, and we could only make rudimentary guesses about time of day based on when our bodies told us to sleep and wake up. We’d been fed five times since Queen Marian had her guards throw me into the cell with Grant, but none of them would speak to us, let alone tell us anything useful.
“I can’t believe this!” I cried, slamming my hand against the bars as yet another guard walked away after delivering our meals.
“You’d better eat,” Grant advised. “That soup is barely lukewarm, and it’s no good cold.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“If you don’t want it, can I have it?” Dinner consisted of one small bowl of soup and a hard roll that Grant was trying to soften by soaking it in the broth. It was definitely not enough for a guy like him to subsist on; I was so full of rage I couldn’t bring myself to eat.
“Go ahead,” I said. I sank down against the bars and tucked my knees under my chin. “I just can’t believe I went from one prison to another. This is the biggest load of crap. I’m sick of this place. I want to go home.” I looked up at the ceiling, which was covered in mold. “Do you hear me? I want to go home!”