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  "Patrick," he said, waving to the nearby guards. With footfalls echoing behind him, he parted from Kiki and ran headlong down the Grand Staircase, disappearing from view.

  * * * * *

  The new Royal General rushed through panicked crowds of cooks and custodians, drawing closer to the basement entrance, guards' boots thudding behind him. The faint smell of smoke filled the air as the fumes from the explosion wafted to the upper levels. Damon grasped the butt of his pistol, ready for any Delainians that might be pouring through a wall somewhere. The smoke smell got stronger as he led his men down the custodians' stairs, single file. Haze filled the maintenance hallway, getting thicker as they neared the prison area. Damon pressed against the wall, listening, and indicated for his men to do the same. Eight figures in green pressed against the wall, guns ready, not breathing. No one spoke. If the Delainians were breaking through, they couldn't give away their position.

  Silence. Then, a single voice floated through the haze at them.

  "Oh my god...oh my god..."

  A man's voice, high and terrified. Some of the haze cleared, revealing the door to the prison area, wide open. The florescent bulbs flickered inside, ready to go dead.

  "Soldiers. This way," Damon ordered. It felt so strange to be giving orders to middle aged men. He was so used to taking them.

  But the guards gave no argument. They never would, to their Royal General.

  Damon coughed on the fumes as he entered the threshold to the prison area. Bits of drywall and insulation littered the linoleum floor. Nearby, the lone prison guard sat up against the guard booth, hugging his knees and muttering nonsense into the air in front of him. Across from the guard, the wall had broken apart. No, it had exploded apart.

  A gigantic hole led straight into a dark tunnel lined with mold, plant roots, and dripping moisture, one of the ancient sewer pipes that hadn't been used in decades. It had led straight from the dungeon until Dawn had the place remodeled. The prison guard stared straight into it, eyes huge with horror as if he was seeing something the rest of them couldn't see.

  "What has happened here, soldier?" Damon asked. He could only pray this guy could compose himself enough to speak.

  The soldier brushed pieces of drywall from his hair and stared up at Damon. He seemed to be registering his new green uniform and his badges of rank for the first time. "A...A bomb has gone off, sir. A group of civilians came through the...the wall, took my keys and took the prisoner with him." He hugged his knees tighter and groaned again, eyes darting around the room in terror. "I don't know why I'm like this, sir."

  "Thank you." Damon stood tall, surveying the room. His stomach twisted into a knot. The door to Patrick's cell stood wide open, shining in the flickering light. Whoever had broken Patrick out, they'd gone through the old sewer. They'd known the old sewer was there. They were old enough to know the passage existed. He couldn't let that monster go free, not with Kiki and himself to worry about. "You five," he pointed out the nearest guards, "go after them. Try not to shoot to kill. I want them alive to be interviewed."

  The guards bowed, turned, and disappeared into the old sewer tunnel. The darkness swallowed them up, leaving their footfalls echoing out behind them.

  "Should we take him to the infirmary, sir?" one of the remaining guards asked.

  Damon leaned down to the guard, now shaking with his face in his hands. The bomb blast shouldn't have been enough to terrify him to this point, to paralyze him so much he couldn't even compose himself enough to stand.

  "Yes," Damon said, struggling to speak over the sudden desert that formed in his throat. "It looks like he's been emotion manipulated."

  * * * * *

  When Damon returned to Kiki, he told her the news. The look on her face prevented him from even mentioning the guard he'd found on the floor, emotion manipulated so much he couldn't move. The possibility that Patrick had been broken out of prison by Delainians was bad enough, but the thought of him getting broken out by at least one Emoshi was worse. He wanted that. He wanted to become--

  Kiki turned and stuck her face through the doorway of the Meeting Hall as he went on about the damage to the prison, and how he was sending several soldiers down with mines to make sure no one else came through it. The words felt numb rolling off his tongue. The King and Queen hugged one another, glancing at their daughter...and at him. He knew why. Both of their lives were in jeopardy. Patrick wasn't some Delainian. He was the former Royal General who knew this palace and this city very well. He had money. And now, potentially, one or more Emoshi allies.

  "Sir. Sir!"

  Damon's heart fluttered as he turned away from Kiki. A lone soldier rushed up to him, panting and out of breath from climbing the Grand Staircase.

  "Yes, soldier?"

  "The tunnel, sir," he panted. "The guards returned. It turns out Patrick's rescuers set off another bomb in the sewer, which caved it in. They can't pursue them any further."

  Damon swore and banged his fist on the wall, so hard the King jumped. He never got angry like this, but things changed when your life and the lives of your loved ones were in danger. "We should change location," he said, looking up at Kiki. He couldn't let anything happen to her. She stared back at him, silent, from the doorway, and nodded. "We need a place that Patrick and the Delainians won't think to look for us. I have no doubt they're plotting to take the palace." He imagined Patrick lurking somewhere around the grounds, too insane to give up, too obsessed. "Also, we need to check up on his mansion. I'm worried about the safety of his wife and daughter."

  * * * * *

  Kiki watched the helicopters circle around the top of the palace from the backseat of the car, doing their rounds. The little sedan felt cramped compared to the limos she was used to traveling in, but if they wanted to get out of the palace without the Delainians knowing, it was best to take something that blended in with the working class of Frelladon. No one would suspect the Royal Family was cruising downtown in a vehicle that cost less than twenty grand. If they got lucky, Darren Storm would still think they were hiding in the palace. Damon had ordered the helicopters and soldiers left there for that reason.

  The streets were mostly empty as her father, dressed in plainclothes, turned down Royal Avenue and slowly rolled past towering streetlights and rings of soldiers. The soldiers, by Damon's order, were to pretend that their sedan was nothing important, that they were just civilians passing through the area, trying to find safer ground. They would be in view of the Delainian helicopters as soon as they cleared the avenue, to join the few others who had dared venture out today.

  "Are you sure this was a good idea?" her mother asked, adjusting the neck of her blouse and pushing her sunglasses higher up on her nose. "We have no soldiers following us."

  Damon swallowed, like he wasn't sure. "The Delainians will suspect any vehicle with one of our helicopters hovering over it."

  The fish processing plant slid out of view, leaving a sky filled with low clouds over the Industrial District. Storm clouds. It was very fitting. The sight of it made Kiki's skin prickle and crawl. Helicopters hovered in the sky like giant, black bugs. What if the Delainians could send a storm over to them? She wouldn't put anything past Darren. The man was brilliant and insane at the same time.

  Downtown Frelladon had never looked sadder, even with the skyscrapers towering over them protectively. Papers blew up and down the streets as a sick trickle of traffic moved through the intersections. Police cars and emergency vehicles, mostly. Her father had ordered most people to stay home from work or better yet, leave the city. It seemed like most people had taken the warning.

  Her father pulled into a parking ramp, where a glowing green sign read Spaces Available. The gate went up the moment the King turned the wheel to go inside, and a single policewoman stood inside the tollbooth, waving them past.

  "We weren't followed?" Kiki asked, clutching her pistols tight and searching the rearview mirror. If the Delainians caught their trail, there were few escapes from
the parking ramp. If there was anything she'd learned at the Academy, it was to always stake out escape routes if things got bad later.

  "Doesn't look like it," Damon said, searching the dark expanse of the parking ramp. No doubt, he was doing the same thing.

  Her father parked them in the corner. "Out," he ordered simply. "Ryan and Riley are waiting for us on the top floor of the Keilaran National Bank."

  At first Kiki's mind turned up blank, and then she remembered. One of the emergency hideouts for the Royal Family was on the top floor, windowless and hidden behind the glass logo of the bank, a pair of shaking hands. Her father had showed her pictures of it when she was younger, but she'd never imagined that they would ever have to use it.

  Hands on her holsters, Kiki followed her parents up numerous flights of stairs, listening as her father panted for breath, checking every dark window of every steel door that they passed. The door at the top opened for them, and another police officer stood inside, staring straight ahead as they entered.

  The main entry hall of the Keilaran National Bank stood empty and silent except for the fountain bubbling away in the middle of the room. Another officer stood by the elevator, waiting.

  Kiki's father opened a compartment below the elevator's main controls, revealing a keypad. A password later, the elevator dinged and shot up into the upper floors of the Keilaran National Bank, coming to a stop nearly a minute later.

  The doors slid open on a large room that looked exactly like the meeting hall back at the palace. It had the same glass table, the same plasma screen hanging on the wall, and the same set of leather chairs that Kiki's mother had picked out for it last year. To one side, the strategy table glowed, with bright red models for the Delainian ships and troops and green ones for the Keilaran jeeps. For a moment, Kiki thought they must be back in the palace.

  Damon seemed to have read her thoughts. "If we meet with Darren Storm, he has to think we haven't changed location. Everyone knows what our meeting hall looks like."

  "Good idea," Kiki said as a pair of voices floated out of a wooden door leading to a lounge. Ryan and Riley were already here. Her mom had insisted they be evacuated from the palace earlier that morning.

  Her father took off his baseball cap, revealing the shine of his balding head. "Damon and I need to continue trying to contact Darren Storm," he said, grabbing a remote off the table and turning on the plasma screen. After humming for a minute, a green background with the Keilaran coat of arms filled the screen.

  Kiki looked around the room. "Where are Ashley and Amber? They haven't been brought here yet?" Ashley had returned home after the explosion in the palace basement, probably to get back to Amber and send the babysitter home.

  The King scratched his head, as if he'd only just remembered them. Maybe, with the day he'd had, that was the case. "No. We haven't." He sighed and paced the room, nearly tripping over Damon, who was busy booting up the computer under the table. "They're not far, however. I'll send an officer to go pick them up. It's not a good idea for any of us to go to the Maxwell Mansion at this time, with Patrick free."

  "He may be behind the Delainian lines by now," her mother said. "Those sewers ran to an old waste processing plant in the Industrial District. Oh, dear, you don't think he was--?" she didn't finish.

  "A traitor?" Damon answered for her.

  "Precisely," the King added. "I'm angry at myself for not seeing it sooner."

  * * * * *

  When the police officer didn't return with Ashley or Amber after an hour, Kiki knew something was wrong. It was a feeling down in her gut, slowly rising like floodwater. Maxwell Mansion was a mere five miles from here, in the suburbs. If the two of them had taken off somewhere, the cop would have at least radioed back. She thought of Amber, her eleven-year-old cousin, being held hostage in her own home by Delainians, scared and terrified.

  "Father," Kiki said. "They haven't returned yet. I'm getting nervous."

  He looked up from the blank screen as Damon worked, blinking as if he wasn't sure what time it was. "You're right." He shot up, pressing a button on his radio. "Send backup to the Maxwell Mansion. The officer has not returned yet, and we have no word."

  "Backup?" Kiki let her arms slap down to her sides. "We don't know what's going on inside there. Damon, get some soldiers over there."

  He appeared from underneath the table, wires twisted around his legs. "It would endanger us all. The Delainians must be monitoring the whole city, and it would only attract their attention."

  It had boiled down to this, then. Kiki grasped her pistols, hoping that everyone could see. "Then I'll go with the backup."

  Her mother flinched as if hit. "Kiki, no. It's way too dangerous. We can't be sure that some Delainians haven't slipped through their barriers."

  A shudder stole over her as she remembered the black eyes of the Delainian invaders last night. It was certainly possible, if Patrick's friends had found a way to break him out using the sewers. The city was old. There was a pretty good network of mines and catacombs underneath it, waiting to be explored again. But she couldn't let anything happen to Ashley or Amber, and if that meant going after them herself, so be it.

  Her grip tightened on the handles of her guns. If Patrick was there, she wanted to be the one to put a bullet or two in him.

  * * * * *

  Nobody could stop her.

  Even the two police officers stood out of Kiki's way as she marched out of the elevator, past the fountain of the Keilaran National Bank, and into the back of a police car waiting in the parking ramp.

  She didn't care about the stares the officers gave her as she sat behind the bars of the cruiser. They climbed in, silent, a man and a woman in dark blue uniforms that contrasted with her black tank top and cammo shorts. With luck, she'd look like an arrested looter as they drove across Frelladon and into the suburbs. Delainia wouldn't care about that. This wouldn't have been this easy to pull off if she'd worn her dress. But that was lying back at the palace, ripped up, thanks to Patrick.

  The suburbs were still quiet, like Ashley had described that morning. Houses grew larger and larger the closer they drew to Frelladon University. Gates shut in some of the larger ones, including Maxwell Mansion up ahead. The house towered over its shrubs and palm trees, like a giant, modern pueblo.

  "We recommend you wait outside, Your Highness," the driver said, pulling up behind a second cruiser sitting front of the brass Maxwell gate with the lights off. Before Kiki could protest, he pressed a button on his radio. "Officer Madison, do you copy? Have you found the residents yet? Our princess here is worried sick about her cousin."

  Silence filled the car for a long time. Then, the radio crackled to life, and the voice of another man came through. "Yes. I'm in the house. I apologize for being late. There were looters I needed to clear from the property. Ashley and Amber are not here." he paused. "I would like some assistance searching the house."

  The second officer, the same policewoman who had been guarding the parking ramp, looked back. "It looks like you should come with us, in that case. Otherwise, you will have to wait out here in the car.”

  "I can handle myself," she said, climbing out of the backseat. To make her point, she seized the handles of her guns once again. She might as well try to dig up some evidence on Patrick, if she was going to be here for a while.

  Both officers nodded and led the way through the open gate. There was no messing with her, and they knew it.

  The door in the garage was unlocked. That made sense, if the officer had come through already. Kiki opened it with a creak and stepped into the Maxwells' kitchen.

  It looked so dim, so empty, so sad. Ashley had no doubt sent all her employees home to their families this morning.

  Kiki's footfalls echoed off the polished linoleum as she led the officers deeper into the house. Somewhere, a clock ticked away in the empty space as a portrait of the Maxwell family stared at her from over the dining room table. Patrick stood with Ashley against a gray background,
with Amber in front of them both, smiling. Or was it grimacing, like she didn't want to be there? Kiki had to suppress an urge to take out a pistol and shoot Patrick's photo between the eyes. "Son of a bitch," she whispered.

  Neither one of the cops responded as they moved into the spacious living room. "We should split up," Kiki said, staring at all the family photos with Patrick in them, as well as a framed Medal of Fortitude on the wall. Patrick's medal from the Lateine Border Skirmish, years ago, next to the plasma television. The sight of it sickened her. He sure didn't deserve it now.

  "You're right, Your Highness," the policewoman said. "I'll search the basement. Perhaps we can find some evidence that will assist you in his trial."

  Kiki glanced up the stairs, to where shadows filled the spaces between doorways. "I'll go and search his personal study." She nodded to the male officer. "You can search this level. We still need to find the other officer and see if he's found anything. Radio me if you do."

  Surprisingly, she didn't run into the other officer as she climbed the steps and made her way down the carpeted hallway of the upper floor. Skylights let beams of sunshine down into the space. Dust swirled through the air as she passed vases, more family photos, and potted plants. Just the shuffling noise of an officer going through something downstairs, probably the coat closet, met her ears.

  The sunlight reflected off a bronze plaque on the last door of the hallway. Patrick's private study. He always had that sign on there: Do Not Disturb, and whenever he was home, he was in that study, according to Ashley and Amber both.

  Kiki's phone buzzed. "Yes?" she answered.

  Riley's voice came through. "Kiki, Ashley and Amber are safe with us. Ashley just called to find out where we were at. Turns out they left the house an hour ago, tried to get to the palace, and were turned away by the guards. You might want to head back." The tone of her sister's voice betrayed her worry.