Kingdom of Scourge and Shadow (The Sightstone Series #1)

Chapter Forty-Three: Max

"I have long observed that the key to a good lie is conviction. If you do not believe your lie–or at least act as though you do–no one else will believe you either. The best lies are therefore the ones rooted in truth."

-On Psychology: The Observations of a Gentlemen at Court, by Lord Orlov the Younger

***

 At first, everything seemed to be going according to plan. Zoya let Max and Jan in through the back door, and they tiptoed past the guard she'd knocked out. Zoya whispered something about his partner and ipecac, which made Jan laugh silently, and they slipped through the embassy halls, past what seemed like dozens of closed doors until they reached a servants' staircase that Zoya led them down.

In the basement, Max couldn't resist gawping a little. Most buildings in Allerstad didn't have basements because of the city's propensity for flooding. But Max supposed that, with a veritable army of Inventors, the Saroviyans would have been able to waterproof their cellar, no problem, even though he didn't see why they couldn't just put their laundry room on the ground floor, like everyone else. Still, at least it helped them out.

Zoya led them to a tiny, dusty, cobwebby store room that looked like it hadn't been used in decades, and pulled a pair of soldiers' uniforms out of a crate. Max shuddered as something brushed against the back of his neck. Please say that wasn't a spider. He hated spiders.

"Get changed," Zoya hissed, shoving a stack of clothes into his arms. "We don't have long. Natalie and Aleksei will be here soon."

Jan was already half-undressed, his shirt and boots abandoned in the crate. He shimmied out of his trousers and yanked on the uniform trousers and shirt. Max stifled a laugh. The shirt was way too big for him.

"Drowning?" Max whispered. Zoya pressed a hand to her mouth, her eyes dancing, but Jan just looked annoyed as he tucked the shirt into the trousers until it wasn't quite so ridiculously long. Max hated to think of how much fabric had to be shoved down his trousers for that to work.

"Just get dressed," Jan said coldly, his expression inscrutable. "You heard Zoya. We're running out of time."

Max rolled his eyes, but stripped off his own shirt and trousers. Neither he nor Jan had worn jackets or coats, knowing they'd just be one more thing to hide. Instead, they'd frozen their asses off waiting for Zoya.

At least his stolen uniform fit, more or less. The sleeves were a little long, and the trousers were kind of tight, but not enough to be noticeable. Luckily, the jacket Zoya had stolen for Jan fit better than the shirt, and it covered up the fact that his shirt was practically a dress.

"Ready?" Zoya asked impatiently, glancing back at the door.

Jan pulled his watch out of his pocket and flipped open the lid. "Ten minutes to go," he said. "We'll have to kill some time."

"Not here," Zoya said. "Too many servants coming and going down here. They'll notice if they see three soldiers where they're not supposed to be. Better to pretend to be standing guard upstairs or something."

"Good point," Jan said as Max tucked his clothes into the crate. "Alright. Let's go."

"Let me just check there's no one out there," Zoya said, and, without waiting for a response, she pulled open the door and slipped silently out into the hall. Max couldn't even hear her footfalls as she disappeared down the hall. Eerie.

"Is she even human?" he muttered under his breath.

"She is," Jan said absently. "Even if she'd rather you didn't remember that, she is."