Queen of Thieves

chapter 8

Alice wasn't great at first impressions.

She had only attended a handful of parties in her life, and most of the time, it was because she was planning to rob them. She stuck to herself at school. Generally speaking, Alice only socialized with her family, Patrick and Cole, and a crazy woman who mowed her lawn with a glass of red wine. And she liked it that way.

But now, Alice wondered if maybe she should have practiced more.

Bea was still glaring at her with fiery hands.

"Er." Alice glanced at Des desperately. "I don't—" 

"Her eyes," he said quickly. "Bea, look at her eyes."

Cautiously, Bea leaned forward.  "By the Sage." She sucked in a sharp breath. "You'd better come in."

Alice followed her into a grand entrance hall. The morning dawn filtering through the ice must have been an illusion, Alice realized, because the inside was lined with white wood. Tall pillars shot towards the ceiling, and a mass of crystal blue water was swirling above her, as light as arctic waters. A chandelier shaped like a bone-white shell was suspended from its depths.

Bea led them up a large sweep of stairs, and Alice could hear Des filling Bea in on the night's events. Her face was white as she listened.

"Bastard," she spat, coming to a stop at the top of the steps. "I knew Fotea was greedy, but I never thought that he would—" She broke off, her hands trembling. "How did Aqzia take it?"

"I don't know." Des sounded tired. "I haven't seen her yet."

"She wasn't with you when the alarm sounded?"     

Des shook his head. "She was with Fotea."  

At that, Bea's face tightened, but she didn't make any noise. They had stopped in front of a set of open French doors leading out to a balcony made of ice, and the warm breeze ruffled the red strands that had escaped from Bea's ponytail. She shifted the young boy to her other hip. Her hands tapped a nervous rhythm on his back.

"Have you tried contacting her?"

Des nodded, taking out the clear object that Alice had seen in the stables in Shimasor. It looked less like a cellphone, now that she was seeing it properly; it reminded her more of a tablet. Or a small mirror.

"I sent Aqzia six messages," Des told Bea.

"And she didn't answer?"

"No."

There was a pause. Bea nibbled her bottom lip.

"Des," she said finally. "I know you must be tired, and I hate to ask, but—"

"It's fine." Des smiled faintly, ruffling her hair. "I can go look for her." His blue eyes met Alice's. "Will you be okay on your own for a few hours? You won't terrorize any more fish?"

She gave him a tired smile. "Only if I get hungry."

Des shook his head. "Bea, get her something to eat before she eats all of the palace animals." His white wings snapped out, ripping his white tunic in half. Then Des took a running leap, plunging off of the balcony. Alice watched as he twisted into the sky, the early morning light coloring him in pale pink and burnt orange.

"Show-off," Bea muttered.

Alice looked at the ruined shirt in amusement. "Does that really happen every time?"

"No," Bea sighed, looking glumly at the remains. "Most Mishtari have shirts with slits for their wings, but Des has always been dramatic." She scooped up the discarded fabric with a long-suffering sigh. "Come on; let's get you some food."