Lumiere: The Lumiere Trilogy, #1

By Belinda Stott

In Lumiere, nothing can be trusted…

Juniper has always lived under the oppression of Terminalle city—its continual darkness, deadly Python virus and violent ruler Lucius, who is obsessed with her. When she learns there may be a virus cure in neighboring Lumiere, she vows to do whatever it takes to obtain it for those she loves. That begins with convincing the mysterious Saxon to include her in the annual trip to the cult city.

But Lumiere proves darker than Terminalle, for its tyrannical leader Alaric intends to use Python to kill his opponents in both cities, and Juniper is part of his plan. A deadly maze-run, attempted assassinations and brain-washing ceremonies are just the beginning; Juniper must stop Alaric or lose everyone she cares about.

From the city riddled with death to the cult that demands complete allegiance, Lumiere delivers peril, deceit, and nail-biting moments, as its heroes fight to stop Alaric, cure Python and discover the truth about the God Alaric misrepresents.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Belinda Stott
• Release date: Sep 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201480097

Belinda Stott

Belinda Stott is a novelist, counselor and international speaker. With her husband Matt, she runs a course called Soul Tour which combines psychology, philosophy and theology to help young adults better understand their own mind, emotions and behavior.  A prolific traveler (81 countries and counting), Belinda reads obsessively, loves fairs, Jacuzzis, castles and feisty heroines, and watches movies which inspire her to create high-stakes stories that visit other worlds and kingdoms. She is particularly passionate about sagas that bypass the mundane to explore what God and life are really all about, describing her style as a blend of spy stories like 24, Alias and the Bourne novels, with a sprinkle of Narnia and the intensity of a Ted Dekker novel. Belinda lives in Christchurch, New Zealand with Matt and their two creative, adventurous kids, Jasper and Scarlett, (who cameo in Kainnan: The Uncovering).  Find out more about Kainnan and Belinda's upcoming, cult-based trilogy at Belindastott.com.

Book preview

Prologue

Lucius was enjoying a caviar canapé and a glass of champagne when the phone rang. It was the emergency line, accessible only to a select few advisors. He had barely got out, Yes, what is it? before Arden exclaimed, It’s Van. You better come quick.

What is it? he demanded again, heading for the door. Van was his best scientist, which meant Van had become his only scientist. To maintain control over his city, Terminalle, Lucius had rid himself of the others so no one else could replicate the virus. Python, the people called it, for the way it killed—by swelling internal organs until its victims were effectively crushed to death—though its official name was Mezvrases Mivirus: ‘Colt’s killer,’ after his father.

"He’s overridden the locks on the door and there’s been noise, a lot of noise in there," Arden was saying.

Well, break the door down!

"We’re trying, but you know how strong it is. ... Sir," he added belatedly.

"Try harder! I’m nearly there." Lucius hung up and started sprinting.

The door was beginning to crack when Lucius burst around the corner and skidded to a halt just behind the battering ram. He paced, impatient, as two of his guards swung at the door twice more. He shouldered one of the men out of the way to have a turn himself, bashing the door three more times. His heart was racing at the exertion and the complete silence within the lab between swings. On the fourth try the door gave, the top shaking loose from its hinges. They hit it twice more; then they were in.

Two guards went in first, guns drawn. Lucius drew his, too. When the men stood back and lowered their weapons, he followed. What he saw filled him with dread.

The lab was a mess: broken glass thickly coating the floor; three piles of burnt papers filling the air with eye-watering smoke; four computers gutted, their innards spilled helter-skelter; every single piece of equipment smashed. Worse, the secure cabinets were wide open, the stockpiles of Python gone.

No, not gone. Poured into the disposal unit, the empty vials piled all around it. 

Across the lab, Lucius spotted Van, slumped over his desk. He picked his way there through smashed glass, already dreading what he would find. He ignored Arden’s warning not to touch the scientist and grabbed Van’s hair, yanking his head back.

Definitely dead, his eyes open but sightless.

There was a fine coating of yellow granules around the scientist’s mouth. He didn’t need to have it tested to know Van had killed himself, however. The note Van had been writing, his hand still clutching the pen in a death-grip, made that obvious enough: I can’t live with what I’m doing any longer. You’re never going to let me create a cure and Terminalle needs to be free of Python you monster.

That insult was clearly addressed to Lucius. Then came the part that instantly enraged him. I know my wife and daughter are already dead. You have done your worst—I will work for you no longer.

How had Van learned that the pictures of his family shown to him once a week had all been taken at the same time? Just staged, with varying outfits to make them appear chronologically different. Who had betrayed Lucius to tell Van that? Had the Resistance somehow got to him? But how could they, or anyone else, possibly get to Van, when he and his laboratory were in the most secure location in all of Terminalle, buried underground, behind layers of security?

When Lucius discovered that, the traitors would join Van in the ground.

That didn’t solve his more immediate problem. Had Van destroyed all the virus?

He shoved his way past his scientist to check the secure vaults. Though he was the only one with access to them, he was suddenly terrified that Van had somehow managed to get in there anyway. But after he entered the complex code, offered his finger for the fingerprint scan and dragged open the heavy steel doors, he collapsed in relief. They were pristine—rows and rows of Python, with the most special vials of all still hidden innocently amongst them.

An hour later, he felt less relieved. He and Arden had confirmed that Van had destroyed everything else: the component substances used to make Python, all of the scientist’s notes, the complex formula on his computer—which had been wiped of all data and history—and all backups.

For the first time, Lucius regretted not storing the virus formula somewhere himself. He hadn’t dared risk it being stolen. Other than Juniper’s friendship, it was the most valuable thing he possessed, the key to maintaining his power over thousands of Terminalle citizens.

He had assumed no one could get to Van, though.

Still, surely a great scientist could duplicate the remaining stockpiled virus. He had no scientists left, but Lumiere apparently had one. From what his spies had told him, Estiana was extremely talented. And the planned trip to Lumiere was approaching rapidly.

He would have Estiana kidnapped and brought to him. Her presence would ensure his continued reign.

SAXON, THEY’RE WAITING for you. A female voice cut through his reverie.

I’ll be there in a minute, Saxon replied.

He listened to her retreating footsteps, then rose and walked to the nearest window. As usual, there wasn’t much to see outside. A dark street, shuttered homes, his neighbor’s pathetic attempt at a vegetable garden—without any natural light it produced stunted, often abnormal-looking produce.

That word summed up Terminalle, really: abnormal. Many people died young because of Python, never reaching their full potential. The constant darkness caused by the huge, metal dome-roof covering the entire city kept them all pale and sickly-appearing, though many used fake tan and tanning beds illegally imported from the outside world. And over time, Lucius’s rule had produced a permanent cloud of fear over the entire city. There was an undercurrent of anxiety that never really went away.

Life in Terminalle wasn’t normal, and he had really, really had enough of it.

And now, with Van dying, robbing them of the hope of a cure for Python, things felt even darker, if that was possible. Yes, Van had smuggled his research to them before suiciding, but without the scientist’s help to develop it further, it wasn’t much use to them. Which meant it was time to act instead of just talking about it.

That was why Saxon was reluctant to leave this brief sanctuary and join the group waiting for him. Because when he did, they would move forward with their plans and everything would change. Which meant everything was about to become a lot more dangerous.

He was both finally ready for that—and terrified.

1 Stalker

Someone was watching her. It had taken Juniper far too long to realize that, because she was so deep in thought about Lucius, or more precisely, her mother’s warning about him.

Vasia usually kept her concerns to herself, but that afternoon she had warned her daughter to spend less time with the city’s ruler. But how can I? Juniper had demanded. He throws people in his cells on a regular basis for disobeying him.

You know he’d never do that to you, her mother snapped back. He’s too obsessed with you.

What Juniper had thought, but not said, was that if Lucius decided to become her jailer, he’d have more access to her, and whenever he wanted. Something she had no desire to encourage under any circumstances. Her mother’s words, amid her own frustration at being trapped, had driven her to the library. Not home, because Lucius had cameras there.

The library sprawled across half a block with floor-to-ceiling windows, despite the pointlessness of that. There was no decent view because this part of Terminalle had few streetlamps, leaving the park opposite shrouded in constant darkness. Most of the library books were useless, too: violent, sexual, disturbing. One of Juniper’s victories had been convincing Lucius to allow Johanna, the head librarian, to buy a small selection of less R-rated literature. That the forty books Lucius had permitted were constantly out on loan signaled how hungry people in Terminalle were for something more wholesome than the life Lucius had given them.

Juniper was currently sitting in that section, while the watcher was in the worst, among the books she had pleaded with Lucius to ban. He was only half hidden, obviously not overly concerned about being noticed. Or perhaps that was the point; he wanted to intimidate her.

She twisted around in her seat, letting her hair fall forward like a long, dark curtain to hide her face so she could study him through it.

He carried an impression of power, of anger. Of violence barely contained. That was nothing new in Terminalle. The city was full of unhappy, angry, violent, repressed people. People who wanted out but couldn’t leave because of Python. People who thought she could somehow provide them a way out because of her access to Lucius—or judged and despised her because she didn’t.

The watcher had a shaved head, like Lucius, but whereas it made Lucius seem taller, more menacing, on this man it didn’t look quite right, diminishing him somehow. He was well built though—thickly muscled arms, big shoulders, solid-looking legs. Had she seen him before? No, she would recognize those pale blue eyes anywhere.

Everyone in Terminalle wore contact lenses. Night-vision ones, enabling them to see more clearly in the constant darkness encasing the city. Most chose to use them to change their eye color, too. Blue was the least popular choice, being far too normal. Juniper was one of the few who hadn’t bothered altering hers. Her gray-blue eye color was all her own.

It annoyed her that the watcher was here, in this sanctuary, invading her space. She volunteered here three or four times a week, to give her a reason to hang around. She didn’t need money; Lucius provided everything she needed and wouldn’t allow her to take a job. The times she had tried to get one, they had let her go, quickly and fearfully, so that she knew it was because of him. Lucius ignored her work at the library, though, perhaps because he knew she wouldn’t back down on this.

Some of the librarians had become friends—her only friends, other than her cousins Romain and Alice. The odd times she made another one, they abandoned her the moment they worked out who she was and her connection to Lucius. Which was why she felt so angry that this man was here in her space, staring at her.

She was considering getting up and leaving when the watcher smiled suddenly, at her. It was unpleasant. He knew she was studying him, too!

But then he walked away, and with that, the tension left her body. It was nothing after all.

She pushed the encounter aside then and wrote for several hours. For years, she had been writing down all the emotions and the resistance she couldn’t express directly. Her novel was taking shape nicely, fueled by her constant desire to escape her own miserable reality. Storm, her heroine, got to do everything she didn’t couldn’t: stand up to an evil dictator ruling her world, fight for truth, fall in love. Storm had purpose to her life. Storm had everything Juniper didn’t. Storm was everything Juniper wasn’t.

Juniper wrote until Johanna came to tell her she was heading home. Then she handed her friend the pages she’d written, with the usual plea to keep the manuscript hidden and not tell a soul about it. Johanna responded as she always did, too, hugging Juniper and promising to guard it with her life. 

It was late when Juniper left the library. Not that it mattered, because night and day were mostly irrelevant in Terminalle. Normally she didn’t mind walking home alone, but tonight, much as it irritated her to admit it, she felt more unnerved than usual by the watcher. Perhaps it was because of how blatant he had been. Normally they were more subtle, no doubt afraid she would report them to Lucius.

She chose the most direct route home, in a hurry to reach her other sanctuary. Rather than backtracking all the way to Lucius’s palace, then circling through one of the neutral passages to enter her own sector, this path took her through one of the sectors she usually avoided. First came sector four, the housing district, full of families, couples and the elderly, and safe enough. But then there was sector five, Moretti Family territory. They ran the drug and weapons trades, as well as importing most of the food for Terminalle that couldn’t be grown or manufactured within its walls. They had influence in sectors six and eight, too, and were best avoided.

Indeed, substantial parts of the city’s nine sectors tended to be off-limits unless you had some kind of association or arrangement with the group, family or person ruling the area. Most people lived and moved within the sector they belonged to, travelling through the others only when absolutely necessary.

Other than the Resistance of course, who had no single base and offered protection to any who asked for it, while stirring up trouble constantly. They were both the safest and the most dangerous group to align with. Safest because they never harmed their own. Dangerous because, while Lucius manipulated or more directly ran all nine sectors, the Resistance were at the top of his hit-list. That was why she had never dared contact them herself, because he watched her too closely.

Tonight she wished she had some specific protection, other than that implied by her association with Lucius. Tonight she wished she had had the courage to contact the Resistance. She had always been too afraid to risk Lucius’s ire—or their potential rejection because of her connection to him.

She had nearly made it through one of the worst areas in sector five—an area where the streetlights were usually purposefully broken, thickening the dark further, where barbed wire, guns and guard-towers were normal—when she heard footsteps. Steady, matched to hers. When she stopped and spun, they stopped too. It was too dark to see who it was, but the fact that they didn’t reveal themselves made her nerves notch up a level.

Who’s there? she called.

Silence.

She picked up the pace, listening hard while she calculated the fastest, safest way home. The footsteps resumed, keeping time with her.

She saw a curtain twitch as a woman stared briefly out at her from a lit room. It looked safe in there, but around here you never really knew what dark things might be happening behind closed doors.

There was a short cut to her house behind Commons Hospital, where the poor went for the scant treatment available to them once Python began killing them. At this time of the night, the sprawling, tree-filled grounds were usually empty of patients; those lucky enough to receive a bed were locked away inside till the morning. The grounds were deceptively quiet, because this spot was renowned for the drug-deals that took place there. Last time she cut through, she’d witnessed two men laughing at a woman pleading for more drugs. Even in the dim light, the woman’s red, swollen limbs were clear indicators that Python was soon to kill her—if the dealers didn’t. Thankfully, Juniper had slipped past the trio unseen.

If someone attacked her there, she’d have no chance. But it cut the time to her house considerably, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep it together.

Yet it seemed there was nothing to fear after all. The sound of footsteps disappeared after she launched herself rapidly across the most exposed area at the back of the hospital. She arrived home without hearing them again.

She made herself a salad for dinner. Knowing she was infected with a potentially lethal virus made her feel unhealthy all the time. The sensation was psychological, not physical, because Python wasn’t affecting her too much at the moment. Lucius had her checked out by his best doctor regularly, and he always asserted that Juniper was extremely healthy.

Healthy, that is, other than the normal effects of the virus they all suffered: sporadic headaches; occasional trouble with her vision; vivid dreams and even more vivid hallucinations if she caught a fever; swollen fingers, toes or throat, and regular bouts of exhaustion. Lucius’s doctor never commented on any of that; just proclaimed her in excellent health. "Physical health?" Juniper had asked innocently the last time. The doctor had looked terrified by the question, not daring to touch on Juniper’s mental health.

At least eating salad made her feel a little more in control of her life and her choices.

She wandered around her house idly after eating. As usual, she was bored, restless and melancholy. Maybe she should visit Romain? But that would require being out there alone again. Besides, her cousin had been out of sorts the last few times she saw him, worried about his niece, Lucy, who was currently sick. No, she would stay in tonight and visit Romain in daylight.

Something, maybe lingering nerves, made her pull back a curtain to study her front yard. And there he was: the man from the library, standing at her gate and looking straight at her.

Juniper gasped and shrank back, horrified. Few people knew where she lived, because Lucius acquired a new house for her every five months. She suspected he stole the houses, evicting people as he pleased, but she didn’t dare bring it up. This man must have followed her here!

What to do was the question. Followed closely by the question of what the man wanted. Perhaps he was actually harmless, and she was overreacting?

But no, there was something menacing about the way he had stared at her in the library.

It was obvious he had seen her. He was very still, totally focused on the window where she had unintentionally revealed herself. After a few moments, he lifted one hand, slowly, giving her plenty of time to see his fingers form into the shape of a gun, pointed straight at her.

Then he walked away.

In the end, Juniper took a sleeping pill to get some rest. She had locked and checked and rechecked every door. She had also run through every option of whom she could call, abandoning them all one by one. Her mum was house bound. By choice, not necessity, but still she doubted Vasia would come to her. She didn’t want to encourage Lucius by calling him. Romain didn’t answer his secret phone. That was a little unusual, but perhaps he was preoccupied helping his sister nurse Lucy. Though she loved the librarians, she didn’t know them well enough to ask them to come over. Even Johanna, her favorite.

Eventually Juniper prayed and went to bed. With Lucius’s ban on religion in Terminalle, prayer had always felt dangerous, and she still wasn’t sure if she really even believed in a God who would let such an awful place as Terminalle exist. Mostly, though, praying reminded her of her mother’s constant devotions,  making her feel calmer and more hopeful that there was some point to this life she was living.

Prayer didn’t calm her enough to sleep, however. That was what the sleeping pill was for. And the gun under her pillow.

A sound woke her. Clapping hands, of all things.

She opened her eyes to three men staring at her. Two with masks, one of them the man from the library. The sight was so shocking and disorienting, she left it too late to go for her gun. By the time she reached for it, they were already yanking her from the bed and dumping her on the floor so she had to look up at them. One took the gun, and it joined the other two already pointed at her.

Get up, the man from the library spoke for the first time.

Who are you? What do you want? she managed to get out as she scrambled to her feet. She couldn’t move far with the bed at her back.

You can call me Rob, he replied. Obviously not his real name.

Or could it be? He certainly wasn’t hiding his face. Was he not afraid of what Lucius would do when the ruler caught him?

What do you want? she asked again, tightly, to control the shaking inside her.

Rob laughed. She’s a bit stupid, isn’t she? he asked. The other two didn’t reply. Rob took a step forward and gripped her chin. He tilted her head and placed the gun against the soft, exposed skin under her jaw. What does everyone in Terminalle want? he demanded.

It was obvious. She just didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of saying it. But he smiled at her silence and started grinding the gun into her throat. Well?

You want a cure for Python, she acknowledged reluctantly. You think I can get Lucius to give it to you. Or you think I have it already.

He released her and took a step back. She put her hand to her throat, discovering blood where the gun had broken her skin. Her jaw was aching from the pressure he had placed on it. He was watching her with silent menace, waiting for more.

Even if he had it, he wouldn’t give it to you. Not even for me, she said.

Oh, I think he would. We know how much he values you.

Not as much as the power Python gives him, she said honestly. She knew she would have to explain that comment to Lucius later, after he had watched the footage, but she couldn’t afford to worry about that now. She did shift slightly, so Rob was forced to move into a better position for the cameras.

We’ll have to give him more of an incentive, then. Rob nodded and another man stepped forward. She couldn’t see his face behind the mask, just his eyes, which were a bloodthirsty red, a favorite color with gangsters. He was fast, hauling back and slugging her in the stomach so quickly she didn’t see it coming. She collapsed against the bed, struggling to draw breath. The pain was excruciating. She found her breath again and tried to straighten, but this time he hit her in the chest, so hard it threw her half across the bed.

When her breath returned, she screamed. She tried to scramble over the bed towards the panic button, but someone had her legs, dragging her back towards him. She was forced to her feet again, held tightly, with her arms twisted up behind her back. Her chest was on fire, making it hard to think.

There are worse things we could do, Rob said, conversationally, when she focused on him again.

The implication terrified her. He saw it in her face and smiled. He nodded at the man holding her, who forced her into a sitting position on her bed. Now talk, or I’ll let Zak loose on you.

The tightening of Zak’s hold on Juniper made her think Zak was his real name and he hadn’t wanted it revealed. Rob didn’t seem to care. He took a seat on her sofa and waited expectantly.

That was when it dawned on Juniper that they might kill her. The fact that Rob didn’t mind her seeing his face—how could they let her live when she could at least identify him for Lucius?

She had to cooperate. She had to buy time for someone to check her security cameras and see what was happening. Or she had to find a way to get to one of the panic buttons that were in every room. She put extra reluctance into her words. There’s a treatment in the water supply. It suppresses the effects of Python but doesn’t cure it completely. That’s why we die if we leave Terminalle for too long. You can’t take enough water with you to last.

Come on, you’ll have to do better than that. Everyone’s heard that rumor.

It’s why we ration water.

No, we ration water because the cover prevents fresh water getting in.  

Juniper shook her head. That’s what Lucius wants you to think. Our water is precious because it’s such a difficult process to keep recycling it and keep the treatment strong enough in it. She could see they still didn’t believe her. Didn’t want to believe her, because a vial of something that would cure them would be much more convenient. She explained, There’s a natural spring to the north of the city behind sector one. A little of it is used to clean the water. It would be enough to give us as much water as we need, but then the treatment would get too diluted and we would all die.

There was a long silence as they took her words in, studying her. One of the masked men spoke first, asking, What should we do, boss?

Rob made his mind up abruptly. She obviously needs more incentive to tell the truth.

It is the truth! Juniper exclaimed.

Rob ignored her. Take her to the kitchen and tie her up. Find me some good, sharp knives. I’ll search her room.

Zak marched her through the house without pausing, leaving her wondering how he knew the layout. When they reached the kitchen he shoved her into a chair and ordered, Don’t even think of moving.

I won’t move if you say hello to Lucius, she said, pointing directly at the most obvious camera.

Zak laughed. Nice try. The cameras are off. Do you think we’re amateurs?

Her heart sank at that. But at least she had him talking. That had to be good. Who are you? Are you with a gang? Resistance?

He actually lifted his mask at that and spat on the floor. The Resistance lost their teeth a long time ago.

Ex-Resistance, then, she guessed and was rewarded by sudden tension in his body. He turned away, perhaps to compose himself. The other one was searching her kitchen drawers, pulling out knives. It might be her only chance, so she took it. She slid off the seat and ran for the door.

Zak caught her before she made it through, slamming her against the wall. But it didn’t matter, because she’d triggered the panic button behind the fridge. Relief flooded her. Then a fist connected with her face and everything turned dark.

2 Coma

Claudine was finally online. Romain checked the hallway once more to make sure his nosey sister, Alice, wasn’t around. Or her girls. Lucy was probably asleep—the virus was still hitting her hard, so she was in bed a lot—but Sophie was as active as ever.

Silence. He could risk it.

He was, in fact, risking a lot talking to Claudine. Contact with the outside world was either prohibited or heavily censored. But Romain had no problem getting around the restrictions with his computer skills. Contact with reporters was definitely on the censored list, but Romain had seen Claudine’s article about Terminalle four months ago and decided to risk it.

He and Juniper had fought over the choice—in a park, not her house, because Lucius had cameras in her home. Juniper was adamant that communicating with a reporter was far too dangerous. He had argued that maybe, one day, they might be able to use Claudine to expose what was happening in Terminalle. After all, she’s already interested.

Or she’ll expose you, Juniper had snapped. You’re not meant to be contacting people like her. And what if she wants to come to Terminalle? You’ll be putting her in so much danger!

Reporters are natural risk-takers, he’d responded. They’re constantly poking their nose into things they shouldn’t.

They never poke their noses into Terminalle, though.

That had shut him up. The last reporter who came to Terminalle, presumably brought into the city by someone, had died in mysterious circumstances. The body was found, naked and shot up with heroin, a week after his death. The memory of that silenced Romain but didn’t change his mind. With Lucy sick, he needed a cure for Python more urgently than ever, and Claudine, with her outside contacts and research skills, was currently his best option.

Once they’d greeted each other briefly, he typed, I have news! Things are moving along with Estiana.

The scientist in Lumiere? The one working on a cure for Python?

That’s the one.

What’s happened? she asked. Are you ready to tell me how you found out about her yet?

He chose not to answer the last question but typed, I got onto the topic of Python. She told me she has some treatments for it. She’s apparently been testing different ones for some time. I get the impression she’s close to a cure.

He could hear the surprise in her question: How did you get her to reveal that?

I told her my niece is sick with Python. I asked to meet her, to see if she’s got anything to help Lucy.

And she didn’t mind being used like that? Weren’t you pretending to be interested romantically?

He refused to feel guilty. He wrote, She’s kind. She understood.

What will you do?

I think I have to go there.

A long pause. Then she asked, What do you want me to do?

With great difficulty, he had deterred Claudine from coming to Terminalle, as she had wanted to for her story. But Lumiere was far safer. Meet me there. We’ll look into it together.

Another long pause. Then, Only if you take me back to Terminalle afterwards. I need to sell it to my editor. He’s not even convinced Terminalle is populated the way you say. Some photos would make a difference.

This time he rose and paced. He didn’t like lying, but he wanted her help in Lumiere. He needed her journalistic ability to ferret out answers and her access to the outside world if they needed it. If he was brutally honest with himself, he also wanted moral support because, like most of Terminalle’s inhabitants, he had never left the city. Not ever. Perhaps if he could reach Juniper he wouldn’t need Claudine so much. But Juniper had been attacked and was at the palace, recovering. His pleas to see her had fallen on deaf ears—Lucius wasn’t letting anyone near her till she healed. Or so he claimed.

So Romain lied: Okay, once we get what we need.

Great! When are you going?

? Not sure yet. Probably in a week. Maybe sooner. I’ll get back to you.

I’ll let you know if I go on ahead. Where should I stay? A hotel?

I don’t know if there are any in Lumiere, he admitted.

Never mind, I’m resourceful. Be good to meet you!

You, too, he wrote and signed out.

He was committed now. He was going to sneak out of Terminalle and into Lumiere. The thought was terrifying for so many reasons. Not least the risk of Python multiplying in him. He would take water with him, and when that ran out, he would have around a week. Unless he could find Estiana and convince her to give him some of her treatments. Or even a cure, if she really had one.

(LUMIERE)

Alaric was doubled over in supplication when his guards let Estiana in. She could see his lips moving rapidly in devotion chants. His eyes were closed, yet when he straightened up, he immediately said, Estiana, you need something?

She shook her head in wonder at his god-like perception. How did he always know when she was near? Romain has been in touch again. He asked about my treatments and told me his niece is sick with their virus. He hinted that he wants to meet me. I think he’s trying to help Lucy. His niece.

Alaric nodded thoughtfully. He was in sky blue today, the color of revelation, and it made his eyes blaze. He was a contrast to the mostly red and gold surroundings. This room was the one dedicated to prayer and private judgments. It was her least favorite. Though she wasn’t often judged there, the few times she had been had left her dreading a repeat. But now that she was Alaric’s second portion—second in favor and responsibility amongst all his women—perhaps it wouldn’t happen again. Now that she was doing less manual labor and eating and sleeping better, she was certainly beginning to feel less foggy and subsequently less likely to make mistakes.

Not that perfection was possible for anyone except him.

Alaric’s words drew her back. You want to meet him. It sounded like an accusation.

I am pleased because you have instructed me to draw him in, she said quickly. Too quickly.

He stepped forward and took hold of her chin. It hurt, but she didn’t move or object. Being touched by Alaric was a blessing all the women desired. The men, too. He was smiling. You forget, I can read you. Your desires are never hidden from me.

Then you know my desire is all for you, she whispered.

He responded by kissing her, hard. The forbidden thought came instantly—she didn’t like his kisses. She knew there was something very wrong with that, because she had overheard his third and fourth portions talking about how his kisses set them on fire, how desperate they were for them.

But she felt nothing.

Such thoughts were sinful. When he released her, she opened her mouth to confess them, but he was already talking. You are my second portion and yet I suspect you are beginning to lust after the Terminalle man. How should I discipline you for this?

She bowed her head. I will take whatever you give, for your judgments are always just. She paused, telling herself to keep her mouth shut. But as always, it seemed to have a life of its own. But my Lord, you must know, my loyalty is absolutely to you. I sought only to win him because you asked me to. For you, my Lord.

She kept her head bowed while he considered it. His next words took her completely by surprise. "I will tell you why