85
Back when I was a kid and still young enough to get excited about going trick-or-treating on Halloween, I used to drag the night’s haul into my room, dump the contents onto my bed, and spend hours sorting through the mountain of sweets.
My return to Gray Wolf isn’t so different.
After a quick debriefing where Keane removes our masks and ensures that, despite the gruesome state of my dress, no one was seriously injured—we go about emptying our pockets so Arthur can examine the goods.
While I have no idea what sort of spoils Arthur is used to seeing, the glimmering pile of jewels looks impressive to me. And yet, I can’t help but wonder why he cares about any of this.
Arthur is a trillionaire—a man who can literally buy anything he could ever desire, including jewels much grander than these. So why bother sending three kids back in time to collect a pile of nobles’ trinkets of no real historical value?
I mean, what does he actually do with these things? Is he purely driven by greed? Or is there something more—something I’m missing?
“Well done,” Arthur says, holding up a thick gold ring for inspection. It came from Elodie’s stash, and I can’t help but notice the way her cheeks flush in response to his praise.
It’s strange to see the change in Elodie’s behavior whenever Arthur is there. Back when Song revealed that she regards him as a father, I’m not sure I really understood. But watching her now, vying for his approval, it’s like a little girl turning cartwheels and begging:Look at me, Daddy, look!
It’s then that I realize Arthur is Elodie’s kryptonite.
But what is Arthur’s?
“I hear you handled yourself quite well out there.”
I’m so preoccupied by thoughts of Elodie, it’s a moment before I recognize Arthur has shifted his focus to me.
“Then again, you had some terrific chrononauts to guide you.”
“Chrononauts?” I squint.
“A fancy word for time travelers,” Arthur says.
I glance between Elodie and Jago, both studiously working at avoiding my gaze. And when I return to Arthur, I notice the slightest bend in his brow, as though he wants to see if I’ll rat them out for ditching me, or if they’ll rat me out for being caught, seized, and chased all the way to the portal, putting us all in grave danger.
I know he knows something happened over there. I don’t know how, but he definitely—
Suddenly, I realize that much like the clothing I wore in the constructs, Arthur was monitoring my Trip. I guess it makes sense, considering how much he’s invested. And yet—just how much did he see?
Was it just the rate of my pulse?
Or does he somehow know about the drinks, the dance, the masked boy who steered me into a dark corner, pushed me against a wall, and trailed his lips down my neck?
And worse, does he already know just how badly I failed at my task?
Or am I being paranoid, seeing conspiracies where they don’t really exist?
If there’s one thing I know for certain, it’s that this is a test. One that possibly holds even more significance than the Trip I just took. In a place like Gray Wolf, loyalty, or at least the appearance of loyalty, is essential.
“Couldn’t have asked for better partners,” I say, my lips pulling wide as I flash a grin at Jago and Elodie.
I’ll cut Jago a break, considering how he saved me by pulling me into that glowing doorway just seconds before launch.
But Elodie… It was clear she was more than willing to leave me behind.
To Arthur, I add, “They taught me a lot.” I keep my expression neutral, my gaze even.
Arthur nods and turns his attention to my own pile of loot, which consists of a bracelet, a hairpin, and a brooch. Compared to Elodie and Jago’s haul, it makes for a pretty pathetic display. “Is this all?” He shoots me a meaningful look. I nod, too ashamed to meet his gaze until he says, “And what’s this?”
I glance up to find him holding the crumpled handkerchief I’d forgotten all about. Hadn’t even realized I’d taken it out of my pocket. “Oh, that—that’s nothing.” I reach for it, but Arthur has no intention of giving it back, and my hand falls awkwardly to my side.