Grand Cross by Merethe Walther

Author:Merethe Walther [Walther, Merethe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Uncanny Publishing
Published: 2019-04-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Apollo opened the door at the very back of the lounge with a gentle press of his finger against the electronic pad beside it. The door lifted upward to reveal a brightly lit hall in the same modern dark-wood-and-white style. Though there were several doors to pick from, he casually guided the group to the one in the middle, going through the same fingerprint identifying process, his swagger fully in place once more by the time the door lifted into the wall pocket above them.

The room was almost more exquisite than the outer areas had been. The carpet seemed to swallow all walking noise, and there were overstuffed chairs resting on the right side near a wall with a painting of what must have been a scene on Earth; a field of lavender and some ruinous columns and urns in the foreground overtaken by vines and colorful flowers. The pale blue sky above the field held darkened clouds against mountains in the distance that actually panned across the sky, sending a virtual scattering of light through the room in gentle waves.

On the large, slightly C-shaped couches across from the painting were the frail old man and DeMarch’s bodyguard and son, Nialls. He had his legs propped up on the table in the middle of the seating area and didn’t so much as acknowledge their presence when they entered. To their right was a door with a large electronic keypad Aralyn assumed was the exit Apollo told them they’d be leaving through. At the back of the room, framed by a window looking out into space that must have been ten feet in either direction, stood the Madame herself, arms crossed with a pursed look on her already pinched features.

“My good lady,” said Apollo, charm oozing off of him like slime as he stretched his arms out, “I hope we did not keep you waiting long.”

Aralyn looked around the room but didn’t see Kragg anywhere. Alarm ate at her insides. She’d never been to something like this before, but even she could tell that something was wrong. Apollo had said this was for the “inspection” of the purchased slaves. But Kragg was nowhere in sight. She resisted the urge to rest her hand on her holster, settling instead for crossing her arms and fighting to keep her expression neutral.

“No,” said Madame DeMarch coldly. “I suppose you had enough time to gather everything you were looking for in Eladia’s room?”

How…?

Aralyn stiffened and Apollo’s smile faltered.

“Come now, Madame, it’s not like that at all,” he said, his voice suggesting that what she said was nonsensical.

At the large wooden desk, DeMarch turned a small surveillance screen around, and there, plain as day, were the three of them drinking at the bar, breaking into the bedroom, and walking out a few short minutes later. Aralyn peered at the footage incredulously and closed her eyes in irritation. The bartender’s vest; the buttons. There had been a tiny camera embedded in his clothing, and it had caught the entire caper.

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