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Authors: Lindsey Leavitt

Tags: #Fiction - Middle Grade

The Royal Treatment (18 page)

BOOK: The Royal Treatment
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The lovebirds pulled apart, and Meredith wiped at her eyes. I left them to their moment while I searched for Marilyn. Now I could ditch the emergency bubble for the luxury of Meredith’s office. And rest my feet for a bit. Because, seriously, Mary’s button-up shoes were
killing
me.

Chapter
22

W
e dropped Floressa off in Tharma, and Meredith flipped on her reception room TV. In the three hours since I’d jumped into the emergency bubble to find Floressa, the story had blown up. The king had sent out a search party, and every channel was filled with shots of the rescuers slashing through the jungle. Another station featured a hysterical Gina—“There were dozens of people on the set. How could she disappear? This is all my fault!”

One camera zoomed in on a blur. Floressa picking her way down a hill. Someone from the rescue party caught her and wrapped her in a blanket. A cheer went out. Brenda Waters rushed over with a camera. “Floressa! Floressa! What terrors did you see in that jungle?”

Floressa pushed the camera aside and gave her mother a hug. They sobbed, holding each other, a shot that would be rerun on every news station for weeks to come.

Meredith clicked off the screen. “The king didn’t completely disown her if he’s sending out a search party. There’s hope there. You’re going to get a strong PPR on that one.”

“I didn’t rescue her for a strong PPR.”

I followed Meredith into her office. The red message light on her phone was beeping angrily. Every inch of desk space was covered in notebooks and paper. Meredith sighed. “This is why I don’t take vacations. This work will have to wait—Genevieve’s party is going on, so I guess it was best to leave…the resort when I did. It’s a costume ball, so that fairy thing you have on should be fine. As for me…” Meredith pulled out a small black masquerade mask.

“Awesome! This will be my first agency event.”

“No, it won’t. We aren’t going.” Meredith snapped her mask over her face. “It’s a cover. You wanted me to tell you more? Well, I’m going to show you. Step out of the bubble.”

The lobby was vacant. “They’re in the ballroom,” Meredith whispered. “Follow me.”

We twisted through hallways, away from the ones I recognized and into darker corridors. The royal decor thinned out until only an occasional tapestry hung along the stone walls. Finally we came to a white door. Meredith lifted a chain tucked around her neck, revealing an antique brass key. She slipped it into the lock and turned. She cut me a severe look. “Showing you this could get both of us fired. Got it?”

I made a sealed motion across my lips.

The cafeteria-size room was white. Like, come-into-the-light white. A few lab tables were spread out across the shiny floor. Nothing was on top of them. No one else was in the room.

“Is this…is this where the subs get sanitized?” I asked.

“No. This is.” Meredith tapped the wall twice, and it rolled away, revealing rows and rows of built-in shelves crowded with hundreds of multicolored jars pulsing like lava lamps. In the middle of the rainbow was a vanity, similar to the one in my grandma’s house. And like Grandma’s, the counter was cluttered with crystal perfume bottles, a bronzed hairbrush and…Rouge. Meredith picked up the silver compact and rubbed the jade beetle on the lid. The same beetle I’d seen on Genevieve’s card. “It’s a scarab beetle. The Egyptian symbol of renewal.”

“So is that, uh, age-defying makeup?” I asked. I knew that wasn’t the answer. I wanted it to be, though.

“No. If you put this makeup on, your magic is…”

“Poof.”

Meredith and I whirled around. Lilith lounged against a table, all smiles. She wore a purple dress with bell sleeves, a smocked bodice, and one of those heavy medieval headdresses. “I assume you have your reasons for showing Desi this room.”

“Obviously, Lilith.”

“And those would be…”

“Like I’m going to tell you.”

“Level Twos don’t come in here anymore.” Lilith pushed back a lavender curl. “Unless they’re being sanitized.”

I widened my eyes. “Mer, you aren’t going to—”

“Of course not. And I told you not to call me Mer.” She shot a look at Lilith. “We both know Desi isn’t your average Level Two. She was given Genevieve’s card.”

“Seriously?” Lilith let her mouth drop before covering it with a sneer. “Well, you can explain it all to Genevieve. I’m going to report this right away.”

Meredith rolled her eyes. “You are such a snitch.”

“Are you trying to get on my good side? Because I must say you’re failing.”

“I’m tired of playing sides. And I’m tired of you. We’ll come back when we can be alone. Come on, Desi.”

Lilith blocked the door. “Of course you’ll understand if I don’t let you go. This information should guarantee me a promotion.”

“Promote this.” Meredith grabbed Lilith’s sleeve and yanked down. The fabric ripped, and we all gasped. Lilith lunged for Meredith’s mask, and within seconds they were clawing at each other on the floor. I wanted to help, but I couldn’t risk my costume tearing. I grabbed the compact from the shelf and held it in the air.

“If you both don’t stop right now, I’ll…I’ll throw this makeup.”

Meredith and Lilith froze. Meredith inched toward me. “You have no idea what that can do—”

“Put it down,” Lilith said. “Please, I won’t tell.”

They untangled themselves. I couldn’t believe they were acting so, as Reed would say,
junior high
. Ripped clothes, messed-up hair…Lilith even had a scratch on her arm. My superiors. The scene would have been funny if it hadn’t been so serious.

Of course, I wasn’t going to do anything with the makeup, but I felt powerful holding it. So this was where they’d brought Fake McKenzie. This makeup took away her magic, took away a promising future. What did the other containers do, then? And what was with the rainbow jars? Was that the real secret Meredith was going to disclose? “I’ll put down the makeup if you two…
make up
.”

“Sorry.” Meredith patted her hair. “That was uncalled for. I’m very passionate about my clients and work, and I lost it.”

Lilith ripped off her other sleeve to match, and straightened her headdress. “I’m sorry, too.” A wicked smile spread across her face. “Sorry you are both two seconds away from being fired.”

She cracked open the door. Genevieve, dressed as Cleopatra, in a white robe with gold jewelry and a heavy headdress, was seething in the doorway. Her usually warm brown eyes blazed. “I sensed activity in here.”

“So did I.” Lilith pointed at us. “I found Meredith showing a Level Two the sub-sanitation room.”

“I’m sure she had good cause.” Genevieve shifted her piercing gaze from Lilith to Meredith.

“I did. But I would rather discuss that in private,” Meredith said.

“Oh, please,” Lilith said. “It’s all out there now.”

“Lilith, why don’t you join the festivities downstairs? Tell them I’ll return shortly. Specter arrived and they’re already mucking up the place.”

“But they were—”

“Thank you, Lilith.”

Lilith stomped out of the room. Genevieve crossed the white space and motioned for me to hand her the compact. I did so, wordlessly, and she set it back on the shelf, which disappeared into the wall. “You don’t want to touch that.”

“I know. It takes away magic.”

Meredith stepped forward. “She figured it out herself. I just filled in the cracks.”

“That was a risky move, Meredith, especially if you believe the rumors of my retirement. Your promotion could be on the line.”

“You gave her your card.” Meredith shrugged. “You’re obviously aware of her capabilities. She’s the most accelerated sub I’ve ever had. It wasn’t that much of a risk.”

“Hi! Me! Here!” I pushed past them and sat on the white tabletop. “Would someone tell me what is going on?”

Genevieve touched a wall, and a doorknob appeared. Meredith looked as surprised as I was. Genevieve led us into a grandiose office, with thousands of crystals hanging from the ceiling. The windows looked out on the Paris night, the moonlight dancing through the crystals. Genevieve motioned to two chairs—make that
thrones
—facing a desk the size of Michigan. “I’ve allowed very few people into my office. I trust you’ll keep its whereabouts to yourselves.”

Meredith’s eyes were the size of a Rouge compact. “I thought this place was a fable.”

“We’ll have to save the tour for another time.” Genevieve waved her hand. “Now, Desi, I can make you a deal. You may inquire about that room if I may ask you about your magic. No lies.”

“No lies?” I repeated. Genevieve tipped her head to the side. She could find out anything she wanted on her own. We both knew that. I wanted answers. “Deal. What was in those jars?”

“You don’t mince words, do you?”

Meredith reached across her throne and patted my hand. I looked at her, but she was intent on Genevieve.

“Those jars are magical storage vessels,” Genevieve said. “Once we sanitize sub hopefuls, we liquefy their magic until it can be synthesized into another material. That magic powers our bubbles, hides Façade within this building, runs central command…You get the idea.”

“So, Façade is run on stolen magic.”


Stolen
is a harsh word.” Genevieve spread her hands across her desk. “Some of the magic is borrowed. Donated. When you become an agent, you don’t need as much, so we have magic drives. But, yes, some of it is stripped from sub hopefuls.”

“And you don’t think that’s evil?”

“There are many things in this world that are evil. Dictators. Genocide. Hate. I’ve seen what happens when a magical person uses her abilities to hurt others. So channeling unused magic to a worthier outlet? No, I don’t find that evil.”

I sat back and chewed on a nail. Okay, so evil was extreme. But bad. This was at least
bad,
right?

“Again,” Genevieve said, “I trust this information will be kept quiet.”

“You don’t usually learn all of this until you’re an agent,” Meredith said softly.

Right. Who am I going to tell?

Genevieve leaned forward. “And now I have some questions. Have you had any tingling or buzzing since we last spoke.”

“Yes.”

“And why didn’t you use my card?”

Meredith coughed.

I ran my hands along the arms of the throne. “I did try—at the end. Before that, I wasn’t sure what was happening. You told me that subs cannot use magic without Rouge. That my experiences at home had nothing to do with magic. Remember?”

“I wasn’t being deceitful. You’re still very new with the agency, and this wasn’t intelligence you were classified to know yet. But, as Meredith said, you have very strong MP, and so you’ve obviously learned a bit of magic’s possibility on your own.”

“We don’t have magic
potential
, do we? It’s magic. Straight magic.”

“No, for most it remains simply potential. Some subs can’t ever use magic without a boost provided by Rouge—alone, their MP isn’t enough to transform. And until you master your emotional talent, it’s not fully-fledged magic.”

“I think I know mine.” I told her about the play tryouts, about the realization at Floressa’s interview. “That’s when it clicked for me. My connecting emotion is—” I paused before saying the word, not sure if I should share everything. I looked to Meredith, and she gave me a slight nod. “My emotion is empathy.”

“Yes, I suspected as much.” Genevieve rubbed her chin. “It practically drips off of you. I haven’t seen anything like it in a long time. I’ve been watching you ever since Dorshire and…you’re a very exciting substitute.”

“Why?” I asked. “You guys keep talking like I’m the promised child. What makes empathy so special?”

Meredith shook her head. “It took me years,
years
, before I figured out my emotion.”

“What’s yours?” I asked.

“Kindness,” Meredith said.

“Kindness?”

“Are you questioning me?”

Maybe it’s a special talent she only reveals during a full moon. A full moon in a leap year. “No, um, it’s just…Okay. Kindness.”

“I’m totally kidding.” Meredith broke into a fit of giggles. “Seriously, like I’m telling you another one of my secrets.”

Genevieve cleared her throat. “Empathy gives you a natural edge. You can understand your client’s needs more than anyone else. You don’t need profiles or instructions or background checks. You’re intuition is enough of a guide—we saw this happen during your Level One performances, and now again with Floressa. Empathy is a skill perfectly tailored to your position. And this talent makes you the ideal candidate to Match with an elite princess—to become her long-term substitute, a sub’s greatest honor.” Genevieve walked around to the front of her desk, taking my hand in hers. “Desi, what do you think of advancing to Level Three?”

I swallowed. “I didn’t even know there was a Level Three.”

“Oh, there is. You’d be one of very few teens to achieve it. You can Match at that level, take on agent-assistant duties—Well, you could find out more if you accept the promotion. And naturally, with Meredith leading you so well, I’d also offer her a new spot on the council.”

“Council?” Meredith whispered. Her eyes glazed over, visions of council perks dancing in her head.

I curled up in the velvet chair. Genevieve had her own Wall o’ Awesome Things behind her desk, except hers had every royal in the world mapped out, connected with strings and sheets of paper explaining their titles and connections. I would Match for one of those princesses, experience the royal treatment as I woke up in her lavish bed. I could travel the world, befriend Elsa, start a charity.…The whole room was awash with possibility.

But what about the other room, the one we’d just left? The room Fake McKenzie visited to have her magic removed. That was wrong. No matter what reason Genevieve gave me, it still seemed wrong that Façade would strip magic from anyone who didn’t use MP as Façade saw fit. And the lie that the subs
always
needed the Rouge,
always
needed Façade for anything magical to happen, when in actuality it was possible to use our own magic as long as we figured out how. We didn’t need Façade; Façade needed us. Yes, power should be balanced, but whose job was it to keep Façade in check?

Saying no wasn’t a safe move, though. I knew what Façade and Genevieve were capable of. What would stop Genevieve from whisking me into the next room and bottling up my magic into a new nail polish shade? With one makeup application, my opportunity to impact anyone—royals or not—would be washed away. This promotion could be legit, or it could be a bribe. The only way to learn more was to stick with the agency.

BOOK: The Royal Treatment
11.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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