Page 67 of Darkest Desire

Humpty bowed a final time and she watched as he walked down the hallway to the hidden doorway. He pushed against it and slipped inside, neatly disappearing.

Phoebe frowned as she carried the tray into the room and set it on a small table beside the large round bed. She was just picking up one of the purple spotted fruits when it occurred to her that she might be able to get into the servant’s door as well.

“And maybe from there I could find my way to the Emperor’s rooms!” she exclaimed. Of course, Sirex had ordered her to stay in the room, but this was too good a chance to pass up!

Dropping the fruit back on the tray, she went to the door and looked out again. There was no one outside—the broad corridor was deserted. Taking a chance, Phoebe left the room, carefully shutting the door behind her, and went down the hallway.

She came to the place where the servant boy had disappeared and studied it carefully. At first glance it looked like just another section of the golden wall. But then she saw three very faint seams which formed the outline of a door. Putting her hand to it, she pushed and was delighted when it gave way easily.

A sudden rush of air came out and it smelled sweet—the same sweet scent that she had first noticed when they entered the palace, Phoebe thought. The scent that she suspected had made her reckless enough to speak her mind and had earned her a spanking from Sirex.

She had gotten used to the scent and ceased to notice it not long after they first stepped inside. But it was stronger here—much stronger. What could it be?

Frowning, Phoebe poked her head in the secret door. Inside was a long, dim hallway that curved to the left. She stepped inside it and let the door close soundlessly behind her. The space was empty and lit with flickering glows that hovered near the ceiling every five feet or so.

If anyone catches me back here, I’ll just tell them I was looking for Humpty because I wanted more fruit, she decided as she began making her way down the hidden hallway. They can’t get upset at me for that. Right?

She made her way down the hallway, moving soundlessly because her bare feet made no noise on the smooth tile floor. The walls of the tunnel were dirty white with plenty of scuff marks—they looked like they hadn’t been painted for years. After a little while, she came to a cross section where she could go either left or right.

Remembering that the Emperor’s suite was down the hall to the left of her own room, she took the left hand way. A waft of air from the new corridor blew another gust of the sweet scent at her. It smelled a little like flowers and a little like candy, Phoebe thought. And come to think of it, hadn’t she smelled that same scent in the mimosa-like Sparkler she’d drunk the night before? It was definitely significant, though she wasn’t sure why.

She continued down the hallway, passing several more corridors along the way. But she stayed in the one she had chosen because none of the others had the scent.

Finally the corridor curved to the left again and she found herself outside a small wooden door with faded gold writing painted on it.

Phoebe squinted but she couldn’t make out what the writing said—it was too faint. However she decided to take a chance. Grasping the knob, she turned it slowly and was pleased when the door opened without any problems.

The moment the door cracked open, the sweet scent got even stronger and Phoebe knew she must be coming to the source of the mysterious smell. She stepped inside and found herself in a dimly lit bedroom.

It was an extremely grand room with thick, plush carpeting and golden furniture, including the golden bed in the middle of the room. A faint light was coming through the windows, but there were curtains drawn over them so only a thin beam of pinkish sunlight was able to get through.

At first Phoebe thought the room was completely deserted…then she saw the bed had one occupant right in the center. It was an old, old man with platinum gray skin and a long white beard that was spread out in elegant curls over his sunken chest. His hair was pure white too and his eyes were closed as he snored—a slow, steady wheeze that seemed to indicate he was deeply asleep.

Once she was sure the occupant of the bed was sleeping, Phoebe came more fully into the room. Her eyes slid from the sleeping man—who must be the Emperor—to the huge, ornate headboard at the back of the large, magnificent bed.

To Phoebe, it looked kind of like one of those storage shelves you can buy at Ikea with rows of square openings that could be used to display objects or to store boxes. Only she was pretty sure Ikea didn’t sell a model that was covered in carvings and gold leaf and had diamonds embedded along its edges.

It was clear the headboard was being used as a display case rather than a storage area. Every square opening held a unique and beautiful object—many of which were so strange Phoebe couldn’t even tell what they were or what their purpose was.

In one square display space she saw a shiny gold box covered in ruby, sapphire, and emerald squares, rather like a fancy Rubix Cube. In another there was a statue of some kind of animal that seemed to be carved out of an enormous diamond. In yet another she saw what looked like a golden sword hilt with jeweled buttons at the bottom but there was no blade attached to it.

But there was one item in particular that caught her eye.

Sitting in the square opening directly above the Emperor’s head was a smooth, white, opalescent crystal a little longer than her middle finger. Phoebe recognized it at once from the holo image that Commander Sylvan had showed them in their briefing.

“The Finger of the Goddess!” she breathed, staring at the crystal. It gleamed in the dim bedroom, seeming to emit a light of its own and she was almost certain it was the source of the sweet smell pervading the palace. Come to think of it, hadn’t Commander Sylvan said it smelled like some kind of blossoms that only grew on First World? Phoebe was sure he had.

Now she just had to figure out a way to get the crystal without waking the old Emperor. She would steal it and the minute Sirex came back to the palace they would head out to the spaceport. They would be home to the Mother Ship in time for dinner!

Quietly Phoebe approached the bed. The Emperor continued his steady, wheezy snore, his long mustache blowing out with every breath. When she got around the side of the bed, Phoebe saw that he was hooked up to a kind of IV line. A clear cylinder filled with dark blue liquid was suspended from a silver hook above his head and a line of the stuff was running down a tube into his wrinkled arm. She also noticed that his wrists had soft cuffs on them that were tied together, effectively making him a prisoner.

Hmm, I wonder if that liquid is some kind of sedative, Phoebe thought, eyeing the IV. Maybe Thruck was keeping the Emperor drugged and out of the way so he could rule the palace the way he wanted to. She wouldn’t put it past him—she didn’t trust the two-headed bastard any further than she could throw him, as her Granny would say.

She got right up to the edge of the plush mattress and leaned over it, reaching for the crystal. Unfortunately, it was just out of reach. Phoebe grimaced with effort as she stretched her arm as far as she could—if only Sirex was with her, his arms were so much longer, he would have reached it easily!

The thought of waiting until her mentor came back flashed through her mind…but she didn’t want to do that. Who knew when they would get this chance again? Right now the palace was empty of men and the women were all keeping to their own rooms—this was a golden opportunity she was sure she wouldn’t get again.

Well, there was no helping it—she was going to have to climb up on the bed. Holding her breath, Phoebe moved the long strands of the skirt she was wearing aside and put one knee on the thick mattress. It was covered in an extremely puffy gold brocade comforter that looked thick enough to be suffocatingly warm. Well, maybe the Emperor needed it—older people often got cold when their blood thinned, she thought. Her Granny wore a shawl or a cardigan everywhere—even in the Florida heat.

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