Page 46 of The Grip of Death
“Then why?” Xander asked, taking a slow step forward. “What else was all this chaos supposed to accomplish?”
She placed her hands on her desk, pushing as she rose from her chair. All pretense of sweetness had drained from her face. The bright smiles and twinkling eyes I’d once associated with Mother Dough weren’t there anymore. This was a different side of Gertrude Goodness all together. This was the real her.
“Don’t you find the boulevard portal so inconsistent? We’re at its mercy whether we’re waiting for it to shift destinations to buy supplies in certain cities or to sell our wares. It’s what makes the Black Market tick, is it not? How our portal offers a gateway to a different nation, a different city, inviting more merchants and more shoppers to shift in and out of the dimension as they please. For peace and for profit, yes?”
There she went again, her maddening tendency to answer questions with more questions. I would have gladly taken Hecate and her cryptic riddles over this.
“But how boring to have to wait for the portal to switch to the correct destination. What if we miss out on a chance to snap up a bulk bargain on, say, sugar? And I do mean bulk. Warehouses and warehouses of it in Brazil, for example, and how easy to bring all of that sweetness in through the portal — except, oh, the portal happens to be set to somewhere in Germany. Just an example.”
I snorted. “Sounds personal. Sounds like you want to bend the Black Market to your will, all because you missed a sweet deal.”
“Hmph. It’s far more serious than that. Now what if we could instantly select the Black Market’s destination? What if we could control the portal at will?”
Reza scoffed. “At whose will? Yours? And it would take a massive amount of power to redirect the Black Market in that way. Immense. You’d need some sort of — ”
He trailed off, but Xander picked up the thread. “An arcane engine.”
Gertrude’s eyes crinkled and twinkled when she smiled. She tapped the end of her nose. “Clever boy. Except that we could never get it to work. Not this time, and not in the past.”
“The blast,” I breathed. “The first explosion. So you were involved after all. My parents — you lied to me, Gertrude. Did they even know what they were doing for you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Please. The Prydes were bright, I’ll give you that. But who would ever believe that Gertrude Goodness would have something sinister on her mind? Not little old me.”
Gertrude seemed to shrink very slightly, her shoulders rounding, her face kinder and brighter. There was no magic at play here, only the manipulative wiles of a monster.
“You killed my parents. You killed all those artificers.”
She slammed her fist on the table. I flinched.
“Don’t be so foolish. You’re more like your parents than you think. But perhaps they weren’t in the wrong, after all. They told me that the device wasn’t quite ready to transmit so much power. It wasn’t quite ready to receive its first test subject.”
My blood ran cold. Xander’s hand closed around my wrist. I couldn’t tell if he’d done it to lend me support or to ask for it. He spoke in a small, slow voice.
“Who tested the arcane engine first?”
All expression vanished from Gertrude’s face. No sinister leer, no cheery smile. She turned her eyes on Sparrowheart, meeting her gaze.
“I had a daughter, once. You look very much like her.”
The room went deathly quiet, at least until Xander spoke again.”You’re a monster.”
Gertrude’s laughter was hollow, a bell without its clapper. “A monster? Perhaps I am. But I only ever wanted the best for the Black Market, you understand. For peace and for profit. I only wanted the best for its guilds.”
“And with you as supreme leader,” I spat. “You calling all the shots. For all your plans, where has any of this actually gotten you? My parents are dead. Your daughter, too. Where does this end?”
“It should have ended with your wedding. The Chrysanthemysts would have triggered a new spread of infection, taking root in the Court of Summer. At the Palace of Briars, too, with so many of the high fae in attendance. So much power I could have siphoned, turning the Summer Court into violet glass. That was my backup plan, another way to power the Black Market’s portal. Why stop at the world’s nations? Why not travel to other dimensions entirely? If only Titania hadn’t failed so spectacularly on her end of the bargain.”
Sparrowheart drew her sword, her blade singing as she unsheathed it. “You will not get away with this, you foul creature. By my hand or by Reza Arshad’s, you will meet justice.”
“Oh, but I will. Tell me, Reza. Do you remember my story about the Crucible?”
He frowned. “What Crucible? Don’t try to distract us now. Gertrude Goodness, I hereby place you under arrest, in the name of — ”
“My, oh, my. It appears you misremember. And wasn’t it just the other day that you and Jackson and I were here in my office discussing it?” Gertrude grinned, tapping the side of her chin. “I wonder what it was that made you forget.”
I tightened my fist. The teapot. “You laced your tea with — with something. I didn’t drink it, but that’s why Reza’s all messed up. You wanted us to forget that we came to talk to you about Giuseppe. But that means — Giuseppe. The bread.”
She tapped her nose again. “Very good, Jackson. Very clever boy. Old Giuseppe and I, why, we go way back. I’d asked him to tune the original version of the arcane engine — you know, the one that destroyed the Halls of Making? Your parents didn’t think it was prepared to channel quite so much power, so I kindly asked Giuseppe to remove the limiter. I must have underestimated the depth of my daughter’s magical essence. What a powerful mage she was. Truly, the thought of it makes a mother proud.”
