Page 107 of Shadows of Perl
“Let me do the talking,” I whisper to Quell as she shuffles past me, then sits.
The Dragunhead’s gaze doesn’t leave her. But, interestingly, there is more curiosity in it than anger. I slide to the edge of my seat. “Sir—”
He raises a hand to silence me. “I want to hear from Miss Marionne directly.”
I smooth my clammy hands on my pants.
“You’re a highly sought-after target.” The Dragunhead leans back. “I’ve sent multiple Draguns to hunt you down on the word of my Dragunheart here, and it appears you outsmarted them all.”
“I have no interest in being captured,” Quell says.
“And yet you’re here.”
She tenses beside me.
“Tell me,” the Dragunhead goes on. “Why did you leave Chateau Soleil?”
Quell stops twisting a fraying hem on her shirt and stares at me with a question in her eyes. Why haven’t I told the Dragunhead about her binding with toushana? Because I’m a fool, that’s why. Quell fidgets. Don’t tell him. I stare intently at Quell, wishing she could read my thoughts. Her pulse picks up.
“At Cotillion I bound to the toushana inside me,” she says, white knuckling her chair. My grip tightens on mine. The Dragunhead doesn’t move. But the creases in his expression have smoothed. He’s not surprised.
“So the rumors are true.”
“What rumors, sir?” I ask.
He hasn’t ever mentioned hearing anything about Quell.
“If this made it to my ears, I know it made it to yours.” My neck flushes with heat. He’s never going to trust me again. “And yet you didn’t bring her in for sentencing. She’s not even cuffed. You’re requesting to allow her more freedom, more opportunity to evade us. This surprises me, Mr. Wexton.”
“I brought her in here uncuffed because—”
Quell’s gaze burns my skin.
“I trust her with this task.”
The Dragunhead grazes his knuckles under his chin. “First you want to delay Yagrin’s sentencing and now you want me to allow you to gallivant around the globe with two fugitives. She should be in the Shadow Cells.”
“Sir, Beaulah Perl has been planning to steal the Sphere’s magic for some time. I believe she was at Quell’s Cotillion to recruit her and offer her safe haven.”
Quell’s jaw clenches, but the tightness burning in my chest—her chest—shifts to sadness.
“If she gets to that Sphere before us, she could drain the innards and lose them.” My heart rams in my chest. “For all we know, she could have concocted some twisted way to alter the Sphere’s magic to affect all of us. You cannot put anything past Beaulah Perl. You have to—”
“Let me be clear,” Quell cuts in. “I’m going to find this Sphere with or without your approval. You won’t detain me alive. So make your decision quickly.” She flexes her fingers.
I watch the Dragunhead for some indication of how upset he is that a person bound to toushana is sitting in his office instead of a cell. But he drums his fingers on his desk, watching her more with curiosity than irritation. His body language is unreadable.
“He is asking me to believe that you have no ulterior motives and will honor your word to help us bring Beaulah Perl in to answer for this very serious allegation. Someone who just gave you safe haven. You can see how I’m struggling with that, can’t you?”
“I don’t care what you believe. You’re wasting my time.” She stands.
The Dragunhead shoots up from his seat, too.
“Quell, we had an agreement,” I say, refusing to stand and let this situation escalate any further than it already has.
The Dragunhead’s hand curls around his hip to his sheathed fire dagger.
“Quell.”