The Conspiracy of Us (The Conspiracy of Us 1)

Jack turned from peering through the slatted blinds. “What?”

“Blood.” I jumped up. “Right there. On the floor.”

It wasn’t easy to see on the hardwood, but droplets of blood led away from where we were standing. One trail led to the bedroom door. The other led into the closet.

We rushed into the closet, following the blood to a safe hidden behind a rack of shirts, a streak of blood marring one crisp white sleeve.

“Do you know the combination?” I said, breathless.

Jack nodded, and spun the lock as I hovered at his elbow. The safe popped open.

Inside was a folded piece of paper with a smeared red thumbprint across its front. The planner page. I grabbed it up, opened it, and read:

Find the three things before anyone else does. Tell no one. My curated collection. Follow from there.

Then, like it was an afterthought:

They’re wrong about the mandate.

CHAPTER 21

The mandate?” I said. “Wrong how?”

Jack leaned over my shoulder, staring at the note. “I haven’t got a clue.”

“Maybe they didn’t take him just because of me.” The guilt loosened its grip. I turned, pushing past Jack out of the claustrophobic closet. “Maybe it’s more. What could he know about the mandate? Something about the One?”

Jack followed and took the note. He held it up to the light, twisting it from side to side. “Fitz would have told me if he knew something like that.”

I perched on the edge of a white ottoman. Just how many secrets did Mr. Emerson have? “What exactly does the mandate say? The whole thing.”

Jack didn’t take his eyes off the note as he said,

The rightful One and the girl with the violet eyes.

The One, who walks through fire and does not burn.

The girl, born of the twelve.

Their fates mapped together become the fate of the Circle.

Through their union, the birthright of the Diadochi is uncovered.

The riches of Iskander, the power of Zeus, the means to vanquish the greatest enemies.

The One, when it is his, becomes invincible.

I drummed my fingers on the ottoman. “Again?” He’d said it so quickly, the words had blurred together, like he’d recited it a thousand times.

He repeated the mandate, enunciating this time.

“Wrong about the mandate,” I repeated. “The girl with violet eyes doesn’t seem like it could be wrong. What about the other lines?”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. I could tell he was still trying to wrap his mind around anything about the mandate being uncertain. “‘Vanquish the greatest enemies’ seems obvious. We know what the union is.”

“At least you think you do,” I said. It would be great news for me if that was what was wrong.

Jack gave me a sideways glance. “As I said, it’s highly likely our interpretation is correct.”

I slipped out of my shoes and stretched my feet against the cool hardwood. “What the Order cares about is the One, right? They’re trying to kill him right now. What does it say about the One?” I tried to forget I was talking about a person I was supposed to marry. “There’s the ‘walk through fire’ line.”

“That could mean any number of things,” Jack said, pacing, “but it’s accepted to mean a proverbial trial by fire. The One who is the strongest would be able to make it through difficult times.”

“We’re supposed to find three things,” I said to myself. “I wonder if it could be clues about the mandate. About the One. And that’s what he thinks they’re wrong about.”

Jack just shook his head. “If he knew something about who the One was and kept it a secret . . . I just don’t know why he’d do that.”

I didn’t either. “For now it doesn’t matter what he means by ‘wrong about the mandate,’” I said. “He said to follow what he left. We can think about the mandate stuff if we find anything, but we have to follow his clues first.”

Jack’s eyes darted to me. I could see the hesitation in them. I knew he really should send me to the Saxons. The longer he didn’t turn me in, the more trouble he’d be in if they found out. But telling them would mean they’d want me there right away and we wouldn’t be able to help Fitz.

I found the compass points on his tattoo. As Jack stood right now, the north tip of the compass pointed right at me. There was something beautiful about it, but now that I knew what it meant, it seemed sinister, too. With consequences like those in play, could I actually trust him?

“Do you think the curated collection means the Hagia Sophia? He volunteered there, right?” I said, watching for his reaction.

Jack tapped his thumb against his lip for a few seconds, and then dropped it and squared his shoulders with a long exhale. “Yes. We should start there.”

If nothing else, I did believe he was worried about Mr. Emerson and would do anything to help. I’d just have to keep my guard up. I nodded and worked my aching feet back into my shoes.

Jack had been pacing from the mirrored closet door to the leather armchair sitting on a sheepskin rug, but now he hesitated in front of me. “I understand how you feel, you know. About the mandate. About all this.”

I looked up. “I’m not even worried about that right now. I just want to help Mr. Emerson.” I looked down at my hands, folded in my lap. “And I don’t think you could possibly know how I feel about it.”

He offered me his hand to help me up. “For someone in the Circle,” he said, “the union would be a huge honor. For you . . . this isn’t your world.”

He flicked his eyes to mine, and those old butterflies in my belly gave the slightest flicker of their wings. He let go of my hand.

I swallowed, then rubbed my face. My fingers came away smeared with mascara, and I realized I’d probably looked like a drowned mess this whole time.

“I’m going to wash my face before we go,” I said. I needed a second to not think about all this.

Jack nodded. “I need to borrow a shirt from Fitz anyway,” he said, rolling his shoulders. The shirt from Prada was a little tight, and stretched taut across his shoulders. The butterflies flapped harder, but I shook them off. What was wrong with me? How could I possibly be thinking about how good he looked in a tight shirt right now?

Jack gestured to the attached bathroom and disappeared back into the closet. I paused at the dresser, where he’d set the picture of him and Mr. Emerson. Mr. Emerson’s eyes sparkled from behind his glasses, and even Jack’s expression was a little less serious than I was used to. They were standing at what appeared to be the base of a snow-covered mountain.