Dream Chaser (Bailey Spade 3)

Then another. And one more.

When the fifth one stands up, everyone tenses.

If one more joins them, that will be a majority against us.

The sixth giant stands.

Puck.

We’re officially screwed.

Chapter Twenty-One

Somebody loudly knocks on the doors that lead into the meeting chamber. The pattern of the knocks is strange, something like Da-Da-Da-DUM.

The giant zombies and the rest of us look at the door.

The banging repeats, again going Da-Da-Da-DUM.

Wait a second. Isn’t that how the Fate Motif from Beethoven’s Symphony goes? My arms prickle with goosebumps. This must be Nostradamus’s cryptic prediction finally coming into play. Which means I’m supposed to play the detective—whatever that means.

Keyser barks an order at Rowan, and a moment later, she has her zombies open the doors.

A man rushes into the room. He looks haggard, with black bags under his eyes. More notably, his skin is purplish red, and there are steaks of blood on his face.

Rowan wisely backs away from the guy. Without her mask, she’s in mortal danger from him.

Ignoring us, the newcomer haltingly monologues in Necronian.

LEGO letters appear in the air in front of me:

Are you playing the detective?

So Valerian has also noticed the connection to Nostradamus’s words. Good. For a second, I was worried the adrenaline spike was making me hear things that weren’t there.

I nod at him, then close my eyes and do my best to “play the detective.”

Except I don’t know where to start, and the presence of yet another victim of the virus is making me want to run away screaming.

Hold on.

The virus.

I bet playing the detective implies I should figure out who or where the Icelus are.

Assuming they’re on this world in the first place.

No. They have to be. Nulen was sick when we met him, so he must’ve gotten infected by someone before we arrived, thus proving Icelus presence on this world. Not much detective skill required to figure that out.

Although… when we met him, he had only the very first symptom. That means he’d gotten infected recently. Also, the Parliament doesn’t believe us about the virus, so they couldn’t have heard reports of it, which also points to it being a recent arrival on this world.

So what does Nulen being one of the first cases tell me? Not much yet—but hold on. Going back to Icelus being on this world… Wasn’t Nulen guarding the hub with a force of zombies to prevent any arrivals?

Another round of goosebumps ripples down my spine. That’s exactly what he was doing. Which means one of two things: Either Nulen let Icelus agents in and was infected by them in the process, or someone else let them in and that someone else got Nulen sick too. Given that Nulen is dead, the only useful option is the second one. Which means—

The newcomer collapses, seemingly mid-sentence.

“Dead,” Rowan says somberly. “I can feel it.”

The six standing Parliament members sit back down.

One of the ones who didn’t vote to kill us—a giant with a mask that features a cartoonishly strong chin—begins to speak.

“He wants me to bring the messenger back,” Rowan says. “If that sort of thing is going to make you puke, I suggest you look away.” And as I look on, Rowan shoots the dead guy with a stream of multicolored energy.

A moment later, the messenger is back on his feet.

Members of Parliament attack him with questions, and the messenger answers in a robotic monotone.

“What did he say?” I hiss at Dylan.

Dylan looks to be in shock, so Rowan answers in her stead. “There was an outbreak of the virus in the province he’s from. Humans and necromancers are dying in droves.”

“And what’s the Parliament talking about now?” Valerian asks.

“Shegan is asking the messenger if the eight of you have been seen in the province,” Rowan translates. After the messenger zombie replies something, she adds, “Apparently not.”

“Of course not,” I say. “Nulen brought us here straight from the hub.”

Rowan chuckles humorlessly. “Silly rabbit—you expected the Parliament to use logic?”

“Kind of,” I say. “Can you translate something for me?”

Rowan nods.

“Was Nulen the only person guarding the hub against newcomers?”

“I can answer that myself,” Rowan says. “There’s a whole team of us who share that particular chore. Right now would be my turn, but I’m not at my post thanks to all this brouhaha you’ve created. Thanks for that—and I mean it.”

My pulse speeds up in excitement. “How long do each of you spend on your post?”

“A few days,” she says. “Depends on weather and things like that.”

“And whose turn was it right before Nulen?”

“Exozar’s,” Rowan says.

“Then logic says this Exozar is working with Icelus,” I announce triumphantly before explaining my deductions.

Just as I finish, the Parliament demands to know what we’re talking about, and Rowan loops them in.

As she speaks, Dylan looks at her admiringly, but it’s unclear why.

After Rowan is done explaining, Shegan speaks up.