Chase the Dark by Annette Marie Read Free Book Online Page A

other one looked over with what might have been pity. “He could have set it up in advance,” he told her, “but we know for sure now he didn’t.”
    “I’ve barely been five feet from him for two days,” Lyre said angrily. “ None of us did a damn thing wrong. Why are you arresting us?”
    “I’ve heard your version of events,” the sergeant said dismissively. “Until we have some cold hard facts, none of you are going anywhere.” He looked at the prefect. “Anything else?”
    “The expert is sure the magic signature belongs to—” the man glanced at Piper. “To the one you suspected.”
    The sergeant nodded slowly. Piper ground her teeth. “What are you arresting us for, then?” she snapped. “What are the charges?”
    Taking a clipboard from the prefect and flipping idly through it, the sergeant didn’t bother to look at Piper. “We can’t charge you with the deaths of nine daemons or the attempted murder of a Consul since the magic isn’t yours, but I imagine ‘accessory to murder’ and ‘grand larceny’ will stick just fine. Maybe even ‘conspiracy to commit crimes against the peace,’” he added thoughtfully.
    The blood drained from her face and she was glad she was already sitting. “What?”
    “Piperel Griffiths,” the sergeant said, his voice going hard and flat as he finally looked at her, “would you like to tell me where the Sahar is?”
    She froze in place, unable to breathe. How did he know about the secret object from the vault that her father was supposed to have given to the ambassadors?
    “It would be in your best interests to come clean now,” he continued, stepping closer to loom over her. “I’m sure we could bring the charges down to something less . . . treasonous.” His expression softened slightly. “Did Quinn force you, Piperel?”
    She stared, not understanding.
    “Or was it these two?” the man asked, jerking his chin at Lyre and Ash. Lyre’s mouth hung open, his face a mask of horror. “You don’t have to protect them, Piperel. They can’t hurt you now.”
    “What . . . what are you talking about?” she whispered.
    The sergeant’s expression hardened again in a flash. “One of two things happened here tonight, girl. One: Quinn betrayed his position and stole the Sahar with your help. Or two: You betrayed your father and stole the Sahar with the help of these two animals.”
    “It’s stolen?” she repeated blankly. The special artifact was gone? The man’s words slowly sank in and Piper felt hot blood surge through her.
    “ My father did not steal it! ” she yelled, leaping to her feet. “Why would he? Even if he wanted to, it’s been here for months. Why would he steal it in front of a bunch of people?”
    “Then tell me this, girl,” the sergeant growled. “Where is your father now? Why wasn’t he in that room with everyone else? And why,” his voice slowed, “does the magic signature of that explosion belong to the Head Consul?”
    Piper couldn’t breathe. Her knees gave out and she sat on the step again with a thump. “It’s not,” she whispered.
    “It is,” the man said coldly. “The Sahar couldn’t be removed from its spot in the vault without the combined efforts of three skilled magicians. Perhaps that’s why he waited . . . although why he didn’t find some excuse to get his brother out of that vault first is beyond me.”
    No. Impossible. Quinn wouldn’t have almost killed his brother. It wasn’t even conceivable.
    “You’re wrong,” she choked. “You’re wrong.”
    “Quinn created the blast. That is fact.” He leveled Piperel with a stare that held no mercy. “Now we must determine your role in this heinous crime. You say you heard the explosion from inside the house. Why didn’t you immediately investigate? You surely could have reached the vault before Quinn exited it.”
    Piper was shaking so much she could barely talk. “We couldn’t because of the choronzon.”
    “What choronzon, Piper?