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Not a peep.
He showered alone.
Dressed quickly.
And visibly exhaled in relief when afternoon rolled around, and I left to visit the jewels.
By the time I returned to him in the evening, his face held so many shadows and his eyes so many ghosts, I didn’t know how to bring him back.
He’s dying right in front of me.
“—but I did manage to get Willem to give me some slow-release fertilizer pellets so that should help, right?”
Shaking my head, I scattered the fears over Henri and focused on Faiza again.
Rachel gave me an odd look before nodding with Mollie. “That’s amazing, Faiza. I can’t believe he agreed to help after catching you stealing the indoor plant food.”
Faiza grinned. “He was brought here as a fourteen-year-old boy. Snatched at a local fete where he showed off his home-grown vegetables. He’ll do anything to get back home.”
Short and petite with glossy black hair, bright ebony eyes, and gorgeous caramel skin, she could’ve been a social media superstar if she hadn’t been targeted and trafficked. Dressed in a prim maid’s uniform, a silver choker glimmered beneath the starched white collar of her shirt.
The first time I’d seen that collar, I’d felt so angry. Absolutely livid that she wore a ticking time bomb around her throat, knowing that any day Victor could swap the silver for gold and her job description would end up like us.
The torment of that had ensured she’d not only agreed to help but went above and beyond to the point she’d become our linchpin in this whole attempt.
Faiza stepped a little closer. “I know you’ve made a couple of presents with the bleach and vinegar I gave you, but…if we’re truly doing this, you’re going to have to target all the guard posts, most of the Master’s bedrooms, and as many large common areas as you can.”
Dismay trickled through me. “H-How many is that?”
Faiza pursed her lips before huffing, “About fifty. Give or take.”
“Fifty?” I whisper-hissed, shooting a glance at the camera. The lens pointed toward the row of knives and pots hanging against the stone wall.
“They don’t all have to be huge,” Mollie whispered. “The ones in the Master chambers could consist of smaller explosions…just enough to create confusion and smoke. But the ones near the guard posts and communal areas will need to cause a decent amount of destruction. Do you think you could get your hands on any petrol or diesel, Faiza?” Mollie quirked an eyebrow. “If we can get some Styrofoam, I could make—”
“No way,” Rachel hissed. “You want to make foo gas? Homemade napalm? Have you completely lost the plot?”
“I know it’s highly unstable and dangerous, but—”
“But nothing. You’d kill yourself before we could hide it and set it off. It’s lethal, Mols.” Rachel crossed her arms. “We’ll make fifty smaller ones and hope for the best.”
“Can you make fifty?” My heart raced, amazed at their scientific knowledge of turning simple ingredients into such mayhem. “How long will that take? Will you have enough containers and supplies? How will we place them in the rooms?”
I’d thought three weeks would be enough time.
Turned out, it’d been nothing.
Rachel cupped her belly without thinking. I wanted to ask how she was. Morning sickness had started, so meeting in the kitchens sometimes sent her rushing to the bathroom.
Catching my stare, she winced and dropped her hand. “May has raided the recycling shed again. She’s selected all the bottles that will work. The shed only gets emptied once a month, so it holds more than enough containers for us to make that many.”
“You just need to sneak us as many chemicals as possible, Faiza,” Mollie said quietly. “You’ve done amazing on the bleach, and I tend to agree that napalm might be pushing it, but if you could get other things like ammonia, pesticides, oven cleaners, hydrogen peroxide, paint thinners, solvents, chlorine, and mold removers. With a few additions and tweaks, I can make some substantial weapons.” She smiled and dropped her voice even lower. “The bleach-and-vinegar mix will create a noxious gas that can kill. If we trapped a few Masters and guards in their rooms, we’d whittle down the numbers quite well. I can make mustard gas too. If we manage to make enough of them and ensure they all go off at the same time, it’ll be chaos.”
Rachel hugged herself, a violent tint to her stare. “While the castle burns and everyone runs around with damaged lungs and stinging eyes, we can race in here, grab all the knives, and start slashing.”
I flinched at the mental image. Of stabbing someone as viciously as Henri stabbed Kyle.
“How do we get everything to go off at the same time?” I asked.
