Page 1191

Gina couldn’t figure this girl out. Worse, still, was the fact that her search for information on Andalero had so far turned up bupkis. And she was supposed to be recuperating, not twisting herself into a ball of muted frustration.

At length, she caught herself caving in and searching instead for intel on Madison Reach. She caught herself. And then went ahead anyway.

She quickly found more than she bargained for.

Many people did not have nice things to say about Miss Reach. Apparently, she was all types of bitchy and arrogant, making her notoriously difficult to work with. And a hypocrite, too, for multitudinous reasons, though the biggest seemed to be a drug addiction, which some said she’d kicked while others said she hadn’t.

To her credit, though, she did have many passionate supporters as well--enough so that the flame wars Gina found were among the most vitriolic she’d ever seen. Which was saying a lot.

In the end, though, none of it was helpful to her. If anything, she was even more confused about what to think than before.

She didn’t need to rely on random forum posters, though. She had plenty of informed associates from all over the world. Maybe one of them knew something about Madison. Ah, but shady people were looking for Madison, so asking about her might draw suspicion from nosy data miners. She’d have to encrypt her emails and make sure not to send them to anyone she didn’t think--

“So are you and him...?”

The question made Gina put a pin in her evil plan. “Excuse me?”

Madison was fidgeting in her seat. “You and Roman. Are the two of you...?”

She must’ve been holding onto that question for the last couple days, Gina figured. Gina wasn’t entirely sure that she wanted to answer that question, though. Maybe she’d just play dumb a little longer and hope for the best. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Page 1190 -- CXXXIII.

Chapter One Hundred Thirty-Three: ‘Thy deepening concern...’
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Gina wiped her nose for what felt like the fiftieth time in the past hour. She lay in bed, nestled in a small fortress of blankets and pillows as she browsed through old emails on her laptop.

She was not alone, however. The girl not-really-watching television on the other side of the room was her guest--a guest whose stay was currently indefinite.

Madison Reach pursed her lips absently. “So, um... any word yet on when Roman will be back?”

Gina had to consciously avoid rolling her eyes. “No.”

“Right. Of course. Sorry to keep asking.”

“It’s fine,” said Gina.

Another long period of silence intervened, leaving only the background noise of the television in the room.

Gina didn’t necessarily mind Madison’s company, as such. The girl needed a safe place to stay. Apparently, things had gotten a little crazy in Steccat, and now, the Andalero group wanted her dead or captured. And it was largely Master Roman’s fault.

Not too surprising. Gina understood.

But Madison’s apparent obsession with Master Roman had become rather grating. And it didn’t even make sense. Shouldn’t she have been upset? From what Master Roman had said, he’d nearly gotten her killed and quite possibly ruined her entire livelihood. And yet she hadn’t mentioned any of that to Gina even once. Was she just incredibly forgiving? Somehow, Gina didn’t think so.

It was distracting, to say the least. Gina just wanted to lie in bed, chug cold medicine, and maybe find some new intel on these Andalero people.

But no. Madison had to be here, too. Being all nice and thoughtful. Making Gina breakfast, lunch, and dinner--and well, too. How did she even know how to cook, huh? Weren’t movie stars supposed to be crap at that sort of thing?

Page 1189

The question made Hector’s eyes widen.

The Lord Duxan’s answer was in Valgan, but it did seem to be an affirmation.

‘Our home has such a passage as well,’ said Garovel. ‘I believe that is our most discreet option available here, though I will need to make a call first.’

A rumble of voices passed over the Sandlords as they discussed it amongst themselves, but they soon came back with a nod from Abbas and a few more Valgan words for Garovel.

Garovel answered in Valgan this time, too, and then moved away from the table, motioning for Hector to follow.

Hector excused himself and exited the tent with his reaper. He’d mostly followed what had happened there at the end, but the details had eluded him. He shielded his eyes as the harsh sun greeted him again.

‘Tell me you still have Gina’s number,’ said Garovel

Hector searched his pockets for his phone. “Yeah...”

‘Call her. I need to talk to Voreese as soon as possible.’

Hector hesitated, frowning.

‘What’s the matter?’

“Nothing. It’s just... international rates are ridiculous. I think I lost like thirty troas just letting Ramira browse the internet for pictures of spiders the other day.”

Garovel’s bony face twisted impossibly. ‘Really? THAT’S what you’re worried about? Since when do you give two shits about money?’

“Since I need it in order to rebuild my busted-ass castle. Not to mention, uh... feeding everyone who’s apparently gonna live there.”

‘Yes, well, I’m glad you’re trying to be so financially mindful, but a couple hundred troas isn’t going to make much difference with that, either way.’

“Wait, what? A couple hundred?!”

Garovel shrugged. ‘It might be a long conversation. I dunno.’

“Agh. I need a better data plan...”