I tap the screen on my MMA—then immediately retreat as quietly and quickly as I can in the direction opposite the tech office. It would’ve been nice to get some distance beforehand, but with Central’s high-grade security, I needed to be as close as possible for the signal blocker to work when I activated it.
For agonizing breaths as I continue to backtrack, nothing happens. Then, on my internal grid, Noah’s presence flickers with yellow surprise. He heads toward the hallway entrance. I nearly breathe a sigh of relief. But I still need to be quiet, and there’s yet more work ahead.
I wait for Noah to start down the hallway that I know to be the quickest route to the tech office, but he passes the turn and keeps going straight. Straight down the path I took. At nearly every corner, he stops and pauses before continuing on. My heart pounds in my ears. He’s searching for an intruder. He knows—or suspects, which is almost as bad.
I continue backtracking down hallways, wondering if he can hear my footsteps, my breaths, wishing I were as stealthy as Lai. Noah doesn’t need to be silent, which lends him more speed. He’s catching up to me.
And we have company. Two patrolling soldiers are making their rounds nearby. I can’t go any farther without running into them.
I press myself back against a wall as Noah comes nearer and nearer, willing myself to blend into the shadows.
Noah’s footsteps sound from the adjoining hall. He’s close. Too close. I count my heartbeats in an attempt to calm myself, but it’s little use. If he continues, he’ll walk directly into me.
My lungs burn from not breathing.
The footsteps stop. The edges of Noah’s cautious presence on my grid flicker with exhaustion, doubt. He doesn’t continue forward.
It feels like nothing less than a miracle when his presence turns down the hall running perpendicular to mine. Noah resumes his previous stop-and-start search, but heading away from me now.
I allow myself to breathe normally once more. I can’t believe what a close call that was. My knees shake so badly I don’t want to move, but of course I have to. Now, while the coast is clear.
I head back to the reception room—now empty—and knock softly on Austin’s office door in the code Lai and Austin set up between just the two of them when she was younger. She taught it to me before I left Regail Hall in hopes that it might help.
Nothing happens. I feel his presence on the other side of the door, dyed scarlet with wariness, but he doesn’t move. My throat constricts as the seconds tick by. Should I knock again? What if he doesn’t answer? What if Noah comes back?
The door opens. I nearly choke on my relief as Austin ushers me quickly inside, presence tinged with surprise as he does so. He locks the door as soon as I’m in.
I take long, deep breaths as I attempt to calm the adrenaline rushing through me. It’s okay. I made it. Everything’s all right now.
Austin’s office is as messy as I remember it—which is actually a bit odd because usually when Noah is in Central, he organizes everything and keeps Austin in check. However, now, books sit in tottering piles around the room. Overstuffed folders spill off his desk onto the floor, where it appears some impromptu meeting was set up. Mugs with varying levels of liquid remaining in them sit scattered throughout the room on every surface—the windowsill, the edge of the desk, stacks of books, the two chairs across from Austin’s desk. How does he even move through all this?
“I can’t say I was expecting to see you here ever again,” Austin says. There’s a tinge of orange confusion to his presence, but no anger or caution.
“I’m here on business, I’m afraid. And limited on time if I want to leave unnoticed.”
Austin sits with a sigh in his chair—the only empty surface in the office. His hair appears more gray than black now, and deeper lines than I remember run across his square face. Even his perpetually strict posture is slumped. Concern worms its way through me despite myself. “Are you all right, sir?”
Austin gestures to one of the chairs before his desk. “I’m fine, thank you. Your concern is appreciated, though, especially after all that’s happened.” He snorts. “Traitors indeed.”
I hover by the chair, but between all the folders, mugs, and the spare parts of a radio occupying it, it’s impossible to sit. I grip the back. “What happened with our arrests wasn’t your fault. We’re all aware of that.”
“But I couldn’t do anything to stop it, either.” Austin closes his eyes and rubs the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. I’ve never seen him so exhausted. “However, that is beside the point. As you said, we will have to be quick.” When he opens his eyes once more, his back straightens as well. “Why are you here?”
So I tell him about the Order, its intelligence network, and the alliance we wish to set up with him. I attempt to reveal only the most necessary details about the Order and try not to mention anything that could potentially hurt us. I practiced this speech with Lai before I left, but the words are still stiff on my tongue.
Some of the exhaustion leaves the lines of Austin’s face as he listens. He looks more like the old him when he says, “From what you’ve said, it does sound like an alliance between the military and the Amaryllis Order could be beneficial for us both. It’s true the military hasn’t been able to make a move. The rebels have almost every advantage over us. We need help. But I know almost nothing about the Order, even if Lai is a part of them. Tell me, how do you feel about the group? Do you trust them?”
“You’re asking my thoughts?”
“Do you see anyone else here?”
I wasn’t expecting to be asked my own opinion on the Order. I don’t have the experience that Austin or even Lai does in these matters, and my history is hardly shining, considering how I blindly trusted the Council. However, Austin appears serious, so I consider how best to give my honest answer.
“I think they can be trusted,” I say slowly. “I have yet to see any behavior contradicting what they say their goals are, and every member I have met so far has appeared genuinely invested in seeing peace between the gifted and ungifted—nor have I sensed anyone lying about these things with my gift. I believe in them. More than that, I am truly happy to be working with the Order.”
“I see,” Austin says. His voice and presence both are neutral, so I’m not sure how to interpret that. Just when it looks as though he’s about to speak again, there’s a knock on the door.
My blood freezes. I check my grid: Noah. He’s back. I look to Austin, frantic, but he appears unconcerned when he asks, “Who is it?”
“Noah, sir.”
“Come in.”
If I’d had more time, I might have attempted to hide. As it is, the door unlocks from the other side and Austin’s secretary enters. His eyebrows lift slightly when he catches sight of me, though his presence doesn’t convey much surprise. He locks the door once more. “I thought we might have a visitor,” he says. “I guess you weren’t an officer for nothing.”
Noah’s trimmed his dark brown hair since I last saw him some months ago, but it’s still so long it nearly reaches his eyes. His copper skin appears darker as well; I wonder if his last job had him working outside. Despite the heavy half-moons under his eyes, his uniform is crisp and his posture upright.
I look to Austin, attempting, and failing, to bite back my panic.
“You don’t need to worry about Noah,” Austin says. Despite the fact that my heart is trying to jump out of my chest, Austin’s presence is still as a statue. “I trust him. Besides, if I do agree to your proposal, it’ll be less of a headache if he knows, too. You won’t have to try sneaking past him every time we meet, and he’ll be able to help me with providing assistance.”
“You can trust me,” Noah says. He places a hand over his chest. “I won’t reveal that you were ever here.”
There’s no itch behind my eyes that would indicate he’s lying. I still can’t dispel my wariness, though. Truth be told, I don’t know much about Noah. He’s a Nyte, nearly twe
nty, so one of the first. He’s been in the military for far longer than my four years; when I entered, he was already Austin’s secretary and essentially his second shadow. Whenever Noah was in Central, he was with Austin. However, for some reason, the Council often sends him on missions to other sectors. It likely has something to do with his gift, but I’m completely unaware as to what it is. He’s a noncombatant as far as I know. Perhaps something suited to negotiating with other sectors’ ambassadors. In any case, he’s always kept himself somewhat distant from everyone but Austin, and I’ve never attempted to learn more about him. I regret that slightly now. Austin, I trust. Noah is an unknown.
“Now then, where were we?” Austin says. “Ah yes. If you trust the Order, then I will tentatively agree to work in tandem with them.”
I blink. “Just like that? That’s it?”
“Do I need any more than that?”
“Well, I mean, I thought…”
Austin leans back in his chair. “After hearing Lai is involved, I was fairly certain I would agree to this alliance. However, Lai is deeply attached to this group from the sounds of it. I wanted to hear from someone with less personal bias. Someone clearheaded and able to make fair assessments—particularly someone who is good at seeing others’ honest emotions and motives.” At my stare, he raises an eyebrow. “You look surprised. You really think so little of your own ability to accurately judge others?”
“I…” However, I don’t quite know what to say. Or how much, with Noah here listening. My eyes drop to the floor—or what very little I can see of it underneath all the clutter. “I don’t know if I can trust my own judgment. I thought it was right to follow the Council and the military. But they only betrayed me repeatedly, in ways big and small.”
“In all fairness, you didn’t have many options,” Austin says quietly. His presence swirls like a miniature storm. “I’m sorry. If I had never offered you a place in the military—”
“No.” Before the team, before the military, I lived with my father, striving to be the perfect son. A useless attempt, since he despised me as both a Nyte and the cause of my mother’s death in childbirth. And while there have been more difficulties than I can count in the military, I have never regretted leaving my father. “You offered me a way out. For that, I can’t thank you enough. No matter how poorly that way out may have ended.”
Austin nearly smiles. He stands up. “Kitahara, you shouldn’t let the Council’s betrayal cast doubt over your insight. It’s solid—more so than that of most people I’ve met. At the end of the day, when you have to make a decision, you have only yourself to trust. Never doubt that you know the correct answer and never regret choosing it.”
“Thank you, sir.” It’s difficult to get the words out. My throat is tight. I nearly forget to add, “The Order and I look forward to working together with you. We will all give our best efforts to stop this war.”
“I know you will.” He gives a last, tired smile. “I’m sure we’ll meet again soon to make more specific plans. Until then, be careful. Noah, would you mind seeing Kitahara out?”
“Of course, sir,” Noah says.
I nod to Austin one final time before following his secretary.
After the bright light of Austin’s office, the reception room feels much darker and more ominous than it did when I first passed through. The single light on Noah’s desk hardly reaches beyond his workspace.
“Thank you for your help,” I say to Noah as we stand by his desk, because I don’t know what else to say and leaving without a word feels wrong. There is no door to act as a barrier between the reception room and the rest of Central’s halls, so I keep my voice low.
“I didn’t do anything, but thank you,” Noah says. The corners of his mouth twitch in what I think might be a smile, but his expression abruptly shifts to one less easily recognizable. His presence on my grid turns toward unease. “Your team—are you all okay?”
His sudden shift in emotion hardens my guard despite the innocent nature of his question. “Yes. Everyone’s well, thank you.”
“I’m glad to hear it. You’re all still together, then? You don’t need anything?”
There’s no itch behind my eyes after his first statement that would mean he’s lying, but his unease is still there, and there’s something distinctly off about the way he won’t look at me as he speaks. And the halting way he’s inquiring after us. There’s something he wants to ask but feels he can’t put forth directly.
“We’re all together,” I lie. “We don’t need anything at the moment, either. Thank you for asking.”
We both freeze as a sound echoes toward us from the hall, but when I check my grid, no one’s there. It was likely some machine, maybe the air-conditioning system. Or a Watcher.
“I need to go.” My voice couldn’t possibly get any lower. “Thank you again.”
Noah hesitates. “Take care, Kitahara. I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”
Somehow, as I stalk once more down the halls, those words don’t bring the comfort they should. However, even my disquiet about Noah can’t detract from the delayed elation of my success. Austin agreed to help the Order. With this, we might actually have a chance at stopping the war. We could win—the first time the thought has felt genuine since returning from that ambush. Finally, we have a way forward.
8
LAI
I’M STARTING TO get sick of the usual meeting room for core planning. It doesn’t help that this is the same room we would always meet in when Paul was still alive and I keep catching myself glancing unconsciously at the doorway, waiting for him to walk in. Maybe I should suggest the five of us meet somewhere else next time. And every time after that.
Focus. “If we do this, we’re not going to fight directly,” I say. “Now that Austin’s agreed to help us, there’s no reason for the Order to have to face the rebels head-on. Although we have to be careful our alliance with the military doesn’t slip out. That could cause more harm than good.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to make my thoughts keep going. I haven’t slept since Jay—now working out logistics with some of the captains—returned from his meeting with Austin almost twenty hours ago. As soon as he got back, the core Order leaders convened. With the military’s support, I didn’t have much reason to argue against the Order joining the war anymore. We won’t take the full brunt of it. After that, it was a matter of meeting with all the captains and Helpers, and trying to rally as much support as we could with those we knew backed the Order going to war. We have to solidify our bases before we announce this to the rest of the organization.
“We need to mitigate the concerns of those who are currently reluctant to fight,” I say. “Reassure them that this isn’t as dangerous as it sounds—that we’re not going to be sending everyone into battle just to get wiped out.”
“And show that this is the best way to win peace,” Trist adds. “We must fight for real peace. It will not come otherwise.”
“We’ll need to up our fighting instruction,” Fiona says as she sifts through numerous sheets fanned across the table, looking for the one detailing our number of actual fighters and those signed up for the self-defense program. “Johann joining our teachers has helped a lot, but one person alone can only take on so much. We need more trained instructors.”
Syon signs to her and she frowns. “No. I don’t think we should allow anyone younger than fourteen to fight. And even that’s pushing it.”
“I think we should take anyone who’s willing,” Peter says. The words sound dragged out of him. I’m a little surprised he even came. I need to talk to him about Paul soon, but everything’s been so busy and he’s been so standoffish that I haven’t had the chance. Maybe if he stays busy with Order responsibilities, the sheer amount of work will distract him enough from his grief that he can start to move on. “If someone wants to fight, we should let them.”
Fiona glares at him across her scattered array of papers. “I will not allow children to fight
in this war.”
“What, and you think we’re adults?” Peter asks with a humorless laugh that sends a chill down my spine. “We’re kids ourselves. And if we’re going to win this, we need all the help we can get.”
“We could consider accepting those who are gifted,” I say quietly. “They’re stronger and would be better able to hold their own.”
Fiona stares at me incredulously. “Do you even hear yourself right now? If we stoop to fighting this war with gifted children, we’re no better than the military or even the rebels. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it with morals. We’re not the same as them. We’ll do this and we’ll do it right.”
No one argues the point, and internally, guilt crawls up my lungs. Do I really think it’s okay to fight with children so long as they’re strong? Is what Jay said about me a lifetime ago true—that I think the end justifies the means? I don’t want to think about to what extent that’s true.
But thinking about Jay reminds me of Al, and another kind of guilt replaces the first. I know she’s reaching her limit with me, but I don’t know what to do. Besides, I’m already stretched thin trying to help the Order without taking on the complicated problem of solving the tension between us. I need to focus right now.
Trist must sense the uneasiness in the air, as he tends to do, because he switches the topic. “We have Sakchai’s Gate to get Outside at least, but we are short on weapons. And the ability to move many people at one time. Some members have bycs, but that will not be enough.”
“And rallying the Order in the meantime?” Peter asks, still in that same lifeless voice. “We have to get everyone to agree on this before we can do anything. A two to one split isn’t gonna cut it.”
Silence meets his words. We all know that, of course. What we need to do more than anything is figure out a way to convince everyone that this is the right course to take. Not everyone has to participate—I don’t want everyone to participate—but if there are doubts circulating when we go into this, not only will it hurt morale before we’ve even begun, but the feelings of negativity will only get worse as time goes on. Especially if things don’t go well at first.
An Outcast and an Ally Page 9
