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 twenty, 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.