“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.”