33. Chapter 33

33

A s Rebecca hobbled through the open doorway into the common room—one hand trailing along the wall to steady her—the dozens of murmured conversations ranging from secretive whispers to marginally subdued arguments that could have turned into all-out brawls if given enough time came to a complete standstill.

The silence was as powerful and violent as a smack to the face. In a matter of seconds, everyone was staring at her, and everyone was on their feet.

Including Bor, who took it all a step further by lifting a fist, pounding it against his chest, and letting out a solid bark of, “Roth-Da’al!”

Immediately, the rest of the task force followed suit. Dozens of fists thrust into the air in Rebecca’s direction before thumping down on dozens of chests while dozens of voices all echoed the salute.

“Roth-Da’al!”

Rebecca stared, frozen stiff beneath her surprise and the debilitating weight of seeing with her own eyes that Shade really had taken it this far. In her name.

Her cheeks burned with a heated flush at all the attention focused on her at once, though she tried to convince herself it was from the homunculus poison surging through her instead.

In those first few seconds, she almost lost her battle against the urge to turn right back around and run from the compound—from Shade, from literally everything her life had become now as Rebecca Knox, because this was far more than she wanted right now.

It was far more than she could handle, and there was no foreseeable way out of this that wouldn’t get her or everyone else killed.

She didn’t get farther than trying to remove her hand from the wall, only to be instantly reminded of her pathetically frail physical state, before another rush of intensifying dizziness swarmed back into her awareness. She almost toppled over right there in front of everyone .

What were they all doing here like this?

What was Bor thinking , leading the entire task force into first an old-world ritual like the huur-akíl and now in saluting her like she was some kind of wartime hero or the general of a bloodthirsty war party?

It wasn’t the first time she’d been shown this level of respect and loyalty by a group of soldiers, which was technically what Shade boiled down to at its core. But the last time she’d been shown honors like this?

Well, she had fully expected it to be the last time forever.

Yet here she was, with an entire room of operatives standing at attention and gifting her with the Xaharí equivalent of bending the knee and swearing fealty to a new monarch. Or a new warlord.

Neither of which Rebecca had any interest in becoming. She’d already been there and done that. It was old news.

Until, apparently, it wasn’t.

More than the surprise of this formal greeting and the awkwardness that always somehow accompanied it, however, was the understanding of what exactly she’d just walked into here.

This was real. They’d already made their decision to crown her commander. Which meant it was going to be a hell of a lot more difficult to get Shade as a whole to accept the results of the huur-akíl as a giant mistake that needed to be rectified as soon as possible.

Not when they’d all greeted her like that with raised fists and chest thumps and all the hallmarks of good little followers doing what was expected of them in the presence of their new leader.

It was already too late to change their minds, wasn’t it? Shit.

In her current state, it took her longer than it should have to recognize what this was and just how impossible it would be to reverse this unexpected new decision of leadership.

Others in the common room, however, were faster on the draw.

Like Diego, who leapt at the opportunity to insert himself as one more Shade member starting up the unnecessary battle cries when he followed in Earl’s footsteps and shouted far louder than necessary, “Give it up for Knox!”

The gathering erupted in a chorus of cheers, whistles, applause, and growing excitement, if that was even possible. The rest of the task force took to the cry like it was some kind of virus, a contagion that would forever leave its imprint upon the minds and hearts of those who carried it.

In seconds, everyone was cheering, and everyone was shouting Rebecca’s fake last name like they all thought it was real. Because they did.

Dammit, no way was she getting out of this now .

Maybe if she’d been conscious for the huur-akíl and given the chance to politely decline the new position into which she’d been unknowingly voted, things might have turned out differently. But that opportunity was gone now. Crumbled to dust.

Rebecca was stubborn, and she didn’t want any part of this, true. She also knew how to read a room.

Right now, the room was saying, “We chose you. We’re prouder of this decision than we’ve been of anything in a long time. The only way you can fuck this up is by trying to take it from us.”

She was screwed.

Somewhere amidst the celebratory outcry and the chanting of her fake last name that only lasted a few interminably long minutes, an explosion of activity burst through the common room. Magicals hurried this way and that, talking excitedly to each other, grinning in Rebecca’s direction every chance they got, hoping their new commander would notice and then offer time for a bit of a private conversation.

Almost everyone looked at her like this at one point or another, waiting for Rebecca to offer some kind of decree, maybe a speech, maybe some words of encouragement.

Unfortunately for them, Rebecca couldn’t even stand on her own, and now she was sure that if she took her hand off the wall of the entryway, she’d fall flat on her face and bring all the celebration to a standstill.

Worse than being voted in as Shade’s new commander against her will was the possibility of the entire task force realizing the magical they’d willingly selected for the job was entirely incapable of fulfilling it. If she disappointed them?

Well, that would mean she wasn’t right for the job, either. And now, thanks to her, Shade had the knowledge and experience of what it took to get rid of a disappointing commander, no matter the potential risks.

She did, however, have enough energy to look up across the room. She wasn’t specifically searching for anything, but of course her gaze landed on Maxwell, anyway.

Even after she’d almost died, killed their former leader, and been sworn in by the others as Shade’s new command, the shifter somehow still found a way to position himself front and center in her awareness, didn’t he?

He didn’t try to cover up the fact that he’d been staring at her, either. Also not a surprise. The Head of Security stood back against the far side of the common room closest to the kitchen’s service window, leaning against the wall with his arms folded and a perfectly blank mask of zero expression coating his features .

Rebecca couldn’t be a hundred percent sure, but from where she stood, it looked an awful lot like he was scowling at her.

Like he did not approve in any way of this new development within the task force he was used to running as their only experienced and mostly competent leadership.

Maxwell Hannigan could join the club. Rebecca didn’t approve of this, either.

She also didn’t imagine the shifter would be willing to stand up against the entire task force on her behalf to argue for selecting a different commander. He’d already made it perfectly clear he didn’t think she was capable enough to take any leadership position, and clearly, his suspicions had continued to be ignored by literally everyone else.

Wonderful.

She was vaguely aware of Zida’s presence somewhere close behind her, probably so the healer could leap into action and be at Rebecca’s side if her legs gave out. She almost turned to ask the old woman if right now counted as a ‘just in case’ scenario, but then louder shouts from across the common room caught her attention, and the opportunity disappeared.

“Make way! Coming through! Yeah, yeah, I get it. We’re all excited as shit. Move it!”

The knot of grumbling and shuffling around on the other side of the common room only added to the feeling of celebratory chaos before a thunderous voice blistered through all the noise. “Everybody step aside!”

The force of that voice practically shook the walls and the floor. The hubbub in the common room died down for a moment while the bodies packed into a space almost too small for the entire task force shuffled aside, shoving and jostling each other to make room.

Rebecca fought off another round of stupefying dizziness, cursing her rotten luck under her breath.

She might have spent the last two days unconscious in the infirmary, but it sure sounded like Titus had made a full recovery after his epic run-in with deadly defensive wards.

Two seconds later, the vuulbor’s enormous form came into view, his arms spread wide as he made a giant show of creating enough space within the chaos for those behind him to make their way through as well.

Those who had very specifically made up the team with whom Rebecca had worked most often and most closely over the last six months.

Behind Titus came Leonard, strutting self-importantly toward Rebecca as if this was finally his moment. Which, she supposed, it probably was. The mage probably hadn’t had a whole lot of opportunities to strut around anywhere like he owned the place.

Even if she hadn’t been on the verge of passing out again, Rebecca liked to think she would have let him have his moment anyway.

When the mage finally emerged from the parting crowd of smiling, laughing, cheering Shade members, he clapped a hand down onto Titus’s hulkingly muscular back. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

Then he caught sight of Rebecca and spread his arms wide, grinning from ear to ear and still wearing that stupid leather trench coat.

“Good to have you back, bud.” Diego emerged from the crowd next and nodded at Titus, then tugged the brim of his baseball cap farther down over his crimson eyes. “Nothing like a guy your size to get everyone’s attention, huh?”

Titus’s deep, booming laughter overpowered all the other noise, then Rebecca’s unofficial team finally reached her, all of them staring at her and looking way too happy in their own right to now call themselves Rebecca Knox’s devoted soldiers.

The guilt that had sparked inside her the moment she’d realized what had happened in her absence rooted down deep and curled its strangling hold around her chest.

If only they knew the truth.

But they never could. The truth would unravel everything, and Shade’s misplaced faith in their new Elven commander would be the least of it.

“You’re alive!” Leonard exclaimed. “Now that was something I wasn’t sure we were gonna see.”

“But Zida kept telling us we’d just have to wait,” Diego added, his smile growing too. “Looks like the waiting finally paid off, though. For once.”

“Holy shit, Knox,” Titus added with another booming chuckle. “You look worse than I did.”

Rebecca responded with the first thing that came to mind simply because she didn’t have the strength to filter herself for appropriate thoughts to share out loud. “Yeah, but you should see the other guy…”

Fortunately, there was too much noise for that poorly timed joke to be heard by anyone else. But the three guys standing in front of her went instantly quiet as their faces fell.

Great. Already off to a fucking fantastic start.

Leonard pointed at her and opened his mouth to say something, but a flash of bright violet light erupted in front of him, followed by a soft pop. A second later, Nyx joined them in their little huddle in the entryway.

Leonard let out something resembling a shriek, then scowled at Titus and Diego sniggering at him .

Even Nyx gave the mage an odd look. “What is it with you today?”

Leonard gruffly cleared his throat. “There’s nothing with me at all. You just gotta give people a little warning before you do that, yeah? Or something.”

The katari laughed and bumped him with her shoulder. “Or you just need to stay on your toes.”

Diego and Titus cracked up laughing, which made Nyx’s already pale-purple cheeks blush a deep violet.

Acting like it didn’t affect her, though, the katari settled her gaze on Rebecca with a pained smile.

Or maybe Rebecca was just in so much pain right now, that was simply the only thing she could see in anyone else.

“What did I tell you, huh?” Nyx said. “It was pretty much unanimous.”

“Yeah, pretty much .” Diego snorted and folded his arms before raising an eyebrow at Rebecca. “I’ll give you three guesses who didn’t want you taking this spot. You probably only need one.”

Rebecca didn’t have any doubts about who that one guess would be—the one Shade member who hadn’t been super gung-ho onboard with voting her in as commander.

He was the only one who’d been glowering at her this whole time, but she couldn’t see their Head of Security anymore, blocked from view as he was by the bodies of her overly excited team crowding around her.

“It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks anymore,” Nyx said cheerfully. “What matters is that you’re in.”

“And would you believe it if we told you everyone’s just fucking giddy about it?” Diego asked.

Again, Rebecca racked her mind for something to say. This was all too much.

Before she could settle on the right words—and how did one actually find the right words for something like this?—another cry rose from the celebrating magicals in a voice she couldn’t place off the bat.

“A kibrál! The new Roth-Da’al needs a kibrál!”

Rebecca couldn’t help the groan escaping her as she tried to gaze across the common room again, but with Titus standing right in front of her, it was hard to see anyone. “A what ?”

“Oh, yeah .” Nyx’s eyes lit up with excitement. “That’s another Xaharí tradition. Old-world, obviously. Basically like holding court and giving everyone a chance to express their—”

“I know what it is, Nyx,” Rebecca said a little more tersely than she’d intended. “And that’s not really the kinda thing I—”

“Kibrál!”

Whoever had taken up the cry in response was only the first of many. Soon enough, the entire common room echoed with the call for this stupid kibrál bouncing around within the crowded space.

Like the word was mocking her.

Like this entire building was mocking her.

No, she did not want to “hold court”, as Nyx had put it. The katari couldn’t possibly have known how many times Rebecca had already held her own version of a kibrál in her long life. No one could have known.

And Rebecca wasn’t strong enough to argue against this new addition to her task list, either.

“That’s an excellent idea, yes. Excellent.” The healer stepped out from behind Rebecca to make her presence known.

As soon as she appeared, Leonard and Diego both stepped back to put more distance between themselves and the old daraku.

Leonard shuddered.

When Zida raised both crooked hands in the air, her bid for silence was instantly obeyed. The entire common room settled down into another expectant silence.

Impressive, really.

Maybe they should have made the healer their new commander instead.

Not fucking likely.

“All right, listen up!” Zida shouted. “I get it. Everybody’s ready to do something here to really get things moving, right?”

A cheer rose from the back of the room, but it was quickly squashed by a series of urgent shushes.

“Don’t you worry,” she continued. “Things will start moving around here soon enough. Everything in its time. But first, the Roth-Da’al will be holding a kibrál, and she’ll conduct it out of her private office upstairs. I’m sure you all know the one.

“To be clear, that’s one at a time. No group ambushes. All right, now go find one of you who’s organized and start putting the lineup together. The Roth-Da’al can’t hold a kibrál in her office if she’s not damn well in there. As you were.”

A deafening roar of cheers, laughter, and a few pounding feet rose from the task force, and Rebecca felt like all the noise was about to make her pass out.

Somehow, Zida caught her just in time and managed to make it look like nothing more than part of her duty in leading their commander away from the chaos and toward her “private office”.

Rebecca didn’t have a private office.

Which meant …

“Are you serious?” she grumbled at Zida while simultaneously leaning on the old woman for the support she really did need just to walk back down the hall.

“Oh, sorry. I forgot to tell you I’m wearing my joking face.” Zida looked up at her with a deadpan expression hidden even further by centuries of deepening wrinkles.

Rebecca would have laughed if she hadn’t felt like shit—and if she hadn’t thought this fun little kibrál was the worst idea ever.

“Fuck that,” she grumbled through gritted teeth. “I’m not sitting on the throne like the last douchebag.”

“Trust me, elf, looking the way you do right now, you’ll be thanking me before this thing’s even halfway over. Besides, the only other place to do it would be your private room, hmm? Something tells me that wouldn’t go over too well with anyone.”

Dammit, she was right.

And Rebecca was falling beneath constantly intensifying exhaustion—maybe even too intense for even Zida’s emergency medicine to combat.

If she couldn’t keep her wits about her now, the entire task force would figure out all too soon that Rebecca Knox was just a sham, and then she wouldn’t even have her anonymity to protect her anymore.

Then there would be nowhere left to hide.