Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Shy and the Web

Instead of lunch with Anora, Natalie and I are called to the Compound. There are a plethora of reasons we might be summoned—all things that happened in the time span of the last twenty-four hours. All things the Order would only know about because Natalie reported them. Or maybe they’re calling us in because of something to do with Roth. It’s hard to predict. I drive with the windows rolled down because the air in the cabin of my Jeep is stretched and suffocating. Plus, the wind keeps conversation at bay for as long as possible, until Natalie takes the liberty of rolling the windows up.

She inhales a few times, the beginning of a sentence poised on the tip of her tongue. She’s working up courage. When the words finally come out, they rasp, as if lodged at the back of her throat.

“Where were you last night?” Natalie asks.

I should probably ease my grip on the steering wheel because my arm is throbbing, but Natalie’s question sets me on edge.

When I don’t answer, she says, “I didn’t tell Elite Cain.” As if that’ll entice me to spill my guts.

It doesn’t.

But I am surprised.

“You used to talk to me.”

I glance at her. “And you know why I stopped.” Why we all stopped, I want to add, but I also don’t want to be that much of a jerk. Truth is, Natalie is judgy and way too beholden to the Order. It’s why she didn’t know about Lily’s boyfriend. It’s why we all worry she’ll run and tell Elite Cain when we aren’t following rules. Her determination to become a commander overrides her wish to have friends.

“I said I was sorry,” she mutters.

“Doesn’t work if you don’t mean it.”

Her frustration is palpable, twisting in the air toward me like a darkling.

“Blake forgave me,” she says through her teeth.

“Because she was about to be sent into exile.”

“Because she knew I didn’t want to turn her in,” Natalie argues. “She was involved with the occult, Shy!”

It was a scandal when it was discovered. Blake was a year older than us and had just entered college when she got tangled up with death-speakers who joined the occult, which is the kind of stuff that happens in New York, not in our close-knit town. She started practicing—small stuff at first, but it quickly got out of control. One night, she came knocking on my door, one of her death-speaker friends dying in her arms. Some spell gone wrong. She asked Mom to help him, and she saved the kid’s life, but she was still suspended because “Valryn are not permitted to administer medical attention to humans.” The only reason Mom wasn’t exiled is because she was technically doing half her job—saving a human soul.

Mom doesn’t blame Natalie for what happened. She says the Order would have found out anyway, and she’s probably right. And maybe I’m not as mad at Natalie as I am at the Order for turning their back on Blake—someone who needed family and friendship more than the cold shoulder.

“I guess I just never thought Blake was capable of deceit,” Natalie says.

Her attitude sets me off.

“There. Right there.” My voice stings the air between us. “That’s where you’re wrong. It’s not that she was capable of deceit. She was helping a friend.”

“The Order doesn’t see it that way, Shy, and whether you like it or not, we’re sworn to uphold their laws. Blake knew that.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

I turn down a makeshift dirt road and park in a clearing—my usual spot. Natalie and I shift and fly to the Compound. We make our way down white marble halls veined with black toward Elite Cain’s office, our feet thudding against the cold stone like a drumbeat ticking off the minutes until our deaths.

Cain’s office is cold and hard. The floors are black marble, and where the walls aren’t slatelike in color, they are covered in heavy, black drapes. A glossy black desk sits just before a single, exposed window so crowded with trees, no light seeps through, and there Elite Cain stands, one hand behind his back, the other resting lightly on his desk. My father stands to the side.

Natalie and I come to a stop a few feet before them and salute, though Elite Cane doesn’t lift his eyes to us.

“It appears I’ve caught you two in a web.” Those words make my heart fall right into my stomach. “Knight-in-Training Rivera, you failed to inform us that Knight-in-Training Savior did not report for patrol last night.”

Natalie blanches. Well, at least she wasn’t lying when she said she didn’t report my absence.

“Where were you?” my father asks.

Simple question with a not-so-simple answer. I can either admit I was checking up on Anora, something that doesn’t look good, especially following Lily’s transgressions, death-speaker or not, or admit I was attacked by hellhounds and seek medical attention. How much more can I get tangled?

“I was attacked by a hellhound,” I say. For effect—and as evidence—I pull up the sleeve of my suit to show off my wounds.

Silence follows my admission, and I feel like I’m standing at the center of a frozen pond, the ice buckling beneath my feet.

“And you didn’t think it was important to report the attack? Or seek medical attention?”

That question doesn’t really require an answer, so I report what I discovered while fighting the hounds.

“The hellhounds didn’t react as they do in simulation,” I say.

“Hounds? There was more than one?” Another fact that contradicts my training—we’d been taught hellhounds don’t travel in packs.

“One attacked and I skewered its head. When it fell dead, I thought my job was done, but it multiplied, and then, no matter how many times I took a knife to their brains, they did not die.”

“And where did they go?”

“They disappeared.” Those words are thick on my tongue, like oil, black and sticky. My father and Cain exchange a look, and I wonder what they’re thinking.

Cain clears his throat. “In your absence, Knight-in-Training Rivera reported the soul of Vera Bennet missing. Were you aware?”

I’d say yes, but I’m already in deep. “Only this morning when she wasn’t in her place over Emerson.”

“And neither of you have any idea where she might have gone?”

Just when I am about to say no, Natalie opens her mouth.

“I have suspicions, Elite Cain.”

He raises his brows—most likely because of the use of suspicions and not evidence. The Order is a stickler for evidence before action is taken. “Go on.”

“There is a new girl at school. She’s supposedly from Chicago, but her last school has no record of her attendance.”

“You said she was kicked out of her last school,” I argue, recalling the accusation she’d made at lunch in front of all those students.

“Because that’s what her record says, but she apparently never even started. And before you suggest it, my father called.” Somehow, those words seem even more final by the set of her arms, crossed, one over the other.

“You think this girl has something to do with Vera’s disappearance?”

“Within her first day at Nacoma, a soul goes missing. That cannot be coincidence.”

“Perhaps not coincidence, but you have no evidence,” I remind her—also knowing Elite Cain will agree. “If your father thought this was an issue, he would’ve said something to the Order. But he doesn’t have evidence either.”

“I’d have to observe her longer than two days to be sure, but I think I can find the evidence,” Natalie says, not taking her eyes off Elite Cain. I know what’s she’s doing—asking for permission.

“See that you do,” Elite Cain says. “Why don’t you both work on this assignment together? I’ll count it as part of your training.”

I’m sort of relieved. If Elite Cain thought Anora might be an issue, he’d send his commanders to deal with her. Still, I’d prefer not having Natalie by my side while I watch her.

“With respect, Elite Cain, I work better alone,” I say.

“With respect, Knight-in-Training, you’re lucky I’m not putting you on probation for your actions.”

A part of me wonders if my dad had something to do with that, but I can’t believe he’d go to bat for me with Cain. The Order always comes first.

Elite Cain turns his disfavor to Natalie. “You might think it noble to protect a friend, but you are a shadow knight-in-training first and foremost. You are obligated to report misbehavior.”

“Yes, Elite Cain,” we say in unison.

“Now that we are understood, were either of you aware of Lily Martin’s relationship?”

It’s the question I’ve been waiting for, and it makes my stomach turn, but this is why Lily and I have our rule: We can’t get in trouble for what we don’t know.

“No, Elite Cain,” we say.

He watches us intently, like he thinks we might crack under pressure. After what seems like an eternity, he says, “You are both dismissed.”

We salute and turn to leave the room when Elite Cain calls out to me.

“Knight-in-Training Savior, report to the infirmary.”

I nod and leave, not waiting for Natalie as I stride down the obsidian halls.

“Shy!” Natalie’s feet slap against the marble floor as she hurries after me.

“Why did you put her in the path of the Order without evidence?” I demand, turning to face her.

“Because there’s something off about her.”

“Something off?” I ask, incredulous. “Could it be that you don’t like when anyone encroaches on our friend group? Thane bailed on us, Natalie. And Lily’s going to be on lockdown with the Order. We have a few vacancies at the moment, so why not Anora?”

“Just because you can’t look past a pretty face doesn’t mean she’s not hiding something, Shy. Besides, you’re just mad because you’re not the only one keeping tabs on her. Yeah, I know where you were last night—watching her.”

“You followed me?” I expect a lot of things from Natalie: disdain, disappointment, judgment, but not this. I grit my teeth together and narrow my eyes. “So why not tell Elite Cain I didn’t make it to patrol? Why not jump in while I was being attacked by hellhounds?”

“Because I don’t want you on probation like Jacobi. And you know how to handle yourself in a fight better than anyone. Besides, you aren’t my target. Anora is.”

“Anora doesn’t have to have a reason to be your target, Nat, and until she starts causing trouble, she isn’t your concern.”

“Not according to Elite Cain’s orders.”

“Why do you have to be so damned self-righteous?”

I leave her alone in the hallway.

In the infirmary, I sit on a metal table while a medic uses a solution in a clear bottle to clean my wounds, applies a smelly claylike substance to each mark, and then bandages my arm. I’m not there long when my father strides through the curtains. I glance at him and then focus intently on my arm.

“I thought those curtains were there for privacy.”

“Do you know the danger in what you’re doing?” he asks.

“Infection?”

My father maintains his cold, emotionless façade. “Does your mother know you didn’t go on patrol?”

“I wasn’t where I was supposed to be last night,” I correct. “That doesn’t mean I wasn’t doing my job.”

“Part of doing your job is obeying orders.”

“Even when I disagree with them?” I’m aware this conversation has become something very different than I intend.

“You are a knight-in-training. You don’t get to have an opinion.”

“You sure? Because I actually have a lot of them.”

My father takes a step closer and leans in, inches from my face. I want to move away, but I also know it’s important to hold my ground, especially since what I’ve been saying sounds like treason.

“You might think you’re standing up for something grand, but when you do it wrong, it’s not you who will suffer for your actions, it’s the people you love. Do you understand?”

“Are you threatening Mom?” My voice breaks as I speak.

My father straightens as if I slapped him. It’s the only indication I have that he’s startled by my suggestion, because his features—even his eyes, so like mine—haven’t changed.

“That is a display of your ignorance,” he says.

“False.” I push myself off the metal table and stand. “You’re hurting her already, but you wouldn’t know that because you’re never home.”

I honestly don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’ve been the good soldier in my father’s shadow for so long, but it’s like the last few days have flipped a switch inside me.

I await his reprimand, my punishment for defying him, but my father only stares at me, saying nothing, so I start to move past him.

“Shy,” he says, and there’s something in his voice that makes me turn back. For a second, his expression looks full of regret, but then it’s like a gate drops and his cool manner returns.

I shake my head, and then, because this may be the only time I can get away with this, I add, “And you know what? I’ll always be here to save Mom, because she’s been there to save me. But you—who will be there for you? Elite Cain?” I pause to scoff. “You’re just a commander, remember?”

My father’s shoulders go rigid, but I don’t wait for anything—for words or his scorn. I leave. I promised Mom I’d be home for dinner anyway.