I don’t know why we need all of this. All we need are the horses and the orb—which is in Cordero’s possession. Which annoys me even more.
Giant Travis Low stands at the entrance with a wad of tobacco tucked into his lower lip. I don’t realize I’m shaking my head in frustration until he pulls the door open for me and says, “Let ’em have it, whoever it is.”
“Right?” Maia points a thumb at me. “We’re friends and roommates so I’m safe.”
“As long as you don’t snore,” I say.
Low likes this. He splits a grin and offers his knuckles. I knock mine into them, feeling like I’ve fist-bumped a cement block.
Inside, people are still plugging in extension cords and setting up laptops, printers, whatever. A power drill whines as it tightens screws. The people doing the work are single-minded, seeing nothing beyond what’s in front of them.
A couple of tables have been pushed together at the center. Cordero is at the head, speaking in a slow, methodical voice to the entire team like she’s delivering a presentation to the board of directors. She sees me as I take the empty seat between Marcus and Maia but she keeps talking, not missing a beat.
No, no, no. Don’t wait for me to start, Cordero. I’m only the one who controls getting us into the Rift.
Carry on.
I listen for a little while. Her report covers this location. What can be expected from the weather—warm days, cold nights. Wind. Possible stray thunderstorms. Blah blah blah, we’re not going on vacation, so why does this matter? She describes the security. There are teams at all of the main access points into the valley; drones will monitor everything else. We don’t need to worry about planes, since this piece of land is an annex to an Air Force base a hundred miles south. Call me crazy, but I wasn’t worried.
She’s clearly proud of this place. Of having pulled this together. I struggle to care. I should care. But seeing as how this meeting started without me, and would have happened whether I was here or not, it’s not easy.
My attention wanders to Isabel. Is she at the cabin? Waiting tables at the ranch? On her way to Peru on some other task as a Seeker?
Then it wanders to Gideon, who’s sitting right across the table, tipping back in his chair.
I haven’t had a chance to look at him, really do it, but now that we’ve reached a peace accord of sorts, I feel I can.
He’s wearing a black baseball cap turned backward and I notice his honey-blond hair is long enough to peek beneath his ears and that his nose is pink with a light sunburn. He’s gotten more muscular through the shoulders in the past few months. Broader. Not husky, but definitely stronger. That, and the newfound experience in his eyes, makes him look older.
I wonder if he runs or lifts weights, and if so, if it’s tougher to do with his prosthetic or if it makes no difference.
I’ve always had this feeling around him like he’s bigger than the space he occupies—that hasn’t changed. Some people have presence like that. They’re noticeable without trying to be. It’s his innate confidence, I think. He looks like he never feels the need to be anyone other than himself. It’s compelling. A spatially tangible confidence.
Gideon’s eyelids have been growing heavier as I’ve been watching him. Desire kindles inside me and speeds up my pulse, just like when he treated my back. He’s not trying to look sexy. But it’s happening anyway. When he stifles a yawn, I find myself smiling.
Until his blue eyes slide over to me.
I look past him, like the power-drill action in the back is really interesting.
Civil and professional, Daryn. Civil and professional.
Cordero is still going on about “camp” like soon we’ll be paddling in canoes and roasting s’mores. “No one goes anywhere after dark alone. Camp lights will run all night but this playa is one hundred and twenty square miles. Getting lost is still a real danger. Okay. Let’s take a quick fifteen-minute break before we turn to the mission plan.”
People start heading to the coffee station set up in the back.
“A break?” I say. “It’s almost three. Shouldn’t we get going?” Cordero looks up from her yellow pad. “Aren’t we going back in tonight?”
“Hello, Daryn. We’re going to make our foray into the Rift tomorrow morning.”
“Why not this afternoon?”
“We’re still getting set and we need to create a strategy. We’re not going to charge in there without a plan.”
The condescension in her voice is almost imperceptible. But it’s enough to make the blood roar in my ears. “How long does it take to create a strategy?”
“Reasonably?” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Until tomorrow morning. There are a lot of variables to consider. Terrain assessment. Threat assessment. Search procedures. Contingencies. Communication between the two teams, and so on.”
I’m so tired of hearing about teams I’m not part of. “What teams?”
“It’s on the other side of your agenda,” Ben offers.
I flip over the paper in front of me and see the breakdown. The three guys, which I had expected. But then I see Travis Low. Jared Suarez. Maia Goss. Natalie Cordero. Ben Halpern. “I don’t understand. Are all these people going in, too? Why?”
“It’s safer. We can get spread out and get more accomplished.”
“It’s not safer! We don’t need them. They’ll just end up getting hurt.” I look at Marcus beside me. “It should just be us.”
“But it won’t be,” Cordero says impatiently, like she’s answering the questions of a simpleton. “You told me there are dozens of the Harrows. ‘Maybe even more’ were your exact words. Everyone on the list is highly trained and has experience in combat. And Ben and I will be gathering data that could prove indispensable.”
“Okay, great. Sounds like it’ll be a great party.” I get up and toss the agenda on the table. “Enjoy your coffee and your fancy mobile center and your printed agenda. Let me know when you want to get Bastian. I’m ready.”
*
I go right back to Shadow.
One of the military guys is posted at the portable stable. He wears reflective sunglasses and a deadly smile that reminds me of a crocodile. I have no idea who he is, but he lets me in without question, and says nothing when I bring her out ten minutes later, tacked up and ready to ride.
I mount up and take her straight out into the desert.
After a few minutes I feel her stride lengthening, her muscles loosening, and it feels good to be with her, only her, though I’m sure that up in the fading blue sky somewhere a drone is keeping tabs on me.
If I had the orb, I’d go back in there after Bas right now. Maybe I don’t have what it takes to fight a bunch of terrifying Harrows, but I’d try. I’ve gone past the point of waiting. I’ve become allergic to wasting time. Finding Bas feels possible and urgent.