The morning sun filtered through the high windows of the training gym. We’d been training for hours; it was already a little past breakfast time, and yet I felt as if I were barely awake and functioning. I usually performed better than this during training. Once, I’d even earned an approving nod from Belle, who usually doled out her compliments with all the generosity of a miser.
Today, I was sluggish, falling to easy attacks. I was also careless, though having to block both Belle and Chae Rin at the same time wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.
Harder still if your mind was elsewhere.
“You need to concentrate.” Chae Rin stuck out a hand to help me up, but the moment I touched her fingers and began to pull myself off the ground, she snapped hers away, letting me fall back down. “And stop letting your guard down,” she added, using her staff to hit my leg.
Belle nudged my head with her staff and flicked her chin up. “On your feet.”
I got up, my bones burning as I picked my staff off the ground. The white bandages around my left arm, the ones I tied there to sop up the blood after one of Chae Rin’s attacks, were starting to come unfurled. Lake probably wasn’t having an easier time, having to climb the thick rope set up a few feet away from us all the way to the very high ceiling. She was halfway up, but I could hear her whimpering from down here as she climbed, inch by painful inch.
“What’s wrong?” Chae Rin tapped her staff against the floor, forcing a flinch out of me. “You’re distracted. What’s going on in there?”
“Is it Natalya?” Belle suddenly launched an attack, twisting around to sweep me off my feet again. I jumped, dodging it this time, turning quickly to block Chae Rin’s staff. The loud crack of wood against wood reverberated against the ceiling.
“No,” I grunted, blocking Belle’s next attack while leaning back to dodge Chae Rin. “This steel thingy is keeping the voices under control in there.”
The neck-band was still around my neck like a dog collar. The back of my neck kept chafing from Mellie’s stupid injection, and it was all I could do to keep my fingers from scratching the itch at the base of my neck, but it was doing its job.
“If that’s the case, then maybe we should try scrying again.” Belle lowered her staff. “We don’t know when Saul will attack next. We have to get ahead of him. But with the existence of those soldiers and more rogues potentially within the Sect, the issue’s getting more complicated. Last night, I tried searching the flash drive Philip gave us, but it’s encrypted. Natalya might have an idea of what Saul’s plan is.”
“If she’d even tell me,” I said, touching my neck. “She seems more interested in playing games—‘Find the Keys to Maia’s Body,’ for one.”
I caught myself. Belle couldn’t help letting the displeasure show on her face whenever someone—anyone—said something negative about Natalya. It was understandable. Nobody would be cool with hearing someone crap on their hero. Even if there was a grain of truth to the smack.
Or a silo.
But truth and lies were dangerous, messy constructs, especially when they concerned Natalya. Even if this steel albatross around my neck stopped her from bleeding too heavily into my subconscious, I doubted it could keep her from leading me in the wrong direction.
“Look, I’m not crazy about having to go back in there, but since I’m your two-way radio, there’s nothing I can really do about it,” I said. “But, Belle, you’ll have to help me.”
Belle was about as easy to read as the Rosetta Stone. She said nothing as she stared back at me calmly, and I wondered, as I always did, which one of us she saw—the protégé or the mentor? But to her credit, over the past few weeks, Belle had legitimately tried to help me learn to scry properly, safely. She led our training, preparing us for the battles to come.
She was making an effort for us. For the team.
But when it came to scrying, the breathing techniques that worked for her didn’t necessarily work for me. Belle was naturally calm; of course the process was easier for her.
“Scrying still isn’t easy for me.” I rubbed my chest as I remembered the way Natalya’s mind had spread across mine like a virus, filling my body like too much air in a balloon. If I could get away with it, I’d never try to contact her again.
Belle thought for a moment. “There is a place we could go to.”
“A place?”
“Here in London. They might be able to help with the process.”
Suddenly, Chae Rin’s staff hit my back, sending me flying to the floor.
“Hey!” I spat, flipping onto my back to see her standing over me.
“You’re right; you should talk to Natalya again. Also, like I said.” She set the staff against her shoulder. “Never let your guard down.”
The double doors opened, the loud creak reverberating through the gym.
“Oh great, it’s that guy.” Chae Rin rolled her eyes as Brendan walked through the doors. He had the same prim suit on, though he’d changed his tie to match his new dress shirt.
“Good morning, girls. Good to see you keeping yourselves fighting ready.”
I grimaced at the cheesiness, but Brendan didn’t seem to notice. He kept his hands behind his back while he strolled toward us with a good-natured smile. There weren’t any signs of last night’s vulnerability, no sign of the boy whose eyes had welled up at the sight of his little brother crying in front of him.
“Usually I wouldn’t come down here myself,” Brendan started.
“Look at that, we’re so blessed.” Chae Rin turned from him. “God, I miss Sibyl,” she added as she twisted her staff around and began to practice on her own.
Brendan coughed. “What I mean is, I’m here because I’d like to ask you something.”
“What’s up?” Lake grunted a bit as she let go of the rope and let herself drop from that great height, landing on the ground with a puff of air that blew up her training shorts. “Oh, no. Saul didn’t do anything, did he?” Scurrying up to him, she grabbed him by the arm. “Was there an attack? Do we have to fight? We don’t have to fight, do we?” She tugged at him childishly. “Please, please, no. I need a break. See? My skin is horrid, my eyes are sunken—it’s all the stress.”
Lake was starting to break out on her forehead, something I’d previously thought impossible with all the expensive skin-care products (one of which she endorsed) that she kept in our shared bathroom. But Brendan wasn’t looking at her forehead. He was looking at her gorgeous face. That is, before his eyes, for a shameful second, slid down to the T-shirt tied around her stomach.
“Uh, excuse me.” I leaned over and snapped my fingers.
Brendan jumped out of Lake’s grip so quickly his glasses slid down his nose. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Victoria—uh, everyone—no, Saul hasn’t attacked.” He gulped and inched away from her. Another fanboy. Perfect. “There’s something I need to ask one of you to do.”
“Get to it.” Belle folded her arms as Lake went to pick up her water bottle by the side of the wall.
Brendan twitched under the pressure of Belle’s intensity, but he kept his composure nonetheless. Impressive. “Blackwell is holding a black-tie fund-raiser this Thursday. Very exclusive. Nothing but the political elite.”