Right now, I feelbetterthan I have for most of the past couple of weeks.
And that’s mainly because I no longer have any poison trickling through me, wearing me down bit by bit.
I ignore Jacob’s gaze, even though I can feel it lingering on me as we weave onward between the trees. Something about the night when the train nearly ended me spun him around from accusing to ashamed, but I haven’t totally recovered from the emotional whiplash of the switch yet.
How can I be sure he won’t change his mind all over again with some other move I make?
I inhale deeply, filling my lungs with the cool piney air, and freeze at the sound of a twig snapping.
Crack, crack, crack, three times in quick succession. That’s the signal Zian said he’d give if he spotted anything.
Without a word, the rest of us slink through the forest to join him. He’s pulled a little ahead of the rest of us, standing now at the crest of a low, mossy cliff.
He waits until we’ve all gathered around him and points down the steep slope. All I can make out are more trees, but Zian must be looking right through them.
“The path branches in two directions just up there,” he says under his breath, barely louder than the rustle of the wind through the leaves overhead. “There’s a small hut right at the junction, and I think someone’s inside it.”
Andreas peers in that direction as if he thinks he might see through solid objects too if he tries hard enough. “You figure it’s a guard house?”
Zian nods. “Or something like that. I guess it could be a park ranger thing, but… if the glimpse I got is what I think it is, the guy inside is wearing a metal helmet.”
A guardian. My pulse hiccups, and my muscles tense instinctively.
Jacob’s mouth sets in a grim line. “We go down there and question him, but we have to be careful about it. There might be others around, and he’s probably got a way to alert them if there’s trouble.”
Dom looks at him. “If there’s no one else nearby when we get close enough to check, you could yank him right out with your powers before he even sees us.”
Andreas shakes his head. “Not at first. Remember the guardians that caught us in the old facility? This one might be able to block me from getting a good look at his memories… if he knows he needs to be blocking me.”
Jacob offers him a hesitant smile, as if he isn’t sure how Andreas will take his interjection even if it’s in agreement. “Yeah, Drey should take a peek first and find out as much as he can that way before we get into a physical altercation.”
I assume we’ve settled it, but Dom’s gaze slides to me. “What do you think, Riva?”
It’s the first time any of them have asked my opinion while they’re working out their strategy on this mission. For most of the past couple of weeks, they’ve been ignoring my opinion even when I insisted on giving it.
I hesitate, feeling the pressure of their combined attention on me. I don’t really have anything to add. My skills aren’t going to be especially helpful in an interrogation.
At least, not the typical ones.
“It all sounds good,” I say. “But if he catches on, I guess I can bring out my sob story again to distract him from blocking Andreas.”
Jacob’s jaw ticks at the words “sob story”—his dismissive phrase, flung more than once in my face.
Andreas shoots me a smile even more uncertain than the one Jacob gave him. “I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t have to.”
I shrug as if it’s no big deal, but I’d really prefer to avoid baring my soul for some stranger all over again if I get a choice in the matter.
If I have to, though… I just want to find this woman and finish the mission. Then we’ll know what we actually have—and whether there’s been a point to any of this.
We ease down the hill, setting our feet even more carefully than before. By the time we’ve reached the base of the cliff, I can make out a few slivers of a structure through the trees. The hut is built out of wood to blend into the forest, but the logs have darkened with the beating of the weather over the years.
Andreas takes the lead, since it’s his talent’s range that matters for this first part of the plan. He walks slowly and softly through the brush, his gaze fixed straight ahead.
When he stops, we all do as well, a few steps behind him.
For several minutes, we all just wait there, making no more noise than breathing. Andreas stays still and silent too, but I can see the effort he’s making in the stiffening of his stance.
His shoulders come down abruptly with a faintly ragged exhalation. He treads back toward us.