Gravity bore down on Yagrin as the city grew small beneath the chopper. He could swear it was his own heart he heard swooping faster and faster overhead. He turned his phone in his hands as the pilot, Charlie, eyed him in the mirror. He’d just met Red. He had bound at Third Rite like everyone else. He rehearsed his lies. He would act like nothing was wrong until they had proof there was.
The world tipped like a yacht caught in a storm as they turned and he spotted the sprawling Hartsboro, but the aircraft didn’t descend. It kept going. When they touched down, a copper glow kissed the Cape’s waters beyond them. He’d only ever visited Mother’s Massachusetts home once before.
“Headmistress will meet you in the library shortly.”
Yagrin checked his phone. Still no sign Red had shaken the others and made it home. Nerves swam in his gut as he hurried inside.
“Fratris, fortunam,” someone said.
“A fortuna.” He spun. Felix.
They shook, then pressed fists together and to their chests.
“Thought you’d be here. I saw your father here a bit ago.”
“My father?” His heart stuttered. Facing off against Headmistress was one thing, but his father could always tell when he was lying. “And what are you doing here?” Did Felix know anything about this interrogation Yagrin was about to endure? “I thought the Dragunhead had you out West on a big assignment over the Duncans.”
“Mother called in a favor.” Felix glanced over his shoulder, then lifted the tail of his coat where ruffled papers were shoved into his pants pocket. “Tracking coordinates,” he whispered before unfolding them. His eyebrows bounced.
Tracking . . . “She’s looking for the Sphere?”
“Aye. Got a list of the previous places it’s been. I’m starting with those.”
Mother was looking for the Sphere . . . why? “Anything else you can share?” Yagrin pressed.
“Nothing to report yet. She’s intent on getting some eyes on it to see what’s causing the shift. No one wants that thing to break.” Felix was a bit wild, which made him a very effective Dragun. But he was naive when it came to Mother. If she had him privately looking for the Sphere, it wasn’t just because she was curious. Rikken’s warning about a Headmistress trying to find the Sphere sludged through his memory just as Charlie poked his head into the hall, and Yagrin went cold all over. “I should get going.”
He and Felix shook again. “Tell your father I said hello.”
Yagrin stepped into the sitting room outside of the library, and his heart stopped. There in a leather wingback was his father, flipping through a hunting magazine. He cleared his throat, and his father’s gaze floated up and down him, unmoved, before he returned to his reading.
Just like that, Yagrin was turning seventeen all over again at his birthday dinner. That year his father managed to attend. He’d even brought him a gift. But when he found Yagrin had earned three nights in the cold as punishment for low marks at Hartsboro, he hemmed him up right there in public in front of everyone and no one. He told him if he botched things up again, the family was done with him completely. He decided his father was dead to him that moment.
Yagrin checked his phone. Still nothing from Red. His blood boiled. If they hurt her . . . The doors to Headmistress Perl’s library opened. Yagrin stood. His father did as well. But only her assistant emerged. She leaned into his father’s ear, whispering, and his scowl deepened.
“Tell him,” his father said gruffly, tossing the magazine aside before leaving.
The assistant cleared her throat. “Headmistress Perl had something urgent come up. She still needs to discuss an important matter with you. But she’ll summon you again very soon. In the meantime, she asked me to give you this message.” She handed him an envelope before retreating inside the double doors.
Yagrin’s breath should come easier knowing he didn’t have to face Beaulah Perl and his father today, but his heart stammered as he ripped open the letter.
Duty is the honor of the willing.
She knew. She must. He shoved the note in his jacket pocket, his pulse thundering. Air, he needed air. He flagged one of the maids. “Get me a pilot to the front lawn to ready the chopper.”
“Sir, you are welcome to stay for—”
“Do what I said, now.”
She hurried off and guilt twisted in him like a corkscrew. He shouldn’t have yelled at her like that. He rushed out to the grass and looked for an aircraft light. Frustration tangled in him like a nest of barbed wire. He was glad he didn’t have to see Mother today. Whatever she knew he wasn’t prepared to face. He needed to make a decision, for once in his life. To stand for something or to not. Because the next time she summoned him, he’d have to answer to her and his father.
The tip of the sun disappeared below the horizon and it reminded him of golden red hair. He could finish his job, apprehend the freckle-faced girl before she debuted, obey, like a good Dragun. Or . . . an idea struck him.
The bird’s lights clicked on and he rushed toward it, checking his phone again, tapping Red’s name and ramming the End button when he heard her voicemail.
If he could find the Sphere’s location before Felix, he could barter it with Headmistress when they next met. He could come clean to her about what he really wanted—out of the Order. And she would have to grant it to him. He slid into the bird and clicked his safety belt in place. Tracking the Sphere was the only thing Yagrin had outscored everyone on in Dragun training. Even his own family.
He weighed his choices, checking his phone again. He fired off a text to no response. He bit down. He couldn’t keep this up much longer. They knew about Red now. It would only be a matter of time before they knew what she meant to him. And found a reason she should die.
The pilot’s voice buzzed in his ear, “So where to?”
“To the Tavern.” He needed to meet with a Trader. He’d made his decision.
