Chapter The Historian
After his friends’ departure, despite Alasdair’s suggestion, Storm didn’t sleep much. His thoughts returned to the Sleeper and everything she’d revealed to him. Phoenix had stopped doing public appearances years ago, but Storm had chalked it up to his own existence alleviating the need for the pioneer to be seen.
Your ego is showing.
The bemused voice in the back of Storm’s mind echoed Declan.
Storm barely managed to doze when Alasdair returned a few hours later, bleary-eyed, to accompany him to the library.
They passed Declan on their way out of the ambassador’s wing as his shift ended, pausing for a moment to check if the Guardian had any trouble following Storm’s expedition. With Alasdair’s new involvement, the Engineer smoothed over any discrepancies on the technological side: something Declan expressed gratitude for because it saved him the headache.
Another door in the wing opened, and the three of them fell silent as Zayne stepped out of his quarters into the hall.
The Ambassador’s brows rose a little in surprise. “Early morning meeting?” he asked as his gaze flicked between the three of them.
“Something like that,” Storm said easily. “Catching up with Dec between his shift and his sleep schedule before ’Dair’s day starts.”
“Ah.” Zayne’s expression gave nothing away even as his friends shifted uneasily. “Well, I’ve got a meeting too, so I guess I’ll see you later. Try not to work too hard.”
Declan blew out a hard breath as Zayne rounded the corner down the hall. “Think he’s onto us?”
Storm snorted. “I’d be surprised if he’s not.”
“Do—do we tell him?”
“Nope. You two found out accidentally, but I’m not going to egregiously break Sleeper tenets.”
“Agreed,” Alasdair said. “The fewer people who know about this, the better.”
Storm and Alasdair parted ways with Declan then, continuing on to the library while Declan disappeared into his own quarters.
A few minutes before eight, Devika blinked up at them in surprise as Storm and Alasdair entered her office. “Hey guys, everything okay?”
Storm didn’t answer directly. “Can we sit?”
The Historian observed them with a shadow of concern. “Sure.” She looked up at Alasdair. “What’s going on?”
“I can’t stay long. I have a meeting in a few,” the Engineer replied, glancing at his phone. “But I wanted to tell you I couldn’t access anything else about the Fallen, after you asked.”
“So Kit suggested I come see you,” Storm chimed in. At Devika’s wide-eyed expression, he gestured toward the Engineer. “He knows. So does Declan.”
Devika’s scowl could have melted glass. “Do the rules mean anything to you—”
“They found out accidentally,” Storm said hastily as Alasdair chuckled. “Don’t worry, her cover’s safe. ’Dair’s here because he wants to help.”
Devika’s concerned gaze flickered back to Alasdair as she chewed the inside of her lip. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He offered her a half-smile and a shrug.
Devika’s posture relaxed, but her brows still knitted together. “What do you need?”
“The subjects about the Fallen you can’t access here. The ones requiring Myragos creds.”
“Why?” Devika asked, cocking her head.
Storm took a deep breath. “Because…I can enter Myragos,” he shared, resting his elbows on his knees. “If it’s something the Myragnar might know…I can go ask them.”
“Stars, that never occurred to me,” Devika whispered.
The corner of Storm’s mouth quirked up. “You and everyone else. I’m just waiting for approval.”
“Approval for what?”
“Traveling through Valëtyria. They have to clear me.”
“More security protocols?” she asked, glancing at Alasdair.
The Engineer snorted. “To travel to the capitol city? Of course there are. Only Commanders and High Councilors can travel between here and there on a whim. Everyone else has to be scheduled and recorded, and hacking a portal is not something I want to risk.”
“Well, at least we’re not doing that again,” a new voice chimed in. “So what exactly are we doing?”
Zayne stood in the doorway with his arms crossed.
The others side-eyed each other with expressions ranging from panic to dismay, struggling to formulate a plausible explanation.
The Ambassador dropped his chin to his chest, exasperated, before meeting their gazes again. “Look, I don’t do this. Sneaking around corners, eavesdropping…but it feels like you’re all in some secret club or something.”
Storm leaned back in his chair. “What makes you say that?”
“I have eyes and ears?” Zayne snarked. “I might be gone a lot, but I still notice when my friends interact…and when they don’t. So if you’re doing something stupid, I’d like to know ahead of time so I can do any necessary damage control.”
Alasdair snorted. “Nice of you.”
“Whatever it is, I want to help,” Zayne amended. “Unless you’re planning a surprise party for me or something, you can tell me.”
Despite his attempt at humor, no one laughed.
Storm regarded him warily, scrambling for an acceptable answer. “I’ve been…going into the city at night.”
Zayne glanced at Devika, then back to the silverblood. “What on earth for?”
“Answers,” Storm hedged. “About—about what happened to my mom.”
It was close enough to the truth, anyway.
The Ambassador studied Devika again while she returned the scrutiny warily, then he huffed a sigh. “Stars, if it’s about Kitara Vakrenade, and you all know what I think you know, I’ve been in on it for years.”
Devika sat back and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I knew it.”
Storm held up his hands. “Wait a minute. What do you mean you’ve ’been in on it?’ Been in on what?”
Zayne rolled his eyes. “She and my mom got close when she was younger, and I’m not an idiot, so my mom confirmed when I asked if she became a Sleeper. That’s why I know Kitara transferred here a while ago.” He gestured at Devika. “And why I thought I recognized you. You two are friends, right?”
Devika nodded slowly.
Storm stared at him in disbelief. “You knew she was here, that she was a Sleeper…this whole time?”
Zayne frowned. “Hey, you can’t exactly throw stones here. Sleeper tenets and all that. I had to sign an insane NDA after my mom told me.”
“Damn.” Alasdair ran a hand over his locs. “I’ll admit, whatever I thought you were about to say, it was…not that.”
“So, whatever’s going on…it is about Kitara?”
Storm crossed his arms as he tipped back his chair, balancing on the back legs. “The High Council made me her handler when she transferred to headquarters.”
Zayne choked. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, at my dad’s suggestion. I’ve been going into the city to meet up with her.”
“And Declan knows too?”
“Dec and Alasdair sorta…stumbled across my extracurricular activities,” Storm muttered.
Alasdair rolled his eyes. “And by ‘stumbled,’ he means he was dumb enough to get caught.”
Storm ignored him. “Devika is her assigned Historian, helping research whatever Kitara needs for her mission.”
“So you’re all here for research?” Zayne asked. “Why are you talking about hacking a portal, then?”
“Storm’s going to Myragos,” Devika volunteered.
“But Storm went through the proper channels,” Alasdair added hastily. “No one’s hacking anything this time.”
“One less thing to worry about then,” Zayne said. “What about the High Councilor?”
Storm shook his head. “We’re hoping I can get there and back again without him noticing.”
“That’s…optimistic,” Zayne replied dubiously.
“It’s all we can do right now.”
“A lot of texts about the Fallen are secured with Myragos tech, and he’s the only one who can go there anytime he wants.” Devika elaborated.
Zayne ran a hand through his brown curls. “Alright, I’m in.”
“Zayne, you don’t have to—”
“I’m in,” the Ambassador repeated firmly, ignoring Storm’s interruption. “So what can I do to help? I’ll be gone on another diplomatic excursion in a few days, but until then, I’m free between phone calls.”
“Your mom’s support might be helpful, if you think she’ll give it,” Storm suggested.
“You want me to tell her what’s going on?” Zayne asked dubiously.
“No!” the others exclaimed at once.
Storm let out a strained chuckle. “I just mean…if we get caught, interceding with her might go better if you do it.”
Zayne nodded slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay… I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Great,” Storm said as his phone chirped with a notification. His chair thumped back onto all fours as he retrieved the device to review it.
Travel approval.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Good news. My travel is cleared for tomorrow.”
“Good timing,” Alasdair said with obvious relief. “I have to get to my meeting.”
“I’ve got a meeting too, for real this time,” Zayne continued, glancing at Storm. “Keep me updated, okay?”
Storm nodded. “Will do.”
The Ambassador and the Engineer slipped out, leaving the silverblood and the Historian alone in the library.
The former stifled a yawn. “I need some sleep,” he muttered. “I didn’t get back last night till late. Or early, depending on how you look at it.”
Devika nodded. “And you’ll need all your wits about you for this.”
“Are there any particular files or anything you want me to look for in Myragos? Do you want to make a list?”
“Could you call me from there instead?” she asked in response. “I can help narrow down what we need faster. And if you come across any additional texts about the Ninthëvels, I should be able to identify which of those are relevant, too.”
Storm’s brow furrowed. “Right, the Ninthëvels. Kitara mentioned something about them. Asked if my mom ever talked about them.”
Devika nodded. “I think they may be more involved than I originally thought. The only thing any texts mention is some sort of ‘fearsome power,’ which makes it sound like Valëtyria didn’t have a chance of stopping them without the Fallen formula. I want to try and find out why that is.”
Storm nodded. “Okay. I’ll video chat with you if possible. If not…” He paused, considering. “I’ll probably violate a dozen security protocols, but I’ll try to make copies of whatever I can so you can look them over.”
“That would be great.”
“Thanks for all your help, Dev. Your expertise is invaluable.”
She blushed a little. “Just doing my job.”
As Storm headed for the door, she called to his retreating back. “Storm?”
He turned. “Yeah?”
Her eyes blazed. “You should know—if you hurt Kitara or endanger her in any way, I will punt you so hard you’ll hit the stratosphere. Silverblood or not.”
By the expression on her face, Storm had no doubt she meant every word. “Duly noted,” he said without a hint of irony, then slipped from the library office.