“You’re going to need however many spare soldiers you can get, aren’t you? I’ll help hold off the rebels.”
“What? You can’t—it’s too dangerous.” Even as the words leave my mouth, I don’t know why I’m saying them. What he said is true, after all, and Noah is a gifted soldier. He could help the Order tremendously, even if his gift—whatever it is—isn’t suited to battle. “You’re too important to the military. Once all this is over, Austin is going to need you more than ever. You have to be there to help him.”
However, Noah is shaking his head before I’ve even finished. “You don’t understand. I need to be there. I … I have to make up for everything I’ve done on the Council’s orders. Please. I need this as much as the Order does.”
I hesitate, but his presence is solid with resolve. His earlier conflicting emotions are still there, but they’re secondary now to his determination. Why am I hesitating? There should be no reason for me to say no. The Order needs all the help it can get. He’s proven countless times he’s on our side. Yet I recall the last time he spoke about the things he’d done on the Council’s orders. The fear, the regret.
I grab his hand. “Noah. If you come, you have to promise you’ll try to survive.”
He opens his mouth, closes it again. Stares at me.
The anxiety beating against my chest strengthens. “You said you wanted to make up for what you’ve done, right? I don’t know the details or what you think you have to make up for, but you can’t do it if you’re dead, right? That’s why, if you want to repent for whatever wrongs you feel you’ve done on behalf of the Council, the best way you can do that is by helping Austin correct their mistakes. Only you can do that. If you understand, I’ll gladly welcome you into the Order’s ranks. If not, I’ll have to refuse your assistance.”
Noah’s eyes drop to the floor. He takes a deep breath. Several heartbeats pass before he looks back up at me. This time, the resolve of his presence is a different shade. “I understand. Now come with me and we’ll get together everything and everyone we can to help the Order.”
31
LAI
I’M NERVOUS ABOUT standing in front of the Order again. It’ll be my first time talking from the stage as Lai, the cover of Walker dead with Fiona. I know how I must look, one-armed and tired. As much as I clean myself up, and even after I’ve changed into more formal clothes to address everyone, I’m not blind. I can see the exhaustion in my face. In the way I move when I’m not careful.
But Trist, Peter, and Syon stick close to me. Before I have to walk out onstage, they hug me so close their heartbeats pound against my ears.
“All will be well, Lai,” Trist murmurs.
“And if for some reason it’s not, we’ll be right there with you,” Peter says. When he lets go, he takes my shoulders and, smiling, squeezes them. It’s such a different smile from the easy one he wore before Paul’s death. But it’s a more resilient one. A fiercer one. “Go get ’em, Lai.”
Syon solemnly signs encouragement to me before squeezing my hand.
“Way to almost make me cry right before I have to go talk to the entire Order, you guys.”
Trist laughs as he pounds me on the back. “That is why we are here.”
I smile. Even if I lose the Order, I know these three will still be here for me. No matter how this goes, I won’t be alone.
“Well,” I say, “let’s get this show on the road.”
I walk out onstage with Trist and Peter close behind. Their presence alone makes me calmer than I would’ve thought possible with everything going on.
The room stills and quiets as I take my place on the stage. Unlike when I hid behind the illusion of Walker, everyone sees me as I am. I’m overly conscious of my missing arm, and how it feels like a physical reminder of everything we’ve lost. Of how I let everyone down.
But even so, I’m still fighting. Still going. In spite of it all.
I lift my chin proudly before the room of a thousand people watching me. Even though the illusion of Walker is gone, I adopt my old accent from Sector Four to speak in the voice everyone recognizes as hers. “I would first like to apologize