are hugely respected and known to be loyalists.”
“My parents and my brother,” I interrupted. “Not me.”
He spread his hands, offering a crooked smile that looked apologetic. “Yes, of course. But I don’t think it’d be very difficult for you to integrate yourself enough in the local fearmancer society to find out more than I’ve been able to. All you’d need to do is pretend to take off from the school and to be looking for a way to win back your parents’ favor. Tell them the new guard was treating you horribly—they’ll believe it without much questioning.”
I shifted my attention from him to Rory, the person in the room I trusted most. “You want me to go out to Portland acting like I’ve turned my back on you all so I can ask around about this ‘conspiracy’?”
She tipped her head to the side. “Essentially, but we’re not ordering. It’s a request that you can accept or refuse. No one here expects you to put yourself at risk unless you’re okay with it. If you agree to get involved, we’ll come up with a full cover story and strategy, and you’d go out there as a sort of mole. Work your way into their confidence and their plans as much as you can until you find out enough that we’ll be able to stop them.”
“Back into the lion’s den,” Jude said in the same flippant tone, but his gaze was more sober than before.
They were hoping I’d reach out to the sort of fearmancers who believed the former barons should have won, that we should be well on our way to enslaving all nonmagical people by now—the sort of mages who admired my parents and their opinions…
My chest constricted at the thought. It’d been unsettling enough enduring the hostility of all those supposed ‘loyalists’ from a distance. I could only imagine what sorts of remarks they might make to my face until they believed I was really on their side now.
If I could convince them of that. What would it take to win them over?
A deeper chill seeped through me. Rory didn’t really understand what she was asking. She hadn’t experienced much of fearmancer society outside of campus, where the headmistress kept more extreme views in line. Jude knew what I was in for.
I’d never wanted to become any kind of secret agent. I’d turned to Rory at the beginning of the conflict to avoid being placed on the front lines. But it made sense that they’d ask me. Who else was there that they’d trust enough to take on this job and who also had strong enough ties that the reapers would consider including me?
What awfulness would these people rain down on the new barons if I kept out of the situation instead? Would they lose everything they’d worked so hard to build?
I measured my words carefully, doing my best to keep all the emotions churning inside me out of my voice. “Can I take some time to think about it?”
“Of course,” Rory said without even checking with the others. Maybe they’d already figured I’d ask something like that. “I know it’s a huge request. Take all the time you need to think it over. And just so you know, you wouldn’t be out there alone. One of us would go along as a nearby contact—for whatever support you need.”
“And I’ll be there to lay the groundwork for your cover story and tell you what I can about the key players,” Emeric put in, as if I was supposed to be comforted by the presence of some guy I’d never even seen before yesterday.
I set one hand over the other in my lap, twining my fingers together. “All right. I’ll think it over and let you know when I have my answer.”
As I stood up, Malcolm set his elbows on his desk, his expression even darker than before. “Don’t take too long. The more time these assholes have to prepare, the more likely this’ll turn from a nuisance into some kind of disaster.”
Chapter Three
There weren’t many things I’d gotten from my parents that I wanted to hold onto. But it was my mother who’d introduced me to Icelandic vodka—five years before it was technically legal for me to drink it—and you could pry my taste for that beverage from my cold dead hands. Clear and crisp with just a hint of bite as it went down, it was the perfect beverage for mulling over a difficult choice… or attempting to