“They’re all … Where you are now?”
He hesitated, then said, “In Lunathion. Might as well tell you—you could have turned on the news and figured out where they are.”
She shook her head, flame flowing. “You say too much.”
“And you too little. Any other intel about the shipment on the Spine?”
“No. I thought you called me here to tell me something.”
“No. I … I guess my mind reached for yours.”
She watched him. And even though he couldn’t see her face, and she couldn’t see his, he’d never felt so naked. She said quietly, “Something’s riled you.”
How could she tell? “My day was … difficult.”
She sighed. Tendrils of fire rippled around her. “Mine too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
The word was teasing, a reminder of their earlier conversation. She did have a sense of humor, then.
Day said, “I work with people who are … Well, they make Mordoc seem like one of those sweet little otters in your city. There are days when it wears on me more than others. Today was one of them.”
“Do you at least have friends to lean on?” he asked.
“No. I’ve never had a true friend in my life.”
He winced. “That’s … really sad.”
She snorted. “It is, isn’t it?”
“I don’t think I’d have made it this far without my friends. Or my sister.”
“For those of us with neither friends nor family, we find ways to make do.”
“No family, eh? A true lone wolf.” He added, “My father’s a piece of shit, so … a lot of the time I wish I were like you.”
“I have a family. A very influential one.” She propped her head on a burning fist. “They’re pieces of shit, too.”
“Yeah? Your dad ever burn you for speaking out of turn?”
“No. But he did flog me for sneezing during prayers.”
She wasn’t an Asteri, then. Asteri had no family. No children. No parents. They just were.
He blinked. “All right. We’re even.”
She laughed quietly, a low, soft sound that ran delicate fingers over his skin. “A truly tragic thing to have in common.”
“It really is.” He smiled, even if she couldn’t see it.
She said, “Since you are in a position of power, I’m assuming your father must be as well.”
“Why can’t I be self-made?”
“Call it intuition.”
He shrugged. “All right. What about it?”
“Does he know of your rebel sympathies?”
“I think my work has gone beyond sympathies now, but … no. He’d kill me if he knew.”
“Yet you risk your life.”
“What’s the question, Day?”
Her mouth quirked to the side. Or what he could see of it did. “You could use your power and rank to undermine people like your father, you know. Be a secret agent for the rebellion in that sense, rather than doing this message-carrying.”
She didn’t know who he was, right? Ruhn shifted in his chair. “Honestly? I’m shit at those deception games. My father is the master of them. This is far more my speed.”
“And yet your father is allowed to stay in power?”
“Yeah. Aren’t all of these assholes allowed to stay in power? Who’s going to stop them?”
“Us. People like us. One day.”
Ruhn snorted. “That’s some idealistic shit right there. You know that if this rebellion is triumphant, we’ll likely have a war for dominance between all the Houses, don’t you?”
“Not if we play the game well.” Her tone was completely serious.
“Why tell me any of this? I thought you were all … no-personal-stuff.”
“Let’s chalk it up to a difficult day.”
“All right,” he repeated. He leaned back in his chair once more, letting himself fall quiet. To his surprise, Day did the same. They sat in silence for long minutes before she said, “You’re the first person I’ve spoken to normally in … a very long time.”
“How long?”
“So long that I think I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be myself. I think I’ve lost my true self entirely. To destroy monsters, we become monsters. Isn’t that what they say?”
“Next time, I’ll bring us some psychic beers and a TV. We’ll get you normal again.”