Damian sat at his desk. His office was adorned with swords with engravings, armor sets that glowed lightly with the warm light of the room. His desk sat heavy, decorated with intricate woodwork.

  His eyes were on us the moment we walked in.

  We all had our heads down, waiting for whatever punishment he had in mind.

  He didn't look away as he picked up a stack of papers. The front read:

  Mission Report.

  Damian sighed and opened it. The ink was still fresh. Four names written at the top.

  Two of them crossed out.

  He read it once. Then again. The fire in the hearth cracked softly behind him. No one spoke.

  I stood still, eyes forward. Layla to his left. Dormin to his right. The blood had been washed away, but not well enough.

  Damian turned the page. His gaze hardened and softened as he went.

  "Charlotte." He read aloud. "Lightning affinity. Capable leader. Strongest Grade Four assassin we had." A pause that lasted one second too long. "Choked until dead."

  He did not look up.

  "Rellen. Warrior type. Natural leader." The paper shifted quietly under his fingers. "Head split by axe."

  He set the report down slowly and aligned it with the edge of the desk.

  "No sign of the bandits. No sign of Ragnar."

  Then he finally looked up. His face was casual. That was the worst part — not anger, not grief. Just that flat unreadable calm that told you nothing about what was coming next.

  "Explain." His eyes landed on Dormin and Layla. His gaze skipped over me entirely.

  I stepped forward. "It's—" My voice was drowned out by Dormin speaking louder.

  "We underestimated the opponent. With better planning we could have won." Layla stepped forward the moment he finished.

  "In my personal opinion, sir. We would have won — if not for Oren hesitating the moment we had Ragnar."

  Dormin gave her a cold look. She didn't take it back.

  Damian's eyes landed on me. My chest hardened. I looked back at him and I didn't try very hard to hide what was on my face. He smiled.

  "Go. Clean yourselves up and await further orders." He stood. He was more dressed than the last time I'd seen him. Identical daggers hung from either side. A longer sword sat across his back, its tint catching the low light with a maroon gleam.

  We all turned to leave.

  "Not you, Oren. You stay."

  I stopped. My heart beat harder and my head filled with whatever terrible thing Damian had in mind. The others glanced back at me briefly before the door shut behind them.

  He sat back down. "Sit. Tell me your side of the mission." I walked over to the chair across from his desk. My hands landed on the back of it. I wasn't comfortable here. I wasn't going to act like I was.

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  "What Layla said is true. I hesitated when I could have killed him. I didn't know what to do. I froze and others paid the price." I breathed finally. I held his gaze, trying to keep my feelings about this man locked behind my teeth.

  Damian reached under the desk. A bottle of liquor and two cups landed on the wood with a quiet thud. He poured without asking and slid one across to me.

  "Such is life. People die. Dwelling on it won't bring them back. All we can do is toast to them and keep moving."

  I took the cup and looked at it for a moment. I knew exactly what I would toast. My eyes went back up to Damian.

  "To Charlotte and Rellen…and to my father. May his murderer burn in hell." I spoke hard and held his gaze with unwavering conviction.

  Damian narrowed his eyes at me for a second. Then smiled, raising his glass.

  "To Lucas. May your debts be washed away."

  We both drank. My gaze never left him.

  "Down to business. You start training tomorrow. Magick adaptation, sword fighting, close combat. Your first solo mission will be in two weeks. Get as much in as possible." He set his glass down. I looked at him and finally swallowed mine. I coughed hard and gagged as the drink burned down my throat. He laughed.

  "Get out of here. Your new room is on the western side of the compound. Dormin will show you."

  I turned and walked slowly toward the door. I looked back as I opened it.

  "Even though I'll never forgive you. Thank you." I closed the door behind me.

  Dormin and Layla stood outside.

  "So? How'd it go?" Dormin asked. Layla ignored my presence entirely.

  "Well, I'm not dead. So there's that." I patted my chest. "He said you'd show me to my room?"

  Layla straightened immediately, her face tightening.

  "He can't mean that," Layla shouted.

  "Looks like you're the new member of our team. Come on."

  Layla stormed back into Damian's office. The dismissal came quickly and loud.

  "I don't want to hear it. Anything else from you and you'll be on front gate guard duty for the next year. You've already failed your mission — do I need to add insubordination as well?" Layla walked back out, head down, fists balled.

  ? ? ?

  A large dormitory sat on the western edge of the Society compound. Much of the surrounding ground was training yards, mostly empty now. The sun had dropped low enough that the magick lanterns had begun to light themselves — flames igniting one by one down the path until the entire compound was lit as far as I could see. The central tower rose against the last of the sunset, lanterns spiraling up its height until it blazed like midday.

  Dormin unlocked the door with a wave of his hand. Magick flickered and the door clicked open. Inside was cozy — walls lined with swords, daggers and spears, most of them still carrying the stains of previous missions. On a stand near the entrance sat a picture of Layla and Rellen kissing in front of a castle.

  Now I understood why she hated me. Rellen had been more than a teammate to her.

  Dormin unclipped his vest and hung it up. "Your room is down the hall, to the left. Last person in there was a new recruit who got himself killed for disobeying orders. So try not to do that."

  I walked down the hallway. It felt homey — cozy in a way I didn't quite understand. I'd never known this kind of comfort. Only a shack and the sound of sailors every morning. My room was empty except for a few dark stains on the floor and an empty bed, no doubt from the last guy. A shiver ran down my spine as I sat on the edge of it.

  I thought about Riverdale. Whether I'd ever go back. Whether I'd ever get the chance to sit with what had happened. A voice cut through the thought.

  "Don't get comfortable. You're not welcome here." Layla stood in the doorway, the scowl on her face leaving nothing to interpretation. "As far as I'm concerned, you murdered Rellen and Charlotte." She turned and walked away.

  Dormin appeared a moment later with a bundle of blankets. "This should hold you until you start earning coin. Get some rest." He pulled the door halfway and stepped out.

  I made the bed and laid down, staring at the ceiling. For the first time in three days I could breathe.

  The walls were thin enough that I could hear the conversation clearly.

  "Give him a chance. He's new. He was sent out to the wolves on his first day."

  "I don't care. He was thrust into our laps like a scared puppy and Rellen paid the price for it."

  "Rellen died before any of us could react. You need to accept that sooner rather than later. He's our teammate whether you like it or not. Grow up."

  Footsteps down the hall. A knock.

  Dormin opened the door. His expression said he needed this more than he was letting on.

  "You want to go get a few drinks?"

  "Sure," I said. "I could use it."

  We walked out. Layla appeared behind us, arms crossed, not quite meeting either of our eyes.

  "I…I could also use a drink.”