To: K_F_5/23.53.6

    Subject: Very well

    I’ll give you and Miss Aubuchon the rest of the weekend off, no questions asked. Be together, be pampered. Drink, be merry, relax and enjoy life. First, I have a new mission for you. Miss Lockwood is in a vulnerable state. You will remind her of the comfort she can find in your arms. Details attached.

    Might Equals Right!

    Sir Zhi Chen

    chapter sixteen

* * *

    “Let the fire burn. You will rise from the ashes, and you will be stronger.”

    —Myriad

    How am I supposed to prepare Dior for what’s to come? I’m not prepared.

    Who’s to be her Troikan Barrister? Who will risk his—or her—life for a human who might cave under pressure? No one has volunteered yet.

    Archer would step up to the plate in a heartbeat, but he’s not here. Who does that leave? Me? The only things I know about court proceedings, I witnessed today. Would I be a help or hindrance?

    Is Dior strong enough to persist as an audience views the worst deeds she’s ever committed? Is she ready for her deepest secrets to be revealed?

    Molten fire burns the center of my chest, and yet ice crystallizes in my veins. Is she ready to live a nightmare? Is she willing to forgive herself and start fresh? Or does the past hold her too tightly, determined to tug her back into the darkness?

    No, scratch that. Does she hold the past too tightly?

    The wise will rise, and the fools will duel.

    There isn’t an easy way to prep her. There’s only a hard way. But even that might not work!

    I’m too dazed to protest as Deacon steers me out of the courtroom. A Myriadian walks past us and snickers.

    My hands ball, but remain at my sides. Fools will duel.

    Insight from the Grid. And true! Breaking one of the Firstking’s rules will do me no good.

    We say goodbye to the guard tower and step into the Gate. When we exit, Levi is blocking the Veil of Wings, his expression stern.

    “We received intel,” he says in lieu of a greeting. “Javier Diez has an appointment with Mr. Flynn in roughly one hour. We’d like you to meet with him, Miss Lockwood.”

    Killian. My heart flutters. See him? Yes. Please. Deal with Javier Diez? No way.

    “I’m not ready.” Inadequacy delivers a one-two punch to my throat. What if I screw everything up? Alienate him? Get him killed? “I’d rather search for Victor.” I haven’t done nearly enough for my friend.

    “Search and rescue isn’t your job, Miss Lockwood.” Levi pins me with a hard stare. A look he’s got nailed. “Your job is whatever I assign you. Remember that.”

    I disappointed him. Zero! “What if this is another trap?”

    “It’s not.” He pivots on his heel and strides under the water.

    I follow him, entering Troika, and breathe deeply of the sweetened air, better able to center my thoughts...to focus on who and what I am. The brave and mighty Ten Lockwood. The Secondking said so. Twice!

    The only way to fail is to quit. I can help Javier and Dior. I can and I must.

    “How do you know?” I insist.

    “You’re just going to have to trust me.”

    “All right. I’ll go,” I say. “But what about Javier’s free will? He refused our aid.”

    “His three-greats grandfather petitioned for a second chance.”

    I spot Reed and Kayla standing under a tree. He’s holding a bundle of clothes, and she’s clutching three Whells and two weapons. Wait. Those are my weapons. My staff and my ring.

    “Why?” I ask.

    “We stopped by your apartment, picked up a few things.” Kayla shoves the weapons at Deacon and tugs at my robe. In unison, the boys turn, presenting me with their backs while also providing a shield from any nearby observers. “Hope you don’t mind.”

    “Hey!” I exclaim as the robe hits the floor. “The wardrobe change can wait.”

    “Would it have killed you to wear matching underwear?” she mutters, taking the bundle of clothes from Reed.

    “Maybe. If I ever did laundry and the machine fell on top of me,” I retort.

    Smiling, she helps me dress in one of my black catsuits. One of the scantier catsuits. I knock her hands out of the way to finish the chore myself, and as I work, she brushes and twines my hair into... I don’t even know what kind of style.

    Kayla straps a double-sided pouch to my back, and stores two Whells. Then she breaks the staff in two and hands me the pieces. “You’re up, Reed.”

    “Here.” He turns and slips a small round Whell on the Shell’s finger and Meredith’s ring on mine. “Just don’t go getting any ideas,” he mutters.

    “Dream on, buddy. Or don’t. Yeah, probably don’t dream about me. I’d have to smack you.”

    I slide the swords into the Whells.

    Kayla slaps her hands together in a job well done gesture. “You’re ready.”

    “So, what do you want me to do with Javier?” I ask Levi.

    “Succeed,” he commands. “Help him. Show him Troikan love. Prove our realm is home.” He taps his palm, types in the glowing keyboard. “You’ve been practicing hard, and your stamina is almost mediocre. You can do this.”

    “Wow. I sound ah-maz-ing,” I quip, my tone as dry as the desert. “Practically indestructible.”