I straighten my clothes, drink my vial of manna and tap my healing comm.

    “Wait. I have something for you.” Killian won’t meet my gaze as he digs into the pocket of his jeans.

    I laugh. “If you tell me the gift is your penis—”

    “Please. I’ll save that very big gift for another day.” He dangles a necklace directly in front of my face. In the center hangs the symbol for pi.

    My hand flutters over my mouth, my eyes widening, my heart swelling. Pi is the ratio of a circle’s circumference to its diameter. A circle never ends.

    Zero! For the second time today, tears well in my eyes. This is supposed to be a symbol of our relationship, isn’t it?

    “I made it,” he admits, practically growling now. “I make things. Usually weapons. Which is unimportant right now.” Scowling, he presses my thumb in the middle of the symbol, and a soft vibration travels up my arm. A second later, his comm buzzes.

    “See?” he says. “If you apply pressure, I’ll be summoned through an electrical pulse in my data pad. I’ll be able to track you—help you—wherever you are.”

    I’m not just trembling as I accept; I’m melting all over again. I place the leather cord around my neck and hide the symbol under my shirt. “The fact that you made it makes me love it a thousand times more.” As his features soften, I add, “I—I want you to have this.”

    I step out of my Shell, and motion for him to step out of his. As soon as he complies, I slip off the pistol ring and slide it onto his finger. His finger is much bigger than mine, of course, and the band only fits his pinkie.

    We return to our Shells. “It belonged to Meredith, my grandmother,” I tell him. “It’s a piece of her...a piece of me. Of who and what I am.”

    He looks at the ring, then at me, then the ring again. His eyes close for a moment, and his expression...he begins to glow, as if he’s been lit from the inside out.

    “Thank you, lass. I will cherish the ring always.” He gently tugs a lock of my hair. “And I hope you’ll use the necklace if ever your life is in danger. Promise me you will.”

    “If ever I’m in the Land of the Harvest and my life is in danger...and summoning you won’t endanger you...I promise I’ll use it.” He can’t pass through the Veil of Wings to reach me in Troika, but I suspect he would try if he thought I was in trouble—try until he died.

    chapter twenty-one

* * *

    “There is power in agreement.”

    —Troika

    I’m still reeling over Killian’s gift—and his promise—when I step through the Veil of Wings.

    Levi is waiting for me, looking dapper in his customary pin-striped suit. No one else is around, and my anger returns full force.

    I plant my fists on my hips and glare up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me about my mother?”

    His lips compress, forming a thin line. “I planned to tell you after I’d found a Barrister for her case.”

    “Good news. You’ve found one. I’ll be her Barrister.”

    His eyelids narrow to slits. “That is the very reason I planned to find a Barrister before speaking with you. I knew you’d volunteer.”

    “I’ll fight harder than anyone else. I’ll—”

    “No, Miss Lockwood. You won’t.” He leans down, getting in my face. “This is part of your problem. You think you’ll fight harder than anyone else, because you love her. The truth is, we all fight our hardest for all Troikans and all possible Troikans, because we love them all. We need you fighting Penumbra, not court cases that could get you killed.”

    Pop. The air deflates from my anger, and I push out a breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

    A confused pause. Then he nods and straightens, smoothing his hands over his lapels. “I am. But I didn’t expect to get through to you so quickly.”

    “Maybe Killian is a good influence on me?” I ask cheekily.

    He tweaks my nose, but says nothing more.

    “Is it time for my debriefing?”

    “Only with me.” With a tilt of his chin, he urges me forward. “Tell me everything.”

    I relay everything I said to Brigitte and share what Killian revealed: the reason for Victor’s abduction, and the results.

    “The spy is good,” he says on a sigh. “There’s been no suspicious behavior among your team.”

    “Maybe we’re looking in the wrong place. What if the spy is higher up? Someone with full clearance, who can access our feed and study our cases with zero redactions.”

    He frowns. “One of our Generals?”

    I despise the thought, but why not?

    We enter and exit a Gate. In the Capital of New, the streets are congested with citizens headed to training or work or home after a night shift. Everyone who spots us stops to bow. Even Elizabeth and Raanan.

    Nico is with the redheaded twins who were friends with Archer, and Hoshi and Rebel are leaving a manna restaurant. Levi nods at everyone, and I mimic him, doing my best to appear oh so chill, even though I want to shout, We’re equals! Stop bowing.

    I also want to shout, Vote for Archer! No, no, vote for Meredith! No, wait. Vote for Archer! The Resurrection approaches, and Troika could really use a third Conduit.

    “The Conduit who died this year,” I say. “What was her—his?—name?”

    “His. Orion Giovante. A good man. Strong. Brutally honest. A little hotheaded. A warrior who preferred to lead his army on the ground rather than from behind the scenes. He refused to leave wounded soldiers in battle and died trying to save them.”