“Along with the release of our soldier, she will publicly announce her allegiance to the Order. The resources in the region will be ours, effectively immediately.”
“And what are you giving her?” I ask.
“Her life,” Theia replies. “In addition, I am keeping her in place as the region leader, under my new government.”
“Whoa, for real?”
Theia chuckles. “Yes, ‘for real.’ Wolfshield has accepted these terms.”
“So, she keeps her region, her people, and a modicum of power. Not to mention her army and her technology.” I try to not let the jealousy seep into my voice. “She must’ve snatched an important person. Wish I’d thought of that.”
Taylor’s eyes widen, as if I’ve said something offensive. Whoever this person is, she’s clearly worth a lot more than me, and, well, I may be a little petty. Theia clears her throat on the other line. “Do you have an issue with my strategy, Miss Piccolo?”
“I don’t think it would matter very much if I did. I’m more thinking that if she wakes up one day and decides she doesn’t like your government, she has a big head start in taking it back.”
“If she appears even remotely aggressive, I turn the armies of four other regions against her and I will level her region to the ground,” Theia explains in a clipped tone. “Patricia has many obnoxious, sanctimonious qualities and one of them is her precious code of honor. In any event, I do not expect a betrayal.”
“That’s exactly when you should expect one.”
“Ah, well the Piccolo heir would certainly know her way around a backstabbing.” Each syllable of her sentence is deliberate, quick, like nips of teeth on skin.
Taylor, correctly reading the room for once, interjects. Or she’s so in her head she has no idea what’s been said. Either are likely. “What if—what if she isn’t okay? Or what if Wolfshield refuses to release her?”
“I trust you will figure out a solution and I will support your decision.”
Wheels spin behind Taylor’s eyes as she contemplates the reckless ways she could save Hunter. “What is our transport?”
“Car. It is one full day’s drive. In light of Miss Piccolo’s injury, I’ve arranged for a driver to bring you directly to an Order compound about two-thirds of the way there. Eos, you will drive the second leg of the trip.”
“No element of surprise,” I say. “What an anticlimactic way to take the last region.”
“That is not the last region,” Taylor replies in a faraway voice.
“Correct.” Theia’s voice snaps Taylor’s attention back from wherever she’d gone. “Miss Piccolo, in regard to your father, I have made efforts to come to an accord with him.”
This time, I can’t deny the hopefulness in my tone. “You spoke to him?”
“Several times, via encrypted holo-calls. His Force and his Lightbringers continue to wreak havoc upon New York City, though most of the rest of the region is under our control.”
“Is he okay? Did he…look okay?”
“He seemed…tired,” she admits. “He asked about you, and I assured him you were well and in good hands. This was prior to your being shot, to be fair.”
“Probably best he doesn’t know. He’s not exactly a rational guy, especially where I’m concerned.”
“I agree. Our talks have stalled because he insists on seeing you in person, and, obviously, you are currently indisposed. Eos, I will be in contact with you again once you’ve reached Wolfshield safely. Godspeed on your convalescence, Miss Piccolo.”
“Good day, ma’am.” Taylor closes the face of her watch and gets up from the metal chair, releasing the elastic band in her hair to shake out her blond locks. Anxiously, she runs her fingers through her hair. “I am going to step outside for a bit.”
“Okay.”
But it’s not okay.
After a drawn-outdischarge where I have to practically pry Georgina away from Taylor, we’re shoveled into a van with a few bags of supplies. Our driver is an Order member named Ekaterina, a woman with whom Taylor is peripherally familiar. They make small talk about the war and reconnaissance they did together last time Taylor was in the area. I stare out the window and watch Montana disappear behind us. No crashing through checkpoints this time. All that’s left is smooth sailing into the wolf’s den.
Taylor suggests I sleep, but anxiety keeps me dreadfully awake. The world moves around us, lights and noise shoot by like meteors. Each mile, each marker, each changing picture outside my window brings us closer to the end of our journey together. Clenching my jaw, I force myself to be present. We are here and we are together. The woman who barely looked me in the eyes during a chilly helicopter ride currently slumbers on my shoulder.
Many hours of overthinking later, my companion shifts beside me and begrudgingly returns to consciousness. Anticipating coldness as she detaches herself from me, I’msurprised when she further buries her face into my shoulder with a sleepy whimper.