I set down my coffee, placed the donut on a napkin, and stared ahead, fighting the urge to jiggle my knees.
Aelindor gestured at the donuts. “Please. Help yourselves.”
The officers descended with controlled urgency, like hungry wolves respecting rank. Hands grabbed, retreated. Aelindor didn’t take one. He sipped his coffee with the unhurried grace of someone who probably hadn’t needed to eat in centuries.
“Let’s start with a status update,” Drakken said. “Debrief progress, then today’s agenda.”
Major Adrian flipped his tablet screen. The device hummed, powered by spell and Stormglass, same as everything in this world.
“The express train departed before dawn with scouts and a Spartan escort. Prince Nikolai will have our update by end of day. Deployment orders went out to five forts. We expect a full company of regular infantry to reinforce this position and the southern border within seventy-two hours.”
“Two-thirds of our Spartans will stay to shore up the eastern perimeter,” Drakken cut in. “The northern border won’t be a problem. New Columbia has never skirmished with the Covenant, and they hate the White Witch almost as much as we do. War with us isn’t in their interest.”
Colonel Karrik and his officers nodded. A low murmur circled the table. Demons had come out of the DarkVeil. Reinforcements weren’t a luxury but a matter of survival.
“Caspian or I would have stayed to reinforce you,” Drakken continued. “But the situation has changed. Intelligence received last night classifies Xander the Collector as a level-one threat to the Zodiac Covenant, equal priority with the White Witch.”
The room shifted. Chairs creaked.
This was about me. About my vision.
I was a nervous eater. I bit into the donut.
Sugar exploded on my tongue—sweet, rich, obscenely good. For one blissful second, the briefing, the staring, the dread—gone. Nothing but frosting and fried dough. Give me coffee and a donut and I’d sit through a briefing every day for the rest of my life.
“Many of you have wondered why we brought a first-year cadet on this deployment.” Drakken gestured at me. “Cadet Private Max hasn’t been with us long, but she’s proved herself an asset.”
I nearly choked.
Asset.From Drakken’s mouth.
What had changed? Last night—the tears, the panic, the raw mess I’d never meant to show. Had watching me fall apart cracked his armor?
“Attention, Cadet Max!”
Drakken’s bark caught me mid-bite. No choice—the donut was already in my mouth. Spitting it out would be worse. I crammed the rest in, shot to my feet, and snapped to attention, my cheeks packing like a squirrel’s.
The room watched. I couldn’t chew. Jaw locked in parade position, face frozen, frosting on my lip. Breathing required careful nasal management.
Asshole.He’d seen the pleasure on my face. One good thing in a morning full of dread, and he couldn’t stand it. Caspian was right—the man was allergic to other people’s happiness.
“Some of you may have heard Cadet Max came to us disguised as a boy,” Drakken continued, addressing the room while I stood at attention with a mouthful of pastry. “The deception was necessary for survival. The matter is resolved. During the train engagement, Cadet Max demonstrated advanced capability. She is a gifted alchemist.”
Murmurs rose around the table.
“Alchemists of high caliber are exceedingly rare,” Colonel Karrik said.
“Never met one,” someone else said.
“We won’t detail the full scope of her abilities,” Drakken said. “What I will say: they have strategic implications for our war against the Pallid Court. Any information pertaining to Cadet Max Morning is classified. We cannot afford the White Witch learning what we’ve discovered about Coldiron.”
Drakken’s cold eyes held mine.
“Show them, cadet.”
Chapter 6
Max