The blanket felt smooth and warm against her shoulders. Jyra rolled sideways on the bed. Her head felt mildly clouded, but fortunately she wasn’t hungover. The air felt heavier than usual. Jyra leaned over the side of the mattress and glanced underneath it.
The box containing her small fortune was where she left it, tucked in the back corner, lonely but not forgotten. Jyra slid her legs from under the blanket and placed her feet on the floor. Her mind slowly assembled the events that preceded this last sleep cycle. The memory of the haphazard sparring with Graze gave way quickly to recollecting how the fight ended. Jyra stared at her hands, rotating them before her eyes, searching for some clue or sign regarding her inexplicable strength. The back of her right hand bore two scars, one created by accident, the other by intention (though not Jyra’s). Her fingers were a pleasant length, proportional to the rest of her hand. Her arms revealed nothing abnormal or concerning. It looked like her skin might be getting lighter; she had never gone so many days without exposure to the heated gaze of the sun.
The image of Graze flying away from her replayed again and again, dominating her thoughts. But even that yielded to the most chilling memory: the expressions she saw on her friend’s faces after she banished the spy from their midst. Serana seemed ready to attack her and Kip’s eyes were so narrow they looked like vertical slits under his hair. She tried to ignore the memory as she stood up and pulled on an outfit Serana gave to her several weeks ago. The stiff gray fabric gave Jyra as sense of mental strength, something she needed now more than ever. She just finished lacing up her boots when someone knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” Jyra called, trying to keep the nerves out of her voice.
“It’s me,” Serana answered.
Jyra opened the door. Serana didn’t look like she’d slept at all. Her hair was twisted, her eyeliner smudged, the effect exaggerated by the semicircles beneath her eyelids. She glanced right and left down the corridor and hurried inside.
“Pack your things,” she said. “I warned you someone might try to come after you to get back at me.”
“I thought it might be a good idea to relocate the moment you told me that,” Jyra said.
“Agreed,” Serana admitted. “This is partly proactive and partly defensive.”
Jyra tried in haste to repack her duffel. She reached under her bed and did her best to casually slip the heavy box among her clothes and belongings. Her fingers slipped on the duffel zipper when she saw Serana adjusting a gun in its holster on her hip.
“Defensive?” she asked.
“We have reports that Graze and perhaps other spies planted several explosives around the base.”
“Near here?”
Serana nodded.
“We know only of general locations, but it doesn’t seem like they targeted anything in particular. They just want to cause chaos. It’s as good an excuse as any to move you. We’ve initiated some countermeasures. We’ll see if they work.”
Jyra double-checked the nightstand and slung her duffel over her shoulder. It didn’t feel as heavy as before.
Serana led her down narrow, winding passages. Jyra had never walked in any that were harder to navigate. She already forgot how they entered them from the main corridor. Other passages split off to the right and left, diving away into mysterious subterranean regions. Only a single conduit overhead carried power for light fixtures that hung every eight paces or so.
“Where are we?” Jyra asked, as her duffel scraped the wall.
“The original tunnels,” Serana said. “Before the resistance grew too large, these passages served just fine. We’re taking them because no spy would target them if they even know they exist.”
The further they walked, the more Jyra realized the passages weren’t too narrow, but after the wide, meandering corridors these appeared far more diminutive.
“Once you’re moved and we get the bombs located and diffused, we’ll speak with my father again.”
Jyra sensed Serana might ask to explain what she did to Graze. When she thought of Jarrow, however, she remembered something she wanted to ask that might serve as a suitable diversion.
“Why did he call you Twenty-Six?”
Serana paused in the dim passage for a moment before changing course, taking a tunnel on the left.
“It’s the number of our favorite stunt skiff pilot. Her name was Mora Akrino,” Serana said, her voice surrendering to a tone of reverence Jyra hadn’t heard before. “She inspired me and thousands of girls like me to take up stunt flying. She wasn’t the first woman to do it, but she was certainly the first who got everyone’s attention.”
“How?”
Serana stopped again below a light fixture. Even in the semidarkness, Jyra watched as her friend’s eyes grew round with enthusiasm.
“She won every competition she entered,” Serana explained. “Even in the middle of a storm or when other pilots united to block her, she always executed maneuvers to get the points. Sometimes, an evasion tactic coupled with a standard trick won her extra points. But for her, no trick was standard.
“Stunt pilots are trained to take time between maneuvers to prepare for the next trick. Mora used to say the flight between tricks was just as important as the maneuvers themselves. She looked at the totality of her performance. That mindset allowed her to succeed even as other pilots tried to throw her off with blockades.”
“Those disruptions didn’t earn the other pilots any points, right?”
“Correct. A lot of pilots decided to sacrifice their performance just to see if they could cost Mora points. By default, she created an entire separate goal in the sport. No pilot had ever been successful enough to warrant such a backlash.
“Then she crashed,” Serana said bluntly, before turning on her heel to proceed down the passage.
Jyra had been wondering what happened to Mora since Serana began recounting her story. She wasn’t prepared for the succinct conclusion.
“That was it?” Jyra asked.
“An engine blew and she swerved into a skiff that was trying to block her and both ships exploded on impact. The cause of the initial engine failure hasn’t been determined though many suspect someone sabotaged it. It happened eleven years ago and stunt fans can’t stop talking about the sport’s greatest tragedy.”
Serana ceased talking as they trudged onward. Jyra felt the cold stagnant air against her arms as she considered the story about Mora.
She died at the height of her career while living her passion, Jyra thought. She felt envious on behalf of her family, until she considered no matter the circumstances of Mora’s death, it was just as final and just as painful for those she left behind. Not only did her family bear the weight of her loss, but also her fans, like Serana, who drew inspiration from her skill in the air.
The passage curved again and light gleamed through a narrow opening ahead. The ease of toting her duffel had worn off. Jyra stooped as she shuffled onward. Just before she stepped sideways into the light, Serana paused yet again.
“I think about Mora’s death more than the death of my own mother,” she said. “Why?”
Jyra gave a small shrug.
“You might as well question death itself,” Jyra said gently. “I’ve spent hours rehashing the loss of my brother and parents. None of it yielded anything constructive. Even if it did, I’d rather just have my family back. That wish never dies.”
Serana nodded after a moment and stepped out of the narrow passage. Jyra only managed a glimpse of the wide hallway around her, because Serana had already opened a door on the opposite wall.
Jyra hurried inside. The room was smaller, but certainly better furnished than the last one she occupied. The bed, bedside table, desk, and dresser were all constructed of cherry wood, stained dark to nearly match the earthen walls. Two light fixtures gleamed on the ceiling. Jyra set her duffel on the bed and headed back to the door where Serana waited.
“Where’s the nearest reported bomb from here?” she asked.
“A maintenance locker two levels below. I’ll be back soon.”
“I’m coming with you,” she said.
“You’re too important and this is too dangerous,” Serana said, stopping at the door.
“Too dangerous?” Jyra said. “After all I’ve done, all we’ve done together, this is beyond me?”
“You’re stepping into a new role,” Serana explained. “I’m trying to minimize risk and allowing you in range of explosives is reckless. It’s why I moved you here.”
“What does it say about me if I can’t face something like this?” Jyra said.
Serana inhaled, her fierce eyes flaring against her smudged eyeliner.
“Please wait here,” she said. “There have been too many times in my life where disaster supplants success at the last possible moment. I’ve already admitted bringing you on the Liberation mission was a mistake.”
“I’m coming with you,” Jyra repeated. “I will not have a part in the disaster you fear. I’m going to be all right.”
Serana dropped her gaze and shook her head.
“My mom told me something similar before each of her competitions,” she said. Jyra swallowed hard and clutched her mother’s locket against her chest.
“This is different,” Jyra said. “I’ll be fine.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I’m not,” Jyra said, sensing her friend acquiescing. “Just stating my intention. Let’s go.”
Ten minutes later, they reached the wide corridor leading to the maintenance locker. An emergency response team had assembled nearby. Their black uniforms resembled a standard flight suit but the fabric was heavier. Helmets and masks hid all but the eyes of the responders staring back at the women. The leader stepped forward to give a brief bow.
“What have we got?” Serana asked, approaching the locker.
“Initial scans are almost complete,” the leader reported. Her face hardly moved beneath her mask when she spoke.
Serana leaned to the right to better survey the two responders who stood before the locker, each operating a small handheld device.
“That’s all so far?” Serana said, her tone neutral. “You were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago. Why isn’t that locker opened yet?”
The team leader didn’t blink nor did her eyes leave Serana’s face.
“We encountered several thick crowds on our way,” the leader explained. “Slowed us down.”
Serana checked the corridor, ensuring it was empty except for her, Jyra, and the team.
“Interesting, those crowds seem to have disappeared,” Serana said. “Besides, seconds in your work can make a tremendous difference. You can’t afford to let anything waylay the effort. You should have learned that your first day.”
Jyra came to Serana’s side as the leader bowed again and retreated back to her team. The scanners had finished their work on the door.
“Something isn’t right,” Jyra whispered.
“I know,” Serana replied.
The response team shifted, moving apart to opposite sides of the locker. The leader twisted the latch and the door slid back into the wall. The team moved toward the opening, but the leader swept through it with no hesitation. The rest of the responders gave muffled cries of desperation as they all tried to force their way through the narrow door.
Serana and Jyra raced to the locker as well. One of the responders had fallen into the room and into a scuffle with the leader. Everyone began shouting at once. As one responder shifted, Jyra caught a glimpse inside the locker. The responder on the floor barely managing to hold the leader back from an apparatus on the wall.
Jyra noticed several flashing lights next to a red lever on the device, but she lost her footing in the jostling crowd. Serana grabbed two responders and tugged backward. The trio crashed onto the packed floor of the corridor. Jyra pulled the last responder in her way backward, using the momentum to launch herself at the locker. She sailed inside and crushed the leader against the apparatus. Both women landed in a heap on the responder who had restrained the leader in the first place.
Jyra couldn’t even establish her bearings before an arm locked around her throat. She choked as the leader rolled her aside.
“Stop!” Serana shouted.
Jyra obeyed and turned her head just enough to see her friend standing three paces from the doorway, gun aimed directly at the leader, who froze in an awkward crouch facing the wall. She had been pulling herself up toward the apparatus. Serana had stopped her two feet shy of her goal.
“Go ahead and fire,” the leader said, voice laden with resignation. “That’s what you do with spies. Kill them on the spot. One side of the story is all you need.”
Serana nodded at Jyra who slid out of the way. The responder on the floor retreated slowly, remaining on the ground under the line of fire.
Serana kept a steady grip on her gun as she motioned to Jyra.
“Put her on the ground.”
Jyra wrenched the leader backward off the wall. Her helmet cracked against the dirt and she blinked dust out of her eyes.
Serana stepped forward, following her gun, which she kept on the enemy.
“You were about to kill yourself along with the rest of us,” Serana said. “If I pull the trigger it shouldn’t make any difference to you. What’s your name?”
It was hard to read the leader’s expression behind her mask.
“Meriax,” she said.
“Remove your helmet and mask,” Serana commanded. “They won’t help you now. The rest of you–” she addressed the other members of the response team –“line up on the far wall and await further instruction.”
Meriax tugged her mask off letting it rest on her neck and pushed her helmet back. The edges of her mask had dug into her cheeks; the strap hadn’t been adjusted correctly. Her pale hair and skin set off her large blue eyes, which stared up at her captors. Her lips quivered, but her long, gloved fingers were curled into rigid fists.
“Did you install this device?” Serana asked. Meriax shook her head.
“Who did?”
“Graze,” Meriax said. “Several days ago.”
“Specifics please,” Serana said.
“Three days ago,” Meriax clarified.
“Why did you wait?” Serana said. “In the middle of a highly sophisticated mission, which turned into a complete mess anyway, these bombs could have brought the resistance to its knees by further compromising the reconnaissance in the field.”
“We had problems of our own,” Meriax said, her resigned tone returning. “We intended to strike sooner, but the detonators malfunctioned. In any case, I think we did enough to damage to your recon mission.”
“How long have you been spying here?” Serana said.
“Several–three months,” Meriax replied.
“Got trapped in the network like the rest?”
Meriax turned and slowly sat up against the doorframe, her eyes growing, if possible, even wider.
“What do you mean?”
“No one in the resistance is certain how Graze’s death came about,” Serana said, with a trace glance at Jyra who privately agreed with the claim.
“The resistance does not make a point of assassinating the spies in our midst,” Serana continued. “We know there are plenty of you in this base at this very moment and that is the network to which I refer. How could spies with similar goals avoid each other’s company? But the reason we don’t hunt you down is simple. Although escaping from this base is very difficult, it can be done. And it would only take one spy to get back to the hospitals to reveal our location. Therefore, we discourage your attempts to flee by allowing your network to exist. An old saying advises to keep friend’s close and enemies closer.
“Sometimes we even let you place explosives around our base, but none of you have learned that when you try to use detonators they have to be hardwired. We merely pump some of the shield mist into the air systems and it causes remote detonators to fail. Now that you know this, of course, you’ll be thrown into one of the premier holding cells, which not even the spies know about so you won’t be passing along the intelligence I’ve just given you.”
“Someone as paranoid as you makes me wonder why you told me all that in the first place,” Meriax said.
Serena jammed the gun into its holster and lowered herself into a crouch. She seized Meriax by the collar with both hands and pulled her so close, Serana’s fists touched Meriax’s cheeks.
“I told you so that you can abandon the idea that we kill for fun or without cause. The hospital and the resistance both kill but we are more judicious in our approach. Hopefully it gives you something to think about in your cell. That’s about all you can do in there.”
Serana released Meriax, drew her gun, clicked off the safety, and fired a single shot.
The sound of footsteps falling together in time filled the echo of the shot, which had made everyone except Serana jump. A platoon, similarly dressed to the response team, but four times their number, swarmed the scene.
“Take each member of the e-team to processing to debrief their march to this location,” Serana said. “Confirm how many delays they encountered,” she added, rolling her eyes at Meriax.
Two members of the summoned regiment each took an e-team member away down the passage.
“Four of you please escort Meriax to one of the holding cells. Take care that you speak to no one and especially that she speaks to no one on the way.”
The squad leader pulled Meriax off the floor. He unclipped the helmet from under Meriax’s chin and lifted the mask over her head. The strap snagged her ponytail and released it. Her freed hair swung forward around her ears and tumbled past her shoulders. She stared straight ahead, unmoving.
“Other teams report all known explosives have been recovered,” the squad leader said with a stiff nod at Serana as he shoved the prisoner to the side.
Serana gave a cursory glance at the rest of Meriax’s outfit before issuing another order.
“Based on her willingness to take her own life, see that she is fitted with bonded garments. Without loose ends, nothing that can be tied.”
Jyra swallowed hard and glared out of the corner of her eye at her friend. Had this entire threat been orchestrated? The malfunctioning detonators, the regiment hiding just out of sight ready to march at the sound of a gunshot, even (she had to resist putting a disbelieving hand to her head) allowing live explosives to be distributed around the base? Why had Serana tried to keep her away from this mission if it had already been engineered in their favor?
Maybe to hide this side of her from me, Jyra thought. Serana had been handling the situation just fine, but the moment she got in Meriax’s face, something changed. All Jyra could discern at this point was her friend crossed a line, but she wasn’t sure what that line was.
The squadron forced Meriax away. Jyra watched her shuffling footsteps, but returned her attention to the locker as Serana gave her next order.
“The rest of you dismount the explosive from the locker and transport it to the arms department for evaluation. That will be all.”
Without another word, she set off back the way she had come. Jyra trotted after her. They had only climbed the first couple steps of a staircase when Jyra felt the question run through her lips.
“What was that all about?”
Serana paused mid-step and turned around, keeping a firm grip on the railing.
“I explained it for your benefit, not just hers,” she said.
“So you knew she was there the entire time, waiting to blow the bomb?” Jyra asked.
“Not exactly,” Serana said, continuing up the stairs. “We thought a spy might be operating within a deployed e-team. We didn’t have time to check all of them before they marched. But you knew something wasn’t right while we watched the team. I only acted when Meriax jumped into the locker.”
Jyra pondered the statement as they turned on a landing and ascended another flight of rough wooden stairs. Everything Serana said was true, but Jyra realized she wasn’t asking the right questions.
“You did actually allow spies to place those bombs around the base?” Jyra said. “That seems reckless. Not to mention those spies thwarted the recon mission.”
“I did not invite them to plant explosives, they did that themselves. As for the mission, I don’t want to hear another word about it!” Serana said, a cutting edge filling her voice. The tone only made Jyra angrier.
“And what were you doing to the prisoner?” Jyra said, noticing that she was shouting. “Taunting her about suicide and grabbing her by the collar, what were you trying to prove?”
Serana stopped on the stairs again, but this time she spun on the spot and leaned toward Jyra’s face, her intimidating stare full of menace.
“What are you trying to prove?” she demanded. Jyra automatically retreated to the next step below her. Out of nowhere, she remembered the time she hid under her bed when her father was shouting at her brother. His voice still found her, penetrating her bedroom door and swirling beneath the mattress. Now, it broke over her once more, stealing away her words.
“You haven’t been yourself,” she heard herself say gently.
Serana’s shoulders relaxed and she sank in place. Jyra was momentarily distracted, wondering if she had been talking to herself or her friend.
“I’m sorry,” Serana said, shaking her head. “You’re right. I don’t know why I acted the way I did with her. I just…lost control.”
“We both have,” Jyra said, as she recalled Graze tumbling off the edge of the hangar platform yet again. “I didn’t mean to blame you. Sorry.”
“I used to think I had everything figured out,” Serana said. “I knew what I wanted, where I wanted to go . I joined the resistance to help my father after mom died and I didn’t think I’d last here. I guess that will be true tomorrow. The fight against the hospital doesn’t seem nearly as daunting as keeping this operation together.”
“The fight only continues if the resistance does, too,” Jyra said, gesturing for the two of them to resume climbing.
Serana nodded and pulled herself upright, taking the stairs again.
“If the fight I’m worried about within the resistance begins, it will be the end of this entire movement,” she said.
Neither woman spoke again until they reached Jyra’s new room. Serana opened the door. Jyra felt tired as soon as she saw her bed.
“Thank you for your part down there,” she said. “It was foolish of me to even think of requesting that you stay behind.”
“Easier to say once the danger has passed,” Jyra said.
“That danger,” Serana said, her eyes widening. “We’ll discuss the real problems with my father later today. You look like you need some rest.”
Jyra nodded and sat on her new mattress next to her duffel.
“See you soon,” Serana said as she departed. The door closed along with Jyra’s eyes.
*
Three hours later, the two women stepped through the door into Jarrow’s quarters. Nothing had changed. The same rickety chairs were near the edge of the bed, constant observers of the man reclined before them.
Jarrow sat up from his pillows, a smile visible beneath the eyepatch and scars. He seemed more enthusiastic than he had been at their last meeting.
“Well done with the spies,” he said, his voice once again surprising Jyra, despite the fact she was sober.
Serana made a point to clutch her father’s hand in greeting before she took her seat. She had barely leaned into the backrest before Jarrow began speaking.
“I’ve found a scout location for you, Twenty-Six. North end of the city near a major supply artery. You leave tomorrow.”
Jyra could tell the way Serana’s eyes bulged for a second that no matter where she thought she was headed, the finality of the order wasn’t easy to accept.
“That is your decision,” she said and Jyra couldn’t tell if it was a statement or question. Jarrow didn’t seem at all put off by his daughter and continued on breezily.
“It is. I think it will be an excellent fit. I also wanted to congratulate both of you in person for your effort in stopping Graze from escaping.”
Jyra remembered Serana telling her after the fight with the spy that she needed to explain to Jarrow exactly what happened. It didn’t seem any easier to do now than it had been before. He looked at her with his eye and Jyra knew it was coming.
“I heard the battle ended in quite an extraordinary fashion,” Jarrow said with his imploring stare.
“I don’t know what to say except that some of the muscle stim the hospital gave me is still in my system,” Jyra said, keeping her hands anchored on her knees. “I didn’t intend to kill him or–” she had to pause and push the memory away of Graze’s wrist shattering in her grip–“hurt him like I did. The strength isn’t always present. I didn’t feel it today during the struggle at the maintenance locker.”
Jarrow nodded and sat back on his pillows, raising his chin as he thought about what he just heard.
“Very well,” he said. “And that reminds me that I need to thank you both for also unmasking another spy.”
He tried to smile, but a coughing fit ensued instead. Serana stood up and gently struck Jarrow between his shoulder blades as he heaved back and forth.
“Don’t ever get shot down,” he said, once the fit subsided. “Not good for the health.”
Jyra gave what she hoped was a sympathetic smile. Serana helped her father lay back before she returned to her chair.
“I wasn’t able to tell you when we last met that I figured I might not be at the base after the latest failed mission,” Serana said in a rush. “Anticipating that, I thought I should present someone to fill my post.”
Now it was Jyra’s turn to face the inevitable. She felt certain her smile had changed to the look Serana had when Jarrow announced her scout position. Serana had told her right after the first meeting with her father that she thought Jyra should replace her. Jyra hadn’t given the matter much thought, though. For one thing, when she received the news, both she and Serana were sprinting toward the hangar to stop Graze. Not only that, Jyra was still fighting the lull Kip’s whiskey had brought upon her. Before they headed to the maintenance locker, Serana mentioned Jyra would be stepping into a new role.
She wanted to protest. She wanted to leave the room. Why didn’t she discuss this with Serana earlier? Jyra looked up and saw Jarrow still staring at his daughter.
“Who did you have in mind?” he asked.
Not a good sign, Jyra thought. Overlooking me when I’m sitting right here. Serana simply raised an upturned hand, gesturing at Jyra. Jarrow gazed at her and Jyra sat up a little straighter.
“Really,” Jarrow said, and for the second time, it was impossible for Jyra to tell if it was a statement or a question. However, Serana’s pleading tone made it clear her father was going to need some convincing.
“Jyra is smart, strong, and has proven herself capable under stress, even in times of peril,” Serana said. “Plus, she doesn’t have our name.”
“Why does that matter?” Jarrow asked. Jyra knew he was referring to his daughter’s last comment, but she thought it could apply to Serana’s entire appeal. Yes she had been successful, but Jyra wasn’t sure how escaping the hospital exhibited her skills as a leader.
“Many of the resistance members are old friends of mine, friends of ours,” Jarrow said. “The Makrinn name is still respected.”
“Not by the people who matter,” Serana said. “You weren’t at the meeting I had with the donors and their families. No one passed up any opportunity to blame you or I for the flawed operation of the resistance. Your old friends will be guilty by association in their eyes. Jyra is familiar enough with the base but can still be considered an outsider.”
“But you rescued me,” Jyra said, hoping to find a problem, any problem, that might derail her promotion. “That doesn’t look good.”
“That fact only really got through to one other person,” Serana said. “And it was because he tended you when you first got here.”
“And Drenal won’t tell anyone about it,” Jarrow said. “Though I wish he could. I miss that man.”
Jyra was about to ask how Jarrow knew Drenal had been her doctor then she remembered they had discussed it last time she was in this room.
No more whiskey, she thought. Things are complicated enough.
“Is this a position you want?” Jarrow asked.
Even with one eye, his gaze had twice the intensity of his daughter’s, though Jyra could feel Serana’s eyes on her as well.
“I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me nervous and that I feel prepared and ready,” Jyra said carefully. “Could I maybe fill the position temporarily for a week or two to make sure I’m a good fit?”
She still sensed the stares after she finished speaking. The bed creaked as Jarrow sat up.
“I think that sounds fine, but is it something you want?” he said and Jyra realized she had not in fact answered his question at all. She felt as though Serana’s eyes were going to shoot flames at any second.
“I do,” she said, sounding much more confident than she felt.
“Then that’s settled,” Jarrow said. “I’ll arrange for you to meet with some of the officials to go over basic protocol. Twenty-Six can show you some of the basics as well though apparently she should keep her distance for your sake. Could you give us a moment?” he added abruptly to his daughter.
Serana looked throughly perplexed as she stood and left the room without a backward glance.
Jyra faced Jarrow who pushed himself into a fully seated position. He took several deep breaths before continuing.
“I get the sense that she pushed you into this, perhaps against your will,” Jarrow said. Jyra automatically shook her head.
“I don’t feel that way about it,” she said. “The name argument aside, I don’t know what she thinks I can do better than her.”
“We’ll see during the trial period,” Jarrow said. “But I did want to extend an offer. Serana receives a modest financial sum for her service here, but I’ve kept it lower since she’s my daughter and most expenses are taken care of anyway. However, I’ll give you a more satisfactory rate and an advance to cover the trial period. Shall we say one week?”
“That’s more than I ever expected,” Jyra heard herself say. “And now I wonder what it is you see in me?”
“Determination,” Jarrow said without hesitation. He leaned over to his beside table and rummaged in the drawer. He pulled out a bound stack of currency and offered it to Jyra.
“Consider yourself hired,” Jarrow said as Jyra accepted the money.
“Thank you,” she said, standing and shaking his hand.
“Would you send my daughter in here as you leave?” Jarrow asked. “You can wait for her outside. She won’t be long.”
Jyra nodded and headed for the door.
“Thank you again,” she said and Jarrow inclined his head briefly.
Serana was standing on the other side of the door and Jyra gestured for her to pass. She did and Jyra turned to hide the money from view. She wished she’d stuffed it into her pocket sooner. The door shut once she was in the hallway. Only several minutes passed before Serana returned to the hallway, her face inscrutable.
“Everything okay?” Jyra asked cautiously.
“Yeah,” Serana said and she sounded genuine. “I think so. Ready to start learning about your official new job?”
“I’ve never had one of those,” Jyra admitted. Serana only smiled.
“An outsider for sure.”