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Meanwhile, my mother intercepts me on the way to Advanced Interrogation Techniques, my first class of the week.
She almost never speaks to me outside the library so I know at once this is no simple social call.
“Adrik says the mine looks good,” she says. “He’s seen military Hummers going in and out of the tunnels. The mine’s supposed to be decommissioned. But it’s definitely in use.”
“Kazakh military?” I say. “Or Malina?”
“He thinks both,” my mother says, eyes glinting. “I’m going there myself to check it out.”
“I’ll come with you,” I say at once.
“No—I’m leaving this afternoon. You stay here and keep an eye on Hedeon—if he blows this whole thing up, then Luther will fuck us over out of spite. We can’t have anyone raising an alarm while we’re still making arrangements.”
I stare at her hard.
“Don’t even think of doing it without me,” I say.
She holds my eyes, unblinking.
“I would never do that,” she says. “He’syourfather andmyhusband. We’ll bring him home together.”
“Keep me updated,” I say.
I have a contraband cellphone, though not from Miles Griffin—I never trusted that he wasn’t monitoring the calls and texts on his clandestine network. Like my mother, Miles never misses an angle.
My mom and I have been in contact with Dom and Freya via our own phones. Because it’s difficult for me to find privacy on campus, Freya sends the complex or non-time-sensitive information via letters.
I can speak to my mom the same way. But as she turns to leave, already wearing a pair of trousers and a light coat, much more streamlined than Miss Robin’s usual cardigans, I feel a stab of fear for her.
As awful as the last few years have been, I knew my mother was secure on Visine Dvorca. Now she’s venturing out in the world again, with more fire in her eyes than I’ve seen in a long time. I’m worried what might happen to her.
The week passes achingly slow.
We’re in the doldrums of January, thick in some of the most dense and convoluted classes I’ve taken in my entire time at Kingmakers.
Worse, a flu is sweeping through the students, something that seems to happen every year despite our isolation.
Almost everybody in the Octagon Tower catches it, including Leo and me.
It takes me four or five days to recover, during which time I live off tea and toast from the dining hall. Luckily Hedeon caught it too, so I don’t have to drag myself too far to keep an eye on him. Leo hates laying around, so he pretends to be recovered, though he still sounds like an asthmatic seal. Hedeon looks like walking death—he’s been so sick that he hasn’t even been trying to “accidentally” sit by Cara at every single meal.
Every minute I’m expecting a call or text from my mom. When she does update me, her messages are encouraging but vague. She met up with Adrik and they’re gathering information, trying to make absolutely certain that we’ve found the right place. We’ll only get one shot at this.
I’m dying to see Nix. My constant excuses to her so that I can keep tracking Hedeon are really starting to piss her off. She thinks I don’t want to see her, when in reality I could peel my own flesh off my bones out of sheer desperation.
Finally my mother texts me late in the afternoon, telling me to find a private spot so we can speak.
As soon as I call her, she says, “It’s time.”
The word “time” vibrates in my ear like a bell. I’m frozen in place, hearing my lips say, “You found him? He’s there?”
“I’m certain of it,” she says, quietly.
I’ve never been so excited and so scared. All the clarity of what we’re doing here comes rushing back to me.
“What do I have to do?”
“Marko is here, and Kuzmo too. We need one of them to open the cell door—you can guess which one I’d prefer.”
