Julie Kagawa

Soldier


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here.”

      I nodded, smiling faintly in return. “There is something I wanted to ask you,” I said. “You’re a scout now, right?”

      His brow furrowed, as if that fact was painful. “Yeah,” he answered shortly. “After that close encounter with a bullet, I couldn’t go on any more raids. They stuck me with intel gathering, rooting out Talon activity in assigned areas.”

      “And the number of strikes has increased recently, correct?”

      Again, he nodded, though there was a wariness to him now, as if he knew where I was going with this.

      “How are you getting the information?” I asked.

      “Good question. Wish I could answer it.” His brow furrowed as he gazed back down at the city. “The Order hasn’t contacted me in several months,” he admitted. “I haven’t found or given them any information, and I know several others in the same boat as me. St. George isn’t using its scouts to find the nests. And yet...the number of strikes is at an all-time high.” He made a vague gesture with his hand. “How are they finding these dragons? They’re certainly not coming to us.”

      I frowned. That wasn’t what I was expecting. I’d contacted Andrew because I had hoped to learn why Order attacks on dragons had taken such a jump. But if St. George wasn’t using its scouts at all...

      “That is strange,” I muttered.

      “I think so, too,” Andrew agreed. “And it gets even stranger. I asked around, trying to find where the Order has been getting their information, and you know what I heard?” A dubious look crossed his face. “Rumors are that the Patriarch himself is receiving visions from God, telling him where to find the devils.”

      My brows rose. The Patriarch was more than the leader of St. George; he was almost a holy figure in the eyes of the Order. Only the most revered, staunchest devotee of St. George could become Patriarch, and once the position was filled, it was his for life. The council chose a new Patriarch only when the old one died, as they had done since the Order was founded. The Patriarch was a symbol of purity, incorruptible and utterly dedicated to the cause. But visions from God? I wasn’t sure what to think about that.

      “Has he been right?” I wondered.

      Andrew barked a laugh.

      “Well, I don’t know where the man is getting his intel, but whether it’s from God or not, he’s been spot-on every time. Wherever he sends the teams, they find dragons. I guess the Order doesn’t need us anymore.”

      I fell silent, thinking. The capsule spun lazily, stopping every so often as the Eye picked up new passengers or let others off. A gull flapped by, soaring past us toward the river. “Is Order headquarters in the same spot?” I asked finally.

      Andrew nodded. “Same place it’s been for the past hundred years,” he answered. “Why?” His eyes widened. “You’re not thinking of going in! Sebastian, they’ll put a hole in your head before you get past the front desk.”

      “Relax, I’m not going inside.” There wouldn’t be any point. Headquarters would not leave suspicious files or dealings out in plain sight, and I wasn’t a computer genius like Wes, able to hack my way through almost anything. I’d never been to Order HQ, didn’t know the layout of the building, its cameras or security systems; if I sneaked in, I’d be going in blind, something I didn’t care for. Besides, I was a wanted man within the Order; venturing into the heart of St. George’s operations seemed like a bad idea.

      Andrew watched me, a suspicious look crossing his face. “Don’t suppose you’re going to let me know what you’re planning, are you?”

      “Sorry, Andrew.” I offered a half smile. “No offense, but if anyone does find out we spoke, I can’t risk the Order discovering anything about me. Better for us both if you know nothing.”

      “Fair enough.” The other gave a brisk nod. “I don’t like it, but fair enough. Just answer me this, Sebastian.” He pushed himself off the wall and stood straight, his gaze intense. “Is what they say about you true?” he asked in a grim voice. “Did you really throw in with the lizards? To destabilize the Order and everything it stands for?”

      I hesitated. The question wasn’t angry, or accusing. It was just a question, from someone who wanted a serious answer. For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. Andrew might be helping me, but he was still part of the Order, someone who hated dragons and accepted that they were soulless monsters. I could’ve brushed it off, told him what he wanted to hear, but deep down, he would know I was lying, and that would be a disservice to someone I respected.

      “I’m trying to uncover the truth,” I said at last. “Too many things happened that don’t make sense with what the Order taught us. I can’t ignore it anymore. I want to know whether the Order is hiding things from us. If they are who they say they are.”

      “Damn.” Andrew regarded me solemnly. “Dangerous ground, Sebastian. I might have my own questions about the Order, but you’re talking treason. No wonder St. George wants your head on a pike.” He gave me a look that was both suspicious and resigned. “What is it you’re hoping to uncover, exactly?”

      “I don’t know,” I said. “Truthfully, I hope I’m wrong. But with what I’ve been through... I have to be sure.”

      “Well, you’re right about one thing,” Andrew said. “I don’t want anything to do with whatever you’re planning. If you’re determined to go poking around the affairs of the Patriarch himself...” He raised both hands in a distancing gesture. “I won’t warn him you’re coming, but if you don’t watch where you’re stepping, you’re going get yourself killed. But you know that better than I do.” He sighed. “After this, you’re going to vanish and I won’t ever see you again, I suppose.”

      “Probably not.”

      Andrew nodded slowly. “Well, good luck to you, Sebastian,” he muttered, with the expression of someone who thought the other was going to die. “You’re going to need it.”

      * * *

      After the meeting with Andrew, I tackled my next obstacle: renting a car at seventeen, on a fake ID, in a foreign country. The clerk at the rental place gave me dubious looks all through the transaction but finally handed over the keys. Another barrier cleared. The bigger concern was the dwindling amount of cash in my wallet. I was loath to draw anything from the small stipend I’d acquired from my years in the Order, as my funds were limited and I had no way to get more. But certain things were necessary, and being able to move about the country without depending on taxis or trains was one of them. After that was done, I waited a few hours until early evening, when the sun was just beginning to sink into the west. Time to seek some answers.

      Sliding behind the wheel on the right side of the car, I headed north across the river, following the map in my head. I’d never seen nor been inside St. George headquarters, but Tristan had told me where it was located, so I knew where I was going. Past St. George’s Bloomsbury, St. George’s Court and St. George’s Gardens, my heart beating faster with every mile deeper that I went into Order territory.

      Not far from King’s Cross station, I pulled to the curb behind a double-decker bus, across the street from a row of unmarked office buildings, and let the engine run. Around me, it seemed like a perfectly normal afternoon; vehicles cruised down the road and civilians walked down the sidewalks, going about their business. Everything looked commonplace; there was nothing to indicate that an ancient order of knights waged war from this very spot, invisible to the public.

      I leaned back in my seat, pulled my cap low over my eyes and waited.

      Thirty seconds after seventeen hundred, a vehicle emerged from the private underground garage across the street. A black sedan with tinted windows rolled smoothly out of the darkness, turned left and cruised away.

      Putting the car into Drive, I followed.