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Y ou believe that your spell destabilized the Deep.”

Councilwoman Nasir doesn’t phrase it as a question, but Roma answers anyway. “Yes, ma’am. Or?—or Esmeralda Laguerre suspects that the Deep is responsible for the epidemic, at least. I’m inclined to agree.”

“And when did Laguerre notify you of this… suspicion?”

Roma resists the urge to fidget. She never really enjoys her mission reports in Nasir’s foreboding office?—especially when, like now, she doesn’t have her strike team by her side?—but today’s feels especially uncomfortable. Partly because Roma requested this meeting instead of the councilwoman, partly because of its subject matter about Roma’s catastrophic failure??—

And partly, she thinks with some confusion, because Councilwoman Nasir looks much more intent on this update than Roma expected her to be. Swallowing hard, she squares her shoulders. “Approximately six days ago?—just before Strike Team Kappa was sent out on our most recent mission. I wanted to research the topic personally before bringing it to your attention, which is why I didn’t ask to meet with you sooner.”

Plus, Roma needed to figure out how to tell Councilwoman Nasir the pertinent information?—namely, that the Deep is responsible for the mega-rifts and needs to be dealt with as soon as possible?—without telling her the other pertinent information.

The part that Roma is still trying not to think about.

“I see.” Nasir laces her fingers together on the desk in front of her, fixing Roma with a calculating gaze. “And how do you plan to remedy this situation?”

“Well?—?” Roma’s throat feels dry. “Laguerre’s friend Obadiah Smith is searching for a spell that’ll let us confirm whether the Deep is truly involved. If that comes up positive, then we’ll have to create a point-by-point counterspell for the Magic-Weaver’s spell and use the Deep to activate it. That should break the endless loop of mega-rifts.”

“Hm.” Slowly, Councilwoman Nasir nods. “Very well. I’ll expect a full report once you confirm whether the Deep is involved, as well as a copy of your intended counterspell before you cast it. In addition, I want a detailed analysis of any information you obtain about the Deep during this process?—its dimensions, magic volume, limits, idiosyncrasies. Anything and everything that differentiates it from a standard magic reservoir.”

Roma almost starts with surprise. She anticipated the first two stipulations, but a detailed analysis of the Deep’s properties? As far as she knows, understanding Redwater’s quirky magic reservoir has never been a priority for the Sanctum, much less Councilwoman Nasir. “Um. Yes, ma’am.”

“I would advise you to take this research aspect particularly seriously,” Nasir continues, her steely eyes sharp and precise. “When you were first assigned this mission, it was with the understanding that success would earn you a match with Kenneth Long. While that reward is still on the table, your supply of goodwill with the Council is rapidly running dry. Tread carefully.”

A wisp of resentment curls in Roma’s chest. It’s not resentful of Councilwoman Nasir, not exactly?—no, it’s more resentful of the entire situation.

Resentful that she was given this impossible assignment in the first place. Resentful that getting paired with Kenneth Long, a bona fide purebred, is both her most fervent desire and a constant source of dread. Resentful that she’s spent the past few months doing almost nothing but close mega-rifts, resentful that the epidemic is entirely her fault??—

Resentful of the Sanctum and everything they represent. Resentful of Naomi and Sawyer, too, but she’s doing her best not to think about Naomi and Sawyer lately. “Understood, ma’am,” Roma says stiffly.

“Good.” Councilwoman Nasir reaches into her desk, pulls out a cell phone, and swipes into it. “Until then, you’re dismissed.”

Roma inclines her head politely before backing out of the room, making sure the door clicks shut behind her. Fighting back a grimace, she turns down the hallway and starts towards the staircase, trying to make heads or tails of that meeting.

In some respects, it actually went better than expected. Roma was fully prepared to be punished for accidentally destabilizing the Deep, and all she got was a warning that her potential marriage with Long is on thin ice. A few weeks ago, the idea of losing that upward mobility would’ve haunted her, but now??—

Now, she has more pressing concerns to haunt her. And Councilwoman Nasir’s sudden interest in the Deep is just one of many. Is it an academic interest? A convenient opportunity to study a magic anomaly?

Or something darker?

So that’s the conspiracy you and Ez found: the Sanctum and the Chain have been on the same side from the start.

An unfamiliar surge of defiance rises in Roma’s chest. Against her common sense and better judgment?—and before she can lose her nerve?—she looks both ways down the hall, tiptoes back to the councilwoman’s door, and presses her ear against the polished wood.

“No, this isn’t about the Jackson situation,” Nasir is saying to the person on the other end of the phone. “But I did just have a very interesting conversation with Roma Gutierrez. She’s convinced that the Deep might be responsible for the recent proliferation of mega-rifts. If we can confirm that, then this could be the perfect opportunity to conduct more research for Operation Thirteen.”

Operation Thirteen? Bewildered, Roma leans closer. The Sanctum has longstanding goals and objectives, but she’s never heard of one with such an official title. Usually, they just refer to them in general terms: the operation at Lakeside, the mission on the Redwater–Kingsborough border??—

The Jackson situation. Stomach churning, Roma strains her ears to hear more.

“Of course,” Councilwoman Nasir says now. “If you call a meeting, I’ll explain the situation personally to Long and Nehemiah. Time is of the essence.”

Roma’s eyebrows furrow. Nasir must be talking to Eugene Solomon, Sawyer’s grandfather and the current president of the Council. Mei Long and Alexei Nehemiah?—Kenneth’s mother and Bryant’s uncle, respectively?—are the two other purebred members.

Roma isn’t surprised to not hear Antonia Mendoza’s name. While Redwater’s four purebred families have lifetime seats on the Council, a fifth representative from the mixed-breed families is chosen every two years?—and, although it’s a great honor to be selected, it’s widely known that the job mostly consists of grunt work. That’s the position that Roma’s father almost got six years ago, the position that Naomi’s defection cost him.

For the first time, Roma wonders if losing that opportunity was actually a good thing.

Nasir’s conversation with Solomon shifts into more technical matters?—something about the purebred interrogators on the prison’s night shift. Letting out a slow breath, Roma backs away from the door, turns down the first side hallway, and starts the slow plod up to her bedroom.

Is any of this really worth it? Her mission, her purpose, her life? Roma saw those allegedly “lost” neophyte demons in the Sanctum’s prison with her own eyes, and even though she desperately doesn’t want to believe Naomi and Sawyer’s conspiracy theory, she has to admit that they provided a plausible?—if horrifying?—explanation for the entire mystery.

And ever since then, Roma has felt further from the rest of the Sanctum than ever. Talking with other hunters or even Bryant nowadays leaves a twisting in her stomach and a foul taste in her mouth, like she can’t figure out how much of what they’re saying is true, how much of it is what the Sanctum wants them to believe??—

How much of it is a flat-out lie to keep them in line.

And she hasn’t even been able to look Chester in the eye since last week. Even the thought that the Sanctum might’ve orchestrated his family’s murders and then used that grief and anger to brainwash him??—

Well. It’s far more than Roma is mentally and emotionally equipped to handle right now.

Maybe she just needs a little distance. Maybe she needs to step outside the cold hallways of the Sanctum, walk back into Redwater, and remind herself that the rest of the world is still turning.

Of course, if she does that, then she’ll probably be accosted in short order by Esmeralda Laguerre. Honestly, though, Roma isn’t even sure if she minds being accosted by Esmeralda Laguerre anymore.

It’s more like Roma doesn’t want to face the fragile intimacy that crystallized between them the other night. Doesn’t want to face the Ez who argued that Roma should be allowed into the secret meeting, the Ez who hauled her out of range when Obie threatened Sawyer, the Ez who sat down next to her in the Courtyard to debrief.

Part of Roma is scared that she’ll do something to break that tiny thread of connection.

Part of her is scared that she’ll do something to make it wind even tighter around her heart. Sighing, Roma unlocks the door to her room, shoulders her way inside, shuts it firmly behind her??—

And promptly stifles a shriek of surprise, jerking backwards and summoning her ax into her hand, when the very demon whose self-assured smirk has been monopolizing Roma’s daydreams blinks into existence sprawled across her bed. “Hey,” Ez says, hands laced together behind her head and one ankle crossed neatly over her knee. “’Sup?”

“What?—??” Roma nearly chokes on the word, her heart hammering against her ribcage. “What are you doing here? How did you get into the Sanctum? How did you find my room? Why??—??”

“It’s adorable how you lackeys assume that your precious Sanctum is an impregnable fortress,” Ez says, and she snaps her fingers. The soft breeze of a soundproofing spell settles into place around them. “Or that it’s difficult to navigate.”

Slowly, Roma releases her grip on her ax, letting it slip back into its fold in spacetime. “That doesn’t answer any of my questions,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Namely, what the hell are you doing here?”

Ez arches an eyebrow. “Looking for you, obviously. You don’t call, you don’t write. You don’t show up to help me close mega-rifts. I got bored waiting around for you.”

Roma’s heart flutters. “You broke into a high-security compound crawling with hunters just to talk with me?”

Ez wrinkles her nose. “I think ‘high-security’ is an overstatement, but yes.” She swings her legs around to plant her feet on the floor, eyes narrowing. “So let’s talk. Where the hell have you been? Does the Council have you on lockdown again or something?”

And Roma??—

Roma should feel a wide variety of emotions about a demon, an enemy, sneaking into the Sanctum to track her down. Shocked and appalled, as a start. Unsettled and disturbed, definitely.

What she should not feel is strangely pleased. Annoyed, she forces down the twirl of happiness in her chest. “No. I was just on a job for a few days.”

Ez raises her eyebrows in challenge. “Valid. Then where have you been for all the days besides those ‘few days’?”

Roma scowls, sinking into her desk chair to sit facing Ez. “Here.”

“Very specific, Gutierrez.” She leans forward to rest her hands on her knees, considering Roma closely. “Talk to me. Is it the conspiracy thing? The Deep thing? The ‘possibility of performing an unproven spell that could kill us both’ thing?”

Roma almost laughs. “All of the above, plus a few other things for good measure,” she says, slumping back in her seat. “Look, I’m just?—I’m just tired, okay? I’m just tired of this whole mega-rift epidemic, and I’m tired of whatever’s going on with the Sanctum, and??—?”

And I’m tired of this mission, too. I’m tired of lying to you to get to JJ.

Roma takes a deep breath. Decides to use the smallest sliver of truth she can manage. “I just miss,” she says quietly, looking down at her hands, “how it was last year. Back before JJ abandoned us, and before the epidemic started, and?—and before I even suspected the Sanctum and the Chain of working together. Everything was so simple back then. So black and white. And now, it’s just?—?” She shakes her head. “It’s just complicated.”

“Look, I’m not a big fan of any of those changes, either,” Ez says. “Except for JJ joining our squad, because he’s honestly a riot, and he’s also good for Cass and all that jazz. But as far as the conspiracy…” Her jaw works. “I know you’re dealing with the implications of, you know, your entire life potentially being a lie, but have you thought about what it looks like from our side yet? From the Chain’s side? Roma, they’re handing over demons just like me and my friends to be tortured and probably killed by our worst enemies, and?—and we don’t even know why.” She lets out her breath in a hiss. “I haven’t exactly been doing well with all this, either.”

Roma’s heart does something unsteady. For the first time all week, for the first time since she locked herself away from Redwater to try and forget about her assignment and the epidemic and the conspiracy and everything? ? —

For the first time in what seems like years, she feels like someone finally sees her. “I have been thinking about that,” Roma admits. “Trying to see it from the Chain’s point of view. I just can’t figure out what they have to gain from any of this. Are there higher-ups who want to stay in power? Maybe they’re worried about too much competition from neophytes?”

Ez scoffs. “No one wants to be a higher-up in the Chain. It’s way too much paperwork with way too few benefits. And neophyte demons don’t stay in the town they were summoned in?—they usually get sent to a different state, at a minimum. Sometimes even a different country or continent.” Her jaw tightens. “Which ties into what the Conspiracy Fam said about this being a global issue, but I’m really trying not to think about that.”

A pang twists through Roma. Ez looks just as lost as Roma feels, just as frustrated and dejected, and despite the serious conversation, a warm swirl of solidarity curls through Roma’s chest. “Life’s a mess right now.”

Ez snorts. “Yeah. Yeah, you can say that again.”

For a long moment, they lapse into silence. Roma closes her eyes, slowly letting her shoulders relax. Despite the fact that she was raised with Bryant and has been friends with Chester for twelve years, despite the fact that the Sanctum has always been her life??—

Despite all that, she feels more content and more understood sitting here with a demon than she has in a long time.

“But circling back to our current crisis,” Ez says eventually, and Roma reluctantly opens her eyes. Ez looks like she’s fighting back a grimace. “Obie found our spell?—the one we can use to check if the Deep is stable. It’s a proven spell, so the risks would be minimal. Just about as much as any other spell that involves an ancient and barely understood magic reservoir.”

Roma arches an eyebrow. “Right. ‘Minimal.’”

Ez’s lips twitch. “I looked over the spell with my people, and it doesn’t seem too complicated. From what I’ve seen of your spellcasting, I think you’ll agree. We can probably cast it with about an hour of prep time, including a few dry runs. You want to give it a shot?”

Roma’s stomach churns. “Not like I have much of a choice,” she says quietly, the all-too-familiar drumbeat of guilt wracking through her. “Do you want to do it now?”

Ez shakes her head. “Sunrise or sunset would be better from a spellcasting perspective. Since you usually look dead on your feet in the mornings, sunset will probably be our best bet. Want to do it after tomorrow’s rift-closing shift? Maybe on the far side of the lake? Technically, the veil between Earth and the Deep is thinnest in the Courtyard, but we’ll have a lot more privacy on the west side.”

This time, an entirely different sensation shivers through Roma’s veins. Casting a tag-team spell at sunset on the shore of a lake sounds like something out of a fairy tale, one of the ones that kids like Chester and JJ grew up with.

One of the ones Roma never thought she would care about. “Yeah,” she says at last, nodding. “Yeah, we can do that. Meet you in the Courtyard tomorrow at eight?”

“I’ll have coffee waiting,” Ez confirms, and she pushes herself to her feet, stretching her arms above her head. “All right. I’m out of here. Rest up, Gutierrez. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

Roma’s throat feels dry. “Later, Laguerre,” she says softly, and Ez throws her a cautious smile before snapping her fingers, somehow opening a rift in the middle of the Sanctum’s anti-rifting spell work, and disappearing from sight.

Roma stays in her seat for a few minutes after she leaves. Catches her breath, makes sure Ez isn’t coming back. Eventually, she stands up on shaky legs, stumbles over to her bed, and eases herself onto the mattress right where Ez was sitting, curling up on her side and burying her face in her pillow.

She really did it. She managed to gain Ez’s trust. She’s closer than ever to completing her mission, closer than ever to having everything she ever wanted??—

But can she really go through with it?

And, more importantly, does she even want to anymore?