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V anya

The Shadowhand’s mask feels heavier today. I adjust it for the fourth time in as many minutes, rolling my shoulders to loosen the knot that’s formed there.

Three days since they left. Three days of performing normally while everything inside me has shattered. I reach through our bond, feeling for Hargen’s presence across the distance. He’s there—faint but unmistakable. The connection tells me they’ve reached safety but offers no details.

The intercom buzzes, interrupting my thoughts.

“Elder Arrowvane,” Marek’s voice carries professional detachment. “The quarterly security briefing begins in ten minutes.”

“Thank you,” I respond, voice steady despite the storm inside. “I’ll be there shortly.”

I stand, smoothing invisible wrinkles from my suit. Everything in place. Every emotion contained. The same discipline that’s kept me alive for so long must now carry me through endless days without Ember’s laughter or those few precious moments I’d shared with Hargen.

Focus on what matters. The work. The network. The families who depend on you.

But the emptiness follows like a shadow as I walk through corridors where junior staff straighten when I pass, conversations halting mid-sentence. The Shadowhand still commands fear, still maintains authority that can protect what matters.

The conference room falls silent as I enter. Five figures are seated around the table, their masks reflecting light. The Ivory League is in session, minus Vex, who appears to be running late.

“Colleagues.” I take my seat, nodding to each in turn. “Shall we begin?”

Elder Cymbane gestures to the holographic display above the table. “Security protocols review. In light of recent… inconsistencies.”

Inconsistencies…

I keep my expression neutral behind my mask, though my pulse quickens.

Has something been discovered already?

“What inconsistencies?” I ask, projecting mild curiosity.

Elder Helestre leans forward. “Communication anomalies within certain departments. Unusual access patterns in the archives. Nothing conclusive, but enough to warrant enhanced monitoring.”

My hands remain steady on the table as the presentation begins. Statistical analyses. Security breach probabilities. Recommended countermeasures.

I offer comments at the right moments. The perfect illusion of engagement while my mind calculates implications, identifies threats, assesses vulnerabilities.

Did I miss something when wiping the safe house’s connection traces? Could they have tracked the communication with Viktor?

The door opens, and Elder Vex finally arrives. He moves to his seat, head tilted in apology.

“My deepest regrets for the delay,” he says smoothly. “I was finalizing the new loyalty verification procedures.”

My blood freezes, though I maintain perfect stillness.

“Loyalty verification?” Elder Flamebrow asks. “Is that necessary?”

Vex’s mask turns toward each member, finally settling on me.

“In light of our recent concerns, absolutely. Director Creed and I have developed a comprehensive approach—magical resonance scanning, psychological assessment, and bloodline verification for all Ivory League members and their direct reports.”

“Invasive,” I observe, keeping my tone thoughtful rather than alarmed. “Such measures might undermine the trust that makes us effective.”

Vex’s attention fixes on me now. “Those with nothing to hide have nothing to fear, Elder Arrowvane.”

“I think it’s safe to say that the Shadowhand is above reproach, Elder Vex,” says Elder Empyreal. “Her methods should be enough to prove that.”

“If you’re referring to the incident with the infiltrator, I acknowledge that some tough decisions were made. But this doesn’t excuse her from the same treatment as everyone else.”

“I think that Elder Arrowvane’s swift elimination of Hargen Cole, as detailed in her report, saved the Syndicate untold complications,” Elder Kiasog interjects. “If he’d been left free to carry out whatever plans he had in mind, who knows what kind of a mess we’d be dealing with now.”

“Let’s not make too much of this,” I interrupt smoothly, not wanting to spend too much time on this particular topic. After Hargen left with Ember, I submitted a report saying he’d failed intensive screening, which warranted his “disposal.”

Execution rights are within the scope of Shadowhand operations, and are never questioned; it’s how Cassia and I have helped vulnerable clan members to “disappear” in the past. I conduct investigations that lead to death sentences that allow us to get people out of sight.

It’s given the Shadowhand a fearsome reputation that I’ve reinforced by portraying myself as a hardline loyalist to Ivory League tradition.

But right now, I’m not sure Vex is convinced.

“So you agree with our new verification procedures?” He looks at me.

The implication hangs between us. For a heartbeat, I wonder if he knows. If somehow, the walls between my identities have begun to crumble.

“Of course,” I agree smoothly. “I simply prefer approaches that preserve our efficiency.”

The meeting continues, but I feel Vex’s attention returning to me. Studying. Assessing. Looking for cracks in armor he’s never penetrated.

He suspects something. But what?

As the meeting concludes, I gather my materials, already calculating my next move. I need more information about these verification protocols, and I know exactly where to get it.

“Elder Arrowvane,” Cassia calls from the corridor as I exit, her professional tone masking urgency. “I’ve prepared those bloodline records you requested. They’re available in the archives when you’re ready.”

I nod, understanding the coded message. “I’ll head there now. Walk with me.”

We move through the building with purpose, our conversation mundane until we reach the executive archives. The room’s magical dampening fields make it one of the few places safe from surveillance, though Cassia takes no chances, keeping her voice low.

“You’re slipping,” she says as we stand side by side, reviewing bloodline records.

“I’m fine,” I respond, not looking up from the file.

“No, you’re not.” Her fingers brush mine as she passes a document, the gesture appearing professional while conveying urgency. “Vex noticed your hesitation during the loyalty verification discussion. He commented on it afterward.”

My stomach tightens. “What exactly did he say?”

“That you seemed unusually concerned about measures designed to expose traitors.” She turns a page, creating noise for any listening devices that might penetrate the dampening fields. “Vanya, the new verification procedures aren’t just talk. They’ve already begun in the lower levels.”

“How invasive?”

“Complete neural scanning. Memory retrieval. They detect connections formed within the past three months.” Her voice drops lower. “They’re looking for something specific.”

Three months.

My connection with Hargen stretches back decades, safely predating their scanners. But the recent activation of our bond to plan Ember’s escape—that would show clearly in any detailed scan.

“Have they reached our division yet?”

“Two days out, according to the schedule.” Cassia closes the file with precision. “Zeller and Brixton have already requested emergency leave. The Bristol family disappeared overnight.”

Members of our network, already fleeing. The safety system beginning to cave under pressure.

“And the families in the southern district?”

“Evacuation in progress, but quietly. One family at a time to avoid pattern recognition.” She meets my eyes directly. “Vanya, you should consider—”

“No.” The word is sharp.

“Vanya—”

“I made my choice, Cassia.” I organize the files, hands steady through sheer force of will. “I stay. I continue the work. You focus on getting the vulnerable families out.”

She studies me for long moments. “This isn’t just about the network anymore, is it? It’s about them. About what you gave up.”

My throat tightens unexpectedly. In all our years working together, we’ve never discussed the personal. Never acknowledged the costs.

“Ember is safe,” I say finally. “That’s what matters.”

“And him?” she asks softly.

An image flashes—Hargen’s face in early morning light, watching me with quiet intensity. The careful way his fingers traced my cheek as if memorizing it. The promise in his eyes that somehow, impossibly, we would find our way back to each other.

“He understood,” I say, though the words feel hollow. “He didn’t agree, but he understood.”

Cassia’s expression softens with rare compassion. “The tests will detect recent emotional upheaval. They’ll see something happened, even if they can’t identify what.”

“Then I’ll give them something else to see.” I close the final file decisively. “Schedule me for the purification raid in Sector Twelve. Full participation, not just oversight.”

Her eyes widen. “That’s a high-risk operation, even for someone with your clearance.”

“Exactly. It will explain any emotional disturbance. Show commitment to the cause.”

She nods slowly, understanding the strategy even as concern crosses her face. “The family has already been evacuated through our network. The house will be empty.”

“Perfect. I’ll express enraged disappointment at the targets’ escape. Recommend increased surveillance in neighboring sectors.”

As we prepare to leave the archives, Cassia touches my arm briefly. “How are you really, Vanya?”

The question catches me off guard. So simple, yet no one has asked it in days. Perhaps years.

“I’m…” The words catch in my throat. Empty. Hollow. Shattered. “Focused on what matters.”

She sees through the evasion but doesn’t press. “I’ll update the evacuation protocols. Be careful with Vex.”

I give a sharp nod and leave the room, making my way back to my offices. There, I bury myself in tedious admin until thoughts of Ember and Hargen fade to something tolerable.