“After I met you… and realized Anna was ramping up the Course for a new round… well, that changed things. Gave our meetings a new kind of urgency. Once you’ve been through what Anna calls ‘training,’ you’d have to be a psychopath to just sit back and watch someone else go through it. Doesn’t matter if they’re a stranger. You can’t watch that happen. Not if you’re still human.”
He didn’t say my name, but the meaning landed. Now, the way he’d offered up his coins made more sense. It wasn’t just guilt. It was something heavier. The kind of weight you carry when you recognize the pattern too late, and someone else walks straight into it.
Hayden continued, a dark light in his eyes, “It turned into a new obsession for us. We stopped just meeting to talk. We started hunting… for answers.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my throat feeling dry. I fumbled for my water bottle.
“We needed purpose. Something that wasn’t just survival.” He let out a harsh breath. “We didn’t know what we could actually do, but we knew the first steps: tracking the ‘mentors’ and their chosen settlers. My position as an employment officer let me keep tabs, discreetly. So far, I know three names: you, Frederick—Burchard’s ward—and Pearl, from my own island. Willoughby’s got her. After that, things get murky.”
I let out a low whistle, unable to hide my surprise. “Perks of the job, huh?”
“Perks of knowing who to ask,” he corrected. “We’ve tried to track whoever we could, keep a loose net cast. We even managed to figure out the first training site—they kept it the same as before. But the one thing we couldn’t nail down was timing. Until you let it slip.”
I felt the group’s attention swing to me.
“And then…” I hesitated, suddenly fitting pieces together. “Wait… did you… could you have…?”
Hayden’s lips curled in a slow, dark, almost satisfied smile. “Did I what?” he asked.
“Was it somehow you… and your group… that caused today’s delay? The technical glitch?” I asked. He knew where the location was. He’d just admitted that. And he told me yesterday he would try to help me. And…
He leaned back slightly, still watching me. “Did we?” he repeated, voice quiet, the faintest hint of a challenge beneath the words. “I don’t know, what do you think?”
My friends erupted with questions—“How?” “When?” “What did you do?”—but Hayden only stood, his chair scraping quietly on the cave floor.
He nodded toward the corridor. “Come downstairs. I think we’re done in here, for now.”
Hayden moved ahead of us, his stride purposeful, boots echoing on damp stone as he crossed to the center of the large cave. His hand rested on the lid of a black box which sat in the center. His posture was taut, radiating a presence that brought the room to an immediate hush. Even Miranda and the other seven, who’d been muttering quietly among themselves, fell silent, eyes drawn to him with a kind of wary expectation.
I couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he took command, filling the space without ever needing to raise his voice.
Before he moved, Hayden’s gaze flicked to Miranda, then back to me—a silent, loaded question. The trust issue was out in the open, prickling the air with discomfort.
I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, Celine—the muscular woman with the buzzed black hair—leaned forward in her seat, arms crossed over her chest. “We grilled Miranda,” she said, her voice carrying in the cavern. “Trust me, she’s solid. My gut’s never wrong. She stays.”
A brief, wordless exchange passed between Celine and Hayden: challenge, consideration, a flash of something like respect. Finally, Hayden gave Miranda a nod—no apology, just inclusion. For a moment, I saw Miranda’s jaw tighten, but she inclined her head, acceptance and nerves mingling in her expression.
Satisfied, Hayden popped the latches on the box and lifted the lid. Inside, light caught the edges of what looked like… bundled metal rods.
“What the hell is that?” I asked, unable to keep the skepticism from my voice.
Before Hayden could answer, a new voice cut in, low, gravelly, tinged with humor. “It’s a piece of the reason Anna’s system crashed today.”
I turned to see an older man I hadn’t really noticed before.He stood a little apart from the group: stocky, weathered, with a bald head and intense umber eyes. The silver ring on his finger gleamed in the candlelight—a detail that, judging by my friends’ faces, we all registered at once.
“Tani, meet Crow,” Hayden said coolly. “If you want to know how things actually work around here, he’s the guy. As I mentioned, not everyone here is a Course drop-out…”
Crow stepped forward and shook my hand, his grip dry and firm. “And to answer the next question—yeah, I’m silver, and yeah, I still hang with these degenerates.” His grin was sharp, almost wolfish. “But if we’re telling stories, we better do it fast. Time’s not really on our side tonight.”
“What did you do?” Jessie blurted. “What is all that?”
Hayden shot Crow a glance, letting the older man have the floor.
Crow crouched by the box, fingers brushing the metal like it was some forbidden relic. “Let’s just say Anna’s people don’t think anyone will touch their network infrastructure.”
FORTY-ONE
Crow strodeto a battered canvas sack in the corner and hefted it with one hand. “Suit up, dark as you can get,” he said, tossing out black shirts, hooded sweatshirts, and thin gloves. The fabric was worn but serviceable. I caught mine on reflex, the sharp scent of salt and old earth clinging to it.
