Brother Matthias smiled the smile that saidI don’t believe you.His eyes moved to Riot and narrowed.
“Seeker Riot,” he said. “Your eyes.”
Everything in Cass went cold.
“They flickered,” Brother Matthias began, “just now. Gold. Was that—”
“Residual ocular effects from the Endeavor modifications.” Riot sounded calm, but he squeezed Cass’s hand a little too hard under the table. “They catch the light sometimes, but they were decommissioned. They pose no threat.”
“Fascinating. I’m sure Brother Cyrus would love a chance to examine your eyes when you are more settled.” Brother Matthias looked at Riot, then at Cass, and then where their arms disappeared under the table.
The dread settled into Cass’s stomach and stayed. The warmth of gentle kisses with Riot and Honey hugging him was gone, burned off like morning mist.
He was scared.
Not for himself. For Riot, whose eyes had just betrayed him. For Sage, who had shaved her head and for Honey, who was still arranging fruit and still saying no. He was scared for all of them, and fear for other people being hurt made Cass feel brave. Not brave the way Riot was brave—not controlled, not strategic, not the always assessing and ready to punch something brave. Bravein the way a body was brave when it stepped between a rifle and a Berserker covered in blood.
“Brother Matthias,” Cass said, waiting until his mentor’s gaze met his. “I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday. About the negative energy from the—from what the wild Berserkers did. The contamination.”
Matthias’s attention settled on him fully.
“I can feel it.” Cass reluctantly pulled his hand from Riot’s and pulled at the front of his robes before his hand went to one of the beads in his hair and rubbed it. Smooth and rough, smooth and rough, around and around. “It’s getting worse. I don’t want it to affect anyone in the community.”
“That’s a very responsible concern, Brother Cassiopeia.”
“I was hoping—could we schedule a release? I know the reprieve doesn’t end until morning, but I’d feel better if we didn’t wait.”
Riot squeezed his leg so hard it hurt, but Cass didn’t look away from Brother Matthias. If Riot was already cracking, and Honey needed more time, he would buy it.
“That’s very evolved of you, Brother Cassiopeia,” Brother Matthias said softly. “And very selfless. The community’s well-being should always come first.”
“It does,” Cass said.
“We’ll schedule a session for this evening. Before night meditation. In your home, as always, since the familiar environment helps the energy move more freely.” His hand squeezed Cass’s sore shoulder, his thumb pressing in. “I’m proud of you.”
Then he left and the commissary exhaled.
“What did you just do?” Sage demanded.
Honey looked between them—at Sage’s stone face, at Riot’s locked jaw, at whatever was on Cass’s face that he couldn’tsee from the inside. “What? What’s wrong? It’s just a release session. He gets them all the time.”
Nobody answered her. Sage was looking at Cass with an expression that would have been terrifying if it wasn’t also, underneath the anger, something like pity. Riot hadn’t moved. Hadn’t spoken. His hand was still locked on Cass’s leg and his breathing was very even and very controlled in the way that meant it was taking everything he had to keep it that way.
“You have until this evening,” Cass said to Honey, his hand slipping beneath the table to stroke Riot’s knuckles. “Talk to Sage, please. You are the smartest, most brilliant person I know. I love you, Honey, and we did a lot to get here. But when the session is done…we’re going to go. Please don’t make me leave you behind. I don’t want to make you water the rosemary by yourself.”
“Cass—” Riot’s voice was barely there.
“I’ve been doing this since I was sixteen,” Cass said without looking at him. “I can do it one more time.”
Honey was looking between them with growing confusion. “What ishappening?It’s a negative energy release. He’s had dozens of them. Why are you all acting like—”
“Because it’s—” Sage started, her voice sharp.
“It’s fine.” Cass interrupted her and it felt mean, but he needed everything to remain calm or the pressure behind his eyes was going to become real tears and crying in the commissary was frowned upon. “It’s fine, Honey. They’re from outside. They don’t understand how the releases work. It seems more intense than it is.”
The lie tasted like porridge—like nothing pretending to be something. But Honey’s face smoothed, and Sage’s jaw locked, and Riot’s hand slowly relaxed.
“Trust me,” Cass said. To the table. To Riot. To himself. “Please.”
