Page 170 of Carousel

“Apparently.”

Meg makes for the door, at the same time that Ephraine appears. His muscles make him almost wide enough to be the door.

Drake glances at me. I try not to glance at him.

Get into her head.

Is that what he will try to do? He should know it’s a losing battle. I don’t care about our magic stabilising, whatever that means. I don’t care about anything now but getting home with Cosmer.

I touch the ribbon in my hair, making sure it’s still in place, before I start walking. Ephraine stands aside to let us enter.

It’s a different layout. Two high-backed chairs have been placed side by side on the wooden platform. The other first officers are seated around the perimeter. Meg takes the empty seat that has been left for her.

I stare at the chairs. The way they have an audience. I can’t help but think they look like two thrones.

Oh, the irony.

Drake steps up onto the platform, then offers me his hand to help me up.

As there are a lot of eyes on us, I take it.

We fill our seats – Drake on the right, and me on the left.

“Lights on or off?” Dezeeves asks.

“On,” we say at the same time.

Oh. I’m going to hate every minute of this.

“We have a tank,” Dezeeves says, indicating a white balloon on a cart. “Would you prefer to proceed with osimidite, or without it?”

“Without it,” I say instantly. “Of course.”

Dezeeves nods. “I had thought that would be your answer, Ara, but I still wanted to check. I hope you will forgive us for using the osimidite on you yesterday. But learning that particular lesson about Rhavna can be rather upsetting for our prisoners. For those who have lived in the Palace, and those who have not.”

I do nothing but glare at him.

“Now, let us continue the conversation where we left off. We enjoyed hearing about your childhood in the Palace, Ara, and your childhood in the Mechanical City, Drake.”

My first thought is, he told them where he was from?

Then again, Dezeeves already did seem to know who Drake was, right when we first met him.

“And thank you, Drake, for generally giving us the information we required of you, when prompted.”

Prompted. So that’s what they’re calling being punched in the face by Ephraine.

“Now, we will move onto more formative years. You will see that for this session we have joined you together. I am afraid, with the ambush yesterday, that we do require both of your Integrations to be expedited.”

He locks his fingers together thoughtfully.

“Drake, we will start with you. When was it that you would say your childhood ended?”

“When I went to war,” he replies.

“And how old were you?”

“Seventeen.”