Page 10 of The Flame

A hum of noise indicated people were around, busy, but I found myself alone in the foyer. I headed for the staircase, was halfway to the second level when I met Rose descending. She was dressed in silky harem pants and a thin, full-length coat of finely spun wool, her blond hair was scraped into a bun, and she didn’t seem particularly delighted to encounter me. Then again, when had she ever?

She was my contact point for the Sisterhood, my mentor and, I suppose, my supervisor. She was also a mother of three and she was somewhat involved in a network to support abused wives. Despite myself, I held a grudging respect for Rose.

“Georga.” She didn’t offer me a smile. “I was wondering if you’d show up.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” I arched a brow. “I imagine there’s a lot of work to be done. I’d like to remain fully involved. I am an active member of the Sisterhood, after all.”

That little reminder was pertinent. I’d stolen Julian Edgar’s handprint for them. I’d brought them the candy—the truth about our rotten eggs and some other hard-hitting facts from The Smoke. I’d given them the ammunition, both literally and figuratively, to enable them to overthrow the council and instate the Sisters of Capra.

I was the spark, and the face, of this revolution. And yes, Geneva would stamp me out if I took it too far, if I challenged her authority too much, but I’d be careful. I’d play their game. And they could still get a lot of use out of me if they didn’t alienate me. We were a push and pull, a delicate balance.

Rose stood there, studying me, then reached whatever conclusion she’d been deliberating over.

“I’m pleased to hear that.” She did an about-turn and climbed back up the stairs. “We were hoping you remained committed to the Sisterhood. You’re very important to us, you know, a vital cog in our organization.”

I followed her up the stairs and to the map room, where she paused to look at me. “You’re not just an active member, Georga, you’re a significant active member.”

My nose wrinkled. “Is that like a promotion?”

“You still report to me.” She folded her arms, her body between me and the closed door, a barrier to the inner circle. “Geneva has some concerns.”

My stomach tightened. “She wants me out of the way.”

Rose shook her head. “Not at all. We want you exactly where you are, and it’s in all our interests to keep your profile high, for the cause, but there is a hierarchy that everyone adheres to. No one is exempt. Do you understand?”

I understood fully. Geneva had ordered Rose to manage me, to make sure I knew my place and stayed there. “I report to you.”

“If you have any issues, or suggestions, those come through me,” she said. “The Sisterhood isn’t a maverick organization. We don’t act for the good of a single person. Everything is discussed at the highest level and decisions are made for the good of our cause.”

“I get it,” I said. I really did. That didn’t mean I liked it.

“Excellent.” She opened the door and we entered the map room, formerly a private library that had been repurposed into our strategy hub.

A few women sat at the long tables stamped with reading lamps, some pouring over documents, others jotting down notes. I recognized some faces, but the only one I could place a name to was Mrs. Saunders, Carolyn’s mother. Huh. That meant Carolyn was also a member of the Sisterhood.

I scanned the other women milling about, disappointed when I didn’t see Geneva. I wasn’t supposed to confront her directly, and I wouldn’t, but I wanted to know what was happening with the heirs.

“Where is Geneva?” I asked Rose, making sure I sounded casually curious.

“She’s at the Foundation Hall,” Rose surprised me by answering. “She has meetings scheduled all day with the heads of the various departments and institutions. Our primary goal for the moment is to ensure we keep Capra running as normal.”

That made sense.

“We’re also moving our headquarters to the Foundation Hall.” Rose gave me a pointed look. “But most of our operational activities will be run from here.”

So that’s why she was so forthcoming with information. She wanted me to know that I’d be based here, at Berkley House. That our leaders were removing themselves from easy access.

That was not ideal.

“You’ve been allocated an iComm.” Rose ushered me over to the enormous oval table on the other side of the room, and picked out one of the iComms from the pile. “Have you ever used one?”

“No.”

She spent a minute tapping buttons on the thing, then she made me speak into the device to activate it for my voice.

Most instructions were voice-controlled.

Open new messages.

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