Page 65 of Lost in Fire

“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. AfterHargen 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 fromsurveillance, 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?”

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