Page 54 of FoolSilver
“I’ll use as many as I want.”
“Read more. You’ll bore Max otherwise. Plenty of books available.”
Caspian’s jaw tightened. “Fuck off, vamp. We’re still in the middle of a session.”
“Session’s over.” Nikolai turned from the wall, the amusement gone, replaced by something more serious. “Intel from the Haven just came in.” He held out a hand. “Let’s go, Max.”
Chapter 21
Max
Nikolai and Caspian bickered the entire way.
“Could’ve sent a messenger,” Caspian said.
“A messenger wouldn’t have gotten things done,” Nikolai said.
“A messenger wouldn’t have interrupted a training session.”
“Your training session wasn’t going anywhere productive anyway.”
“That is not the fucking?—”
“It’s precisely the fucking point.”
By the time Greymantle came into view, I had to stop myself from sprinting ahead of them both.
The building sat closest to the south gate, a deliberate positioning. If a hit came, if the walls were breached, the Covenant’s senior command would be at the front, not sheltered at the back. The academy sat in the rear, where cadets trained and civilians sheltered, and the top officers stood between them and whatever came through the gate. The strong shouldered the burden first. The Spartans had run the same philosophy at the outpost.
Nikolai led us down a staircase into the underground war room.
The ambient noise of the compound died the moment you descended—cut clean, like a door closing. Soundproofed walls and warded steel. The Stormglass sconces threw a cool blue-white light across the long oak table that ran the full length of the room, its cushioned chairs already occupied by the high-ranking officers. At the far end, a three-dimensional tactical map of North America rose from the table’s surface, colored pins marking positions, borders, and points of interest across all four kingdoms. The space felt fortified even standing in it, the ceiling low and reinforced. Every line of it was built to contain what mattered.
Aelindor held the head of the table. The Fae woman sat to his left—too close, her voice low at his ear, and he listened with his head inclined. The sight put a cold knot in my chest that I had no business feeling.
Was she his lover? An old flame rekindled now that she was back in the capital? Was that why he’d gone cold toward me after the clearing?
He turned his head, his winter-blue gaze crossing the room and finding mine.
I looked away first.
Frost materialized at my elbow and guided me to stand along the wall with the other lower-ranking officers and aides. Unlike Greyhold, where every eye had tracked me the second I walked in, the generals and commanders here were deep in their own conversations. I was just another body filing in behind the heirs.
I liked the anonymity more than I could say.
No coffee and no donuts. It wasn’t that kind of briefing.
Frost had walked me through the command structure on the ride back: four generals, one per army, each reporting to their heir. I’d filed the names and faces as he gave them, matching them to the uniforms I could now read on sight.
Aelindor raised a fist. The room settled instantly.
“Before we begin.” His voice was flat and even, the quiet of someone who never needed to raise it. “Cadet Max Morning’s presence here—her identity, her abilities, her value to the Covenant—doesn’t leave these walls. Not a word.”
He let them all hear it.
“Some of you read yesterday’s summary on the eastern train. An archdemon led the assault. Cadet Max went to the roof against orders, intercepted a Coldiron-tipped arrow mid-flight, and turned it on the target. She saved my life.”
The room absorbed it in silence.
