Page 26 of Flickerstate

“You don’t sound enthused.”

“I lost.”

Griffin laughs. “You weren’t going towin. But you lasted five minutes longer than any of the other newbies would’ve. I’m on to you. You know Candace asked me to join your team?”

“You’re her stepbrother. Why wouldn’t she?”

“Dear Candy is not in the habit of asking me for favors.”

“Who says you’d be doing us a favor? Maybe we were trying to do you one.”

This is empty bravado on my part, but it entertains Vik. He flashes a split-second grin.

“Cute,” Griffin says. “But seriously, it’s telling that Candace asked. When I look at you, I see strategy. I see ability. I seemoxie. You might be the team to beat, you and Candy and what’s-her-face.” He points two-fingered at his eyes and then at me. “I’m watching you.”

The joke makes my wounded arm itch. “Good to know.”

“And putting you on notice has whetted my appetite. Foodtime. You coming, man?”

“Norah wanted to talk to me,” Vik says.

“Right, mentor-transfer business. I’ll leave you to it.” Griffin claps Vik’s shoulder and strides off.

“You and Mirabel better ration his Red Bulls,” I tell Vik.

“He doesn’t even drink coffee.” Vik sounds serious, but I suspect he’s amused. “That’s just Griffin. But I’m guessing Minter’s unvarnished personality isn’t what you wanted to discuss?”

I nod. “Back in clinic, you mentioned something called ‘leaguing.’ Two-person navigation? Dr. Langmore seemed annoyed.”

His demeanor shifts from impish to intense. “She tells every class it’s impossible. The other nav instructors won’t contradict her in public.”

“Maybe they agree with her.”

“Dr. Ortega doesn’t. During his PhD, he contributed a chapter toPhilosophy of Navigationthat argues leaguing is possible in theory.”

“In theory.”

“Sure. But channeling and siphoning are real. If we can transfer and steal nav, and sharing’s possible in theory, why can’t we share in practice?”

Horses and narwhals are real, so unicorns are possible in theory, but I’ll never fulfill my bloodthirsty childhood dream of riding one into battle. I don’t say that to Vik, though. This is my opening. “Back in clinic, it sounded like you wanted to try leaguing with someone.”

Vik makes a frustrated noise. “I asked Griffin and Mirabel. They’re convinced it’s a waste of time. Langmore says it’s impossible,so it’s impossible.”

“How sad. Luckily for you, I’m willing to step in.”

Vik goes dead still. Meeting his eyes feels like having a staring contest with the sun, like his attention might burn out my retinas. “Step in.”

“I’ll league with you.”

He frowns. “You’re a nav newbie.”

“Green as grass. And your only volunteer.”

After a long moment, he nods. “It could work,” he says slowly. “You lasted six minutes against Mirabel our first day. You passed the screening. You must have some natural control. Some natural focus.”

I’m not immune to flattery. Quite the opposite. If the Academy’s best navigator wants to praise my control and focus, I’ll listen all day long. Besides, Iamcurious. Researchers talk about nav like it’s a new iPhone the universe rolled out: a neato gadget that we should figure out how to use, and whose weirder apps the nerds among us should feel free to play with, but not something whose inner workings we need to understand. That attitude is wild to me. We’re seeing the futures—plural!—and only sad philosophy adjuncts bother to ask follow-ups?

But I don’t have time to explore reality’s deep secrets. Death’s coming for me, and it’s coming for Dad faster. Even if I’m not the person best equipped to save us, I’m the only person I know who’s down to try. I can’t waste precious hours on theories. I need pure pragmatic skills, so the next time Dr. Langmore throws me up against Mirabel or Griffin or Vik himself, I’m not the one spittingblood.