Zachary Rawlins - The Academy

“The Hegemony wants to come to an accommodation with the Witches,” Anastasia said acidly, her voice dripping with contempt. “They are willing to consign a percentage of humanity — that would be the majority, if you are curious — to serve as livestock for the Witches, in perpetuity, as long as they agree to Hegemony rule in Central and the cartel-controlled areas.”

Anastasia saw the disgust in Alex’s face, and seemed satisfied by it.

“What price for peace, no?”

Alex rubbed his jaw absently, staring off at a point above Anastasia’s shoulder, trying to digest it all. The Hegemony seemed more benign than the Black Sun on the face of it, and to be truthful, Anastasia’s demeanor didn’t help matters. At the same time, it would be mistake, he knew, to confuse the messenger and the message, no matter how pretty Emily was.

“That makes more sense,” Alex allowed, reluctantly. “But, still…”

Anastasia waved him off, pressing her face close to the glass, reminding him of a child entranced by the view. Alex looked down as well, but saw nothing other than the same mass of picnickers, dogs, umbrellas and coolers that had crowded the hilly green patch, since they had taken their perch in the disused office space, more than an hour before. On the table beside Anastasia, her cell phone buzzed discretely. She punched the speaker button.

“Hey boss?”

The connection was bad, tinny sounding, and it was hard to make out the voice. But the wording made it obvious that it was Renton. No one else addressed Anastasia so informally.

“You see what I see?”

Anastasia continued peering through the window at something Alex couldn’t find for himself, much to his frustration.

“Yes. What do you want me to do?”

Anastasia seemed to Alex to hesitate for a moment before she responded.

“Stay where you are. I’m going to go collect Mitsuru.”

Alex continued to look out the window for whatever had attracted their attention, seeing nothing but a crowded city park in the late afternoon.

Whatever had been planned had been planned without him — Anastasia, Margot, Renton, and Edward had left him and Eerie to watch TV, while they held a hushed conference in the hall outside the room. Alex had resented it; actually, he was still resenting it. But, on another level, he did kind of understand. He was virtually defenseless, after all, and Eerie was bat-shit crazy. It had irked him a bit, though.

Eerie hadn’t seemed slighted by being left out, but she’d been weirdly reticent all morning, hardly speaking at all, and going out of her way to avoid him. Admittedly, lodging in Anastasia’s suite for the afternoon had been awkward despite its spaciousness, but that still didn’t explain it.

On the cab ride here, Eerie had made it obvious that she was trying not to sit near him, practically insisting that Renton take the back seat instead, resulting in near-constant knowing glances from him for the whole drive. Even now, she wandered around on the other side of the vacant office, walking aimlessly from room to room, occasionally pausing to examine where the walls had been crudely torn open to allow wire stripping, or to rummage half-heartedly through the personal effects and scraps of paper that remained, abandoned in the ruins of the office furniture deemed too worthless to sell. She’d hadn’t spoken since they’d arrived, the hood of her sweatshirt pulled up, and Alex was pretty sure that it wasn’t Anastasia that she was avoiding — or, rather, that it wasn’t just Anastasia that Eerie wanted to avoid.

Alex tried to follow her stare through the glass, hoping to pick out which part of the park she was looking at. He didn’t like that Anastasia had sent him out with Margot to make that phone call last night; he hadn’t given it any thought at the time, but when he’d come back, he’d found Renton and Edward bringing a bunch of heavy duffel bags up to the room, so he knew that Anastasia had worked things out to be alone with Eerie. Whatever had happened between them, Eerie didn’t seem to want to talk to him anymore.

He snuck a look at Anastasia out of the corner of his eye — she was sort of pretty, he had to admit, in a rigid sort of way, her hair pulled tightly back in a bun, her black dress excessively formal for the occasion, frilly and fringed with ribbon. Her sober demeanor and her childish appearance were constantly at odds. When she was focused on something else, like she was now, the cell phone in the palm of her hand as she waited for a response, her gaze fixed on something below, he could pretend she was a regular teenager — a bit spoiled, maybe, and probably awkward around people, the kind of bookish girl that he usually felt a little sorry for.

Something about the idea of pitying Anastasia struck him as amusing, and he found himself grinning. Anastasia caught it in the reflection, and shot him a look that combined curiosity with annoyance, but Alex didn’t care. Lately, he’d been feeling that he was spending too much time worrying about what Anastasia thought.

It was funny, in a way. He’d always thought of himself as independent, maybe even a bit headstrong, but then things got scary. And then, all of a sudden, it became very easy to take orders, when the person giving them sounded like they knew what to do. If they were good at it, like Anastasia was, Alex worried that he might not even notice himself obeying.

“Alright.” Renton’s voice crackled through the hiss of static. “She’s parked herself. As far as I can see, we’re all clear.”

Anastasia pursed her lips for a moment, looking out the window. This time, Alex was able to follow her gaze, to a figure shaking out a red picnic blanket, not far from the near edge of the park. Mitsuru, in trainers and a white t-shirt, her eyes hidden behind overly-large sunglasses, the kind they sell in the drugstore, looking uncomfortable amidst the sun and crowds.

“Boss? You sure you want to be the one to meet her? Ed says that he’s closer…”

“No,” Anastasia said curtly into the radio. “No, I’m going.”

“But, what if this is…”

Anastasia looked angrily at the radio, as if it could convey her glare.

“If it is,” she said firmly, “then we already discussed how to deal with that. Follow the plan, Renton. Everything will be fine.”

Anastasia put the radio down on the desk top, and then sat up, brushing off her dress and looking mildly perturbed.

“Very well,” she said, gathering herself with an effort, and dispelling any trace of nervousness. “I shouldn’t be long. If things go poorly, take her,” she said, pointing at Eerie, who was still sulking at the far end of the office, “and run. Get out of the state, to a city, somewhere big. Check into a hotel, and call Alistair. He’ll bail you out.”

“Right,” Alex said, nodding.

“No, ‘What about you guys?’ No worrying over your friends, or wanting to play the hero? We are here to rescue you, after all.”

“Friends? No,” Alex said firmly. “I can’t imagine there’s anything out there more dangerous than you, Anastasia. And if there is, you can be sure that I’m not going to try and fight it.”

Anastasia shook her head, as if she had tired of tolerating his foolishness.

“What, haven’t you met Mitsuru? Don’t be so dramatic, Alex. They come worse than me, I assure you.”

Alex waited until the door shut behind her before he went back to looking out the window. Despite the big talk, he did feel nervous, and yes, a tad bit guilty. It wasn’t that he had some particular desire to risk his life, in fact, he was still scared after his last encounter with the Weir. But, the idea of watching people that he knew fighting and dying in front of him, even if he couldn’t exactly call them his friends, well, that made him very uncomfortable.