As the weeks passed by, Stone reported to Romani that his special group were keeping their ears and eyes peeled, but that any would-be defectors were lying low since Donny’s execution. They weren’t certain Romani bought the story, but he hadn’t found anything to convince him otherwise, and for the meantime, he seemed content with the status update. Meanwhile, Sloan had kept her mouth shut about everything.
She had been busy avoiding Edward—who was consistently trying to get her to come into the Infirmary. He wanted to check on her—on it—by running tests. But she refused. Tests led to confirmation, led to documentation, led to something that could be used against her. So she busied herself with West in the shooting range. He didn’t entirely understand her revitalized interest in the range, insisting she was already one of his best marksmen, but he had been happy nonetheless to spend time with her.
She had avoided sparring and any kind of fighting—just because she wasn’t accepting of the news didn’t make her an idiot. Once again, Elijah responded well to her newfound pacifism, believing it to be a mark of happiness and growth. She let him think that but the reality was that she was going stir crazy without her usual training. She hadn’t let him touch her in weeks, not so much as a hug, but for some reason, he still persevered, certain she could be worn down.
Avoiding Jared had been the hardest part. He was insistent on seeing her or speaking to her and it took everything she had to not break and tell him the truth. She couldn’t tell him without telling the Order—and whoever else listened in to every word uttered in these halls. She knew her body was yet to change, she still had her taut abs and slender frame—but Jared knew her shape better than she did. She was paranoid that he, being so in tune with her body, would miraculously figure it out.
The stress of it all just made her want to spar more . . .
So, she had taken to spending all of her time with the Others, mainly Sava and Jo. Their lives distracted her from her own—and Sloan couldn’t deny that they shared a bond in knowing the truth about the Academy. When they finally received word from Stone that they would be going back on excursion, there was a flurry of both excitement and concern amongst the group. The only reason they would be called back out was if Stone needed to tell them all something in a safe place. If that didn’t worry her enough, knowing that she would need to abstain from sparring again would draw more unwanted attention from the Others.
Maybe it’s time to visit Edward.
He had sworn to not document a thing—nothing would be put in her file regarding this visit. He had booked her into a room under a different name and had ensured the floor was abandoned before shuffling her into the examination area unseen. She appreciated his understanding—more than she could express.
“It will only take a few minutes. Just try to relax,” Edward said, sitting opposite her. She sat on the white-sheeted bed, drumming her fingers nervously.
Unable to wait in silence, she asked, “Is Jo packing for you two?” hoping to distract herself.
“I hope not—my betrothed wouldn’t take too kindly to Jo being in our living quarters,” Edward laughed.
“I thought . . .” Sloan began, but realized she didn’t know what to say. She had thought Jo was with Edward. They were always together, whispering, laughing or sharing moments.
“It’s complicated.” He shrugged. “Jo and I are both betrothed to people who don’t want to be with us as much as we don’t want to be with them. It happens, but that’s what Nuptia decided.”
She thought about her own experience with the Betrothal Calling and couldn’t help but sympathize. “I know how you feel . . . Being apart from the one you love can kill you.”
She immediately regretted her candor—Edward was a good friend, but she didn’t know how he would handle her inference that she still loved Jared when she was supposed to be devoted to Elijah.
He studied her thoughtfully. “Missing Dawson?”
She shrugged, shaking her head. “I’m just saying the Calling messes up people’s lives,” she pressed on before he had any opportunity to question her. “How much longer is this going to take?”
Edward spun on his swivel chair, flicking buttons on a chrome box until a holographic display of codes appeared against the white wall beside him. “We should be just about good to go . . . Yep, it says it right here . . .” he rambled, scanning over the words and images.
She stood up. Her heart was racing and she wished she could read the machine’s output just so she could know what he was about to say. He spun back around, nodding his head. “About nine weeks in.”
Sloan shook her head, backing away from the truth he had to offer her. “No.” The single word—a refusal to accept this—fell from her mouth. Edward stood.
“Sloan, it’s going to be just fine. You can tell the group; we’ve got your back,” he offered, smiling supportively.
“No—I cannot tell the group. I can’t fight like this, I can’t protect myself . . .” she rambled, grabbing the bed to steady herself. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind. This was bad—really bad.
“The group can protect you.”
Sloan’s hands curled into frustrated fists. “How many times do I have to tell you I am not telling the group?”
He shook his head, confused at her anger. “Well, you should at least talk it over with Elijah.”
“Edward! Just stop.”
At her fury he was quiet. And he knew. She could see it in his eyes as he put the pieces together—he knew what she had done. He looked downward and back up to her. “Oh.”
Sloan sat on the edge of the sofa, watching Elijah make himself lunch in the cabin kitchen. She had begun to view every object in the room as a tool he could use to kill her with if she told him the truth. She wasn’t stupid—she knew she couldn’t hide this forever, but she also knew she couldn’t fight without risking serious damage to herself. She envisioned scenario after scenario; she contemplated telling him in front of Edward. Sure, she thought, add insult to injury by humiliating him in front of someone. She thought about talking to Stone, but she could picture his face, she could imagine the look of disappointment in his eyes. He had gone out of his way to ensure her indiscretion had been kept a secret and now it turned out she would be the reason that secret came to light.
“What?” Elijah’s voice startled her—he was watching her watch him.
“Nothing,” she answered quickly, forcing herself to look away from him. She thought about the truth coming out, how it would prove she had been dishonorable in her union, and what punishment would be exacted for that. She knew she wasn’t the only one—Edward and Jo were betrothed to other people—but that didn’t really matter now. They weren’t in a situation where the Order could prove their infidelity.
She grew frustrated with her thoughts. She hadn’t ever had that kind of relationship with Elijah! She had only ever been with Jared and she had told everyone to not try to separate them. She had told everyone that she loved him still, that they were meant to stay together . . . despite all their issues. She sat back on the sofa. This was a mess—her life was a mess. She had already imagined telling Jared and while she knew he would be happy, he would also probably do something crazy. Something to ensure the Order reinstated their relationship—what, though? Would he challenge Elijah to another Fight Night, would he try to kill him, get rid of him somehow?
She couldn’t let that happen.
What if Jared tried to keep her at the Academy? She couldn’t abandon the Others now—even if she wanted to, which she didn’t, she was certain they wouldn’t allow it. She knew too much and would be too great a threat to their mission. And yet, they insisted Jared couldn’t come into the fold, that in ways he didn’t even know, he was too ingrained in the Academy regime.
A knock on their door pulled her from her thoughts. It swung open, revealing Joss. He peeked his head in. “Stone wants us out there in five.”
“None of you will make it to Departing Ceremonies.” Stone’s words fell over the group heavily. What? Sloan looked around, wondering if anyone had any insight into what their general had just announced, but the group was stirring with whispers, looking entirely perplexed.
“Romani wants the senior class to deploy in several weeks,” he continued, looking over them with somber eyes. What—why? Sloan’s mind raced. Deploy? She couldn’t deploy—she couldn’t even fight. Suddenly, Elijah was holding her hand. She wanted to pull away but then she heard someone crying, people behind her arguing—friends comforting one another. They were all afraid.
Stone raised his hands, willing them to settle down. “This obviously brings forward our timeline drastically—once you’re gone there’s no getting back to the Academy. We have one chance to make our move. Monday.”
Another flurry of noise—of tears and whispers, of terror and excitement. This would be their last weekend here.
“Skyshell Aviation—that’s you, Daniels, even if you’re a bit out of practice. Hook, Hart, Stevenson, Lane, Strong, Burke and Birch—you’re our pilots. We will need you to man eight Odyssey Skyshells. You’ll only have a few days to get comfortable with the logistics of our largest fleet.
“Kane, where are you? Oh, there. Edward, Louis, Thorpe and Ramsey, you’re our medical team. You’ll need to spread out amongst the Skyshells—we cannot risk losing you in case any who board are wounded. Pick a pilot and team up.
“Radcliffe.” Stone said her name, jolting her eyes up to him. “You, Chase and Joss are our best shots. We need you to get to the armory, load up and take sniper positions. Corbin and Banks—you watch their backs while they keep the sentries at bay when the kids are being loaded up.”
Sloan nodded—happy to know she would be manning rifles on the day, but angered to hear Chase would be at her side. Will you even be involved in this? she thought, having temporarily forgotten that she didn’t actually have a plan to address her situation.
“The rest of you,” Stone carried on. “There are 204 children, eight pilots, three snipers, two watch-guards and thirty of you soldiers. You will each need to get six or seven kids into the hangars. You will meet heavy fire and strong resistance. Your main priority is boarding the children—trust the snipers to keep the sentries off you.”
Elijah cleared his throat, taking the floor. “What about the gate and our chips? It will incapacitate all of us, even from within a Skyshell.”
Stone nodded, rubbing his own forearm. “Donny helped me with something—before . . . It’s his way of still being with us. I can bring down the power for ten, maybe fifteen minutes.”
Fifteen minutes? To get in position, grab and board 204 screaming children, and get out of here? Sloan didn’t need to voice what they were all thinking—the odds were not in their favor.
Sava stood, crossing her arms. “Sir, where will you be?”
Stone tilted his head up, and, with a small shrug of his shoulder, answered, “I already told you—someone has to provide the distraction.”
They spent the rest of the excursion coordinating, hashing out the details of their plan. Sloan was thankful for the distraction that planning gave her, but couldn’t keep her mind from wandering back to its true concern every so often. If everything did go according to Stone’s plan—she would be out of here soon. What about this situation you have landed yourself in? She knew that whether she was here or on the mainland—it wouldn’t change her situation. She couldn’t abandon the Others now—she had to be there when it all went down.
What about Jared? Would she abandon him—leave him in this place, with the enemy? Would he be safe here—as Romani’s nephew, with his supposedly influential family? Would those factors protect him from being drilled by the Order due to his love for Sloan? Was it better if he didn’t know about her news?
She needed answers—and she knew only one person whom she could speak to. She knocked on Stone’s door, waiting for a response. It was late and the majority of the students were getting into bed, knowing they had an early start back to the Academy in the morning.
With a noisy creak, the door opened. Stone had reading glasses on and a book in one hand—she didn’t think she had ever seen him look so normal . . .
“Sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to interrupt your—er—downtime.”
He took his glasses off, smiling softly. “No, it’s fine, come in.” He stepped aside, allowing her entrance. He closed the door and gestured to a chair by the fire. She took a seat and watched as he dragged another chair over from his dining table. He sat in front of her—watching her expectantly.
“I need to speak to you about something . . .” she began tentatively.
He half-smiled. “I figured as much.” She tried to smile back but couldn’t. This was going to be the most disappointed he had ever been in her. She had messed up—she had put her role in his mission at risk. She had hurt Elijah—whom Stone doted on—and all over her failure to follow his direct orders in the first place. She took a slow breath.
“I messed up, sir,” she whispered, forcing herself to look into his grey eyes. He waited, a look of concern growing in his face.
“I . . .” She didn’t know how to say it—how to admit it. She had never said the truth aloud, never uttered that word that described the state she was now in. She took a deep breath. Her hands were shaking.
“I’m pregnant.”
The silence seemed to last a lifetime. He kept his eyes on her, his face giving nothing away. She knew it—she had ruined his image of her. She had disappointed him. Finally, he leaned forward in his seat. “Does Jared know?”
Of course he knows it’s Jared’s.
She shook her head. “No.” Her voice sounded so small, barely reaching across the small space between them.
And then he stood, grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet. And before she could understand why, his arms were around her, embracing her in a strong hug. He held her for the longest time and she felt, momentarily, as if everything was better. When he finally let her go, he squeezed her hand.
“What are you going to do?”
At his words, she fell back into her seat. “I don’t know . . . I can’t tell Elijah, I can’t tell Jared and then just leave, and I can’t not tell him either. I’m so—” She hesitated, for her sentiment was so foreign to her.
“I’m so afraid,” she finally admitted.
He nodded. “Sloan, you can’t stay here—your life would be in danger. Because even if I told you to back out of the mission, you know Elijah won’t, and when they see he’s a defector—they will come for you. In the same breath, I cannot risk having Jared know the truth and ruin everything.”
She nodded, chewing her lip. What were her options then? Everything seemed utterly hopeless.
Stone ran a hand over the back of his neck, taking a deep breath. “If you can find him tomorrow, when everything happens, you have fifteen minutes to get him on board. Whether you spend those fifteen minutes helping us fight the sentries off or spend them finding him—that’s up to you.”