“Of course, Slider. And for future reference, you need not request permission to ask a question. Asking questions is what we do here.”

“How did I get here? And why don’t I remember leaving the dungeon?”

“Ah yes. I’ll ask your indulgence in that. For security reasons only a few may know our exact location here. Some of what we build is for the Skrain, and we can’t have Crache’s enemies gaining knowledge of such things.”

Dyeawan nods genuinely, accepting that.

“I understand.”

It’s the third thing he’s lied about since they began talking. Dyeawan always knows when someone is lying to her. It’s a gift she’s possessed for as long as she can remember, and though she doesn’t fully understand how she comes by that knowledge, life in the streets of the Capitol has taught her to always trust it.

Edger was lying when we spoke of the scale of what the Planning Cadre does, especially just solving “everyday” problems. He lied when he spoke about being a poor arm of Crache able to offer her only room and board (not that it mattered; Dyeawan would agree to scrounge her meals from the garbage and sleep on the beach she saw from her window if it meant being allowed to stay here).

And he’s lying about why they don’t want her to know precisely where she is.

It’s a troubling lie, even to her, but what he’s told the truth about thus far outweighs any other concerns Dyeawan has. She knows Edger has no ulterior motives like most men in the Capitol streets who would offer her favors. He wasn’t lying about the job or its parameters; she truly is being hired to clean floors and cart deliveries.

Looking at Edger, and judging from the helper she watched polishing fixtures in the corridors, it’s not difficult to discern that the voiceless, expressionless man in front of her has a soft heart for cripples of all varieties. He’s obviously led a sheltered life, one of privilege and comfort. He’s no doubt fixated for much of that life on the unfairness of his condition.

Dyeawan has never been concerned with what is “fair” or “unfair.” She concerns herself every day with what is, and what needs to be done to survive. And if today Edger’s pity can secure her future then so be it.

So Dyeawan nods and makes her eyes wide and doe-soft and completely trusting. He can have his secrets if it means she can call this place of wonders home.

“Thank you so much, Edger,” she says, and her gratitude is sincere. “I won’t let you down.”

He replaces his serious expression with the familiar cordial smile, which seems to be his default.