I took a few steps away before pressing the phone to my ear.

We need their trust if we’re going to handle this whole thing.

If Breakthrough is to get together, if we’ll have the resources we need, and if Valkyrie’s flock is willing to divulge the tools or communication methods Clock and Win hinted at.

Just needed her trust.

“Hello?”

“What part of do not associate with other members of your team do you not understand, Antares?”

Narwhal was… pretty notoriously hard-nosed. This was apparently that. I could see Vista wincing, because she could hear the tone, even though she couldn’t hear the words.

“You’ll have to refresh my memory.”

“Capricorn. You and he were in the same place, I hear? He told me one story, I don’t think I believe him. I’m hoping you’ll be more convincing.”

I shut my eyes. What was I even supposed to say?

I caught your subordinate sleeping mostly in the nude with my teammate?

“I thought this would be about Amy Dallon,” I said, trying to deflect.

“In a way it is. Capricorn just lied to me, I think. I could dig out the truth myself, but that takes time and there are bigger things at stake today. Tell me, can we trust you?”

I opened my mouth, then shut it.

This felt like a trap. Or a trick. Or a prank… no. Not a prank.

But it felt aggressive and I felt off-balance, and I hated being off balance.

“No?” I ventured, even though I wasn’t sure why. I just felt like ‘yes’ was the wrong answer, and a delay would be worse than either.

“No?” Narwhal asked. I saw Vista flinch a bit at the tone again.

The thoughts connected. Tristan, Amy, trust. I knew what Tristan had told her and what she was getting at.

“Master–stranger protocols. I warned my team.”

“He didn’t lie about that, at least. Would you be willing to come upstairs, help us with the situation? We’ll work on your master–stranger issue while figuring out how to handle the situation.”

That—it sounded okay?

“I think so,” I said.

“Your mother will be here. We’ll invite your old and current therapists in to vet you.”

Oh. Oh fucking great. That was three people and about ten associated, individual conversations I didn’t want to have, waiting upstairs.

“Will do,” I said, though the wind had gone out of my sails, and my voice felt like it lacked any strength.

“Bring Vista, if you’re still near her. We’ll want everyone ready. The thinkers think this situation will go critical tonight. We want to be ready when it does.”

“Got it,” I said.

“Thank you,” she said, hanging up as she finished.

Leaving me with what felt like a ringing in my ear, not from her volume, but the sheer stress that I’d taken from that phone.

Fuck.