Still, now that I have had time to consider, why would Roth call Council? He’s not luminary yet. Did it have something to do with the plane crash? Maybe it has something to do with the shadow knight who died in New York a month ago, his soul stolen right out of his body. It is clear darklings are getting stronger and bolder. The only way to fight them is to ferry lost souls into Spirit, a gift the Valryn once possessed but lost. Now the only thing we can do is protect as many humans as possible.

It’s getting harder.

Soon it will be impossible.

Those of us who still believe in Charon think he’ll send our salvation—the Eurydice, the only one who is granted the power to summon the Adamantine Gates and ferry souls into Spirit to heal and reincarnate. It’s also our job to support and train her.

I know I won’t have answers unless I haul Roth around in my Jeep.

As bad as it’ll be, I’ll suffer through it to attend Council.

“When should I expect him?” I’m proud of how steady my voice is—all business—even if I want to spit blood every time I hear Roth’s name.

“Friday.”

“So soon?”

“I hope you don’t have plans.”

I know just as well as anyone that a shadow knight’s first obligation is to the Order; everything else in life comes second. There is no room for negotiations. My father shows this on a daily basis, and my mother learned it the hard way. Still, the simple dismissal of my life outside the Compound makes my blood boil. I may not care that much about school, but it’s still part of who I am.

“Of course not, Elite Cain. I just did not expect to serve so soon.”

Cain offers the same splintered smile. I always imagine him as a doll—his features painted in lifelike color but his expression hollow. “Then this is an honor.”

I place my fist to my chest and bow my head in acceptance of his task, but it feels like poison in my veins.

Elite Cain turns, and for a moment, I’m left with a clear view of my father. I haven’t seen him in about three days, so it makes sense that the first thing out of his mouth would be criticism.

“Your footwork was slow,” he advises.

I should hold my tongue, especially in front of Elite Cain, but I can’t. “I’m not looking for your approval.”

I haven’t made any attempt to get along with my father recently. I’m never good enough for him, so I’ve stopped trying.