Kayla Starr awoke with the muzzle of a gun pressed against her forehead.

The figure standing at Kayla's bedside was blurred by sleep and shadows, but was undoubtedly female. Kayla smiled softly.

"Mika?" she asked.

The hand holding the gun tensed minutely. After a moment, it withdrew altogether. Kayla's smile went with it.

"Lord MacLean," Kayla greeted. She sat up stiffly, body sore and mind still chasing after her dead sister's ghost.

"At ease," Lady MacLean said. She still had the gun in her hand, now pointing at the floor rather than Kayla's head.

Kayla lay her hand flat on her knee. She kept her back straight and her eyes politely averted from Lady MacLean's face. It was not her place to question a Lord's actions, no matter how strange it was to find Sabina MacLean in her room in the middle of the night.

This was not their first meeting, although Kayla doubted the Lord would remember. Lady MacLean was the only active soldier among the five Lords of the Queen's Court, and was well-known and respected within the Amith Capil. Her genius with firearms was legendary. Mika had worshipped the woman, and was granted the honor of receiving personal training from Lord MacLean once her own talents inevitably drew the Lord's attention. Kayla was present for Mika's very first session. She remembered the brilliant smile on Mika's face with painful fondness.

Unfortunately, Mika's tutelage under Lord MacLean ended prematurely. Lord MacLean departed on an urgent mission, leaving a high-grade firearm for Mika's use and no note of her whereabouts or promise to return. Mika had worried after her absent teacher until the day she died.

"Eyes on me," Lord MacLean said.

Kayla snapped to attention. Lady MacLean raised her free hand, and signed as she spoke.

"You are in charge of Dimitri Radev's interrogation," she said. Her hands shaped,

Listen to what I sign, not what I speak.

"Yes, M'am," Kayla responded. Her mind shifted into full alert, and her downturned palm grew warm with sweat.

"What have you learned from him?" Lady MacLean asked coldly.

What do you know of the rest of his team?

"Nothing of any worth, M'am. He insists that Ira Hale is innocent, despite evidence of her crimes against the Court and Samodevia's citizens. Victor Fair, codename Shadow, is missing in the field and suspected dead." Kayla kept her discovery of Dimitri's unexpected guardian to herself. Lady MacLean was still a Lord of the Court, and as such would not greet news of Kayla withholding vital information favorably, whatever Kayla's reasons. Kayla had no good reasons to offer, besides. Nothing aside a gut feeling, and a growing disgust with the entire process of torturing a confession out of a man she had once seen as a friend.

"This visit was a waste of effort on my part, then," Lord MacLean said, sounding dissatisfied.

"I vow to increase my efforts," Kayla began.

Lord MacLean waived the words away. "It no longer matters. Report to the crematorium at sunset, and send him on his way."

Kayla's breath caught. "He is –"

"Dead, yes. A bit prematurely, but death is a traitor's due by rights," Lord MacLean said.

Kayla's eyes fell to the woman's hands, too quickly. Lord MacLean gave her a knowing look. She had been testing her, Kayla realized – sounding out her attachment to Dimitri. Kayla prepared for punishment.

Take the boy out of the capital, she read instead.

"How?" Kayla exclaimed, forgetting herself.

Lord MacLean did not falter. "Gunshot to the heart. The crystal blade could not save him."

A replacement has been arranged for the cremation ceremony, she signed. You will need to figure out the rest yourself.

Kayla nodded in acceptance. She did not know how she would accomplish the – possibly treasonous, definitely dangerous – task Lord MacLean had so casually assigned, but refusal was not an option. Kayla felt awake and aware, more present than she had been in months.

"I will leave first. I trust my visit will remain between us?" Lord MacLean said.

"Yes, M'am," Kayla responded readily.

She rose to walk the woman to the door. Lord MacLean paused there, green eyes piercing as they swept over Kayla's face and down her ruined arm.

"Visit the infirmary within the week for consultation with a specialist. That is an order."

"I completed the mandatory term of physical therapy," Kayla protested instinctively. She realized that she was being less than polite, but had no chance to speak before Lord MacLean responded.

"That is not the only kind of therapy you need," the woman said.

Her hands moved between them. Kayla's eyes darted there, then closed in embarrassment.

The gun was not loaded, Lord MacLean signed.

Kayla spent some time getting herself put together after Lord MacLean departed. Too much had happened in too brief a time, and she had not been sleeping well for weeks. For a moment, Kayla even wondered if she had dreamed the whole encounter – but no, her mind was incapable for producing such nonsense. Lord MacLean's visit was entirely too out of the ordinary to be anything but real.

The secrecy, the care with which Sabina MacLean operated was both troubling and morbidly gratifying. Kayla had worried that her dissatisfaction with the Queen's Court stemmed from her own grief and lingering trauma in the wake of her team's demise. Lord MacLean's behavior spoke of fractures within the Court, and potential treachery afoot. It alleviated fears of paranoia, and put Kayla's mind at ease of sorts.

The issue of Dimitri's false death was far more pressing than whatever political subterfuge the Court was indulging. Kayla had promised to remove the man from the capital, and intended to keep her word. However, she was not foolish enough to think that she would be able to smuggle a prisoner of Dimitri's caliber out of what was essentially a military fortress. Within the capital, even the walls had ears – along with a knife to stab one in the back, if the situation so warranted.

Therefore, assistance was crucial. Kayla went over her network of trusted colleagues in her mind, and found it woefully short. Most of the soldiers she knew well enough to trust with this kind of task were either out in the field, or dead.

Inevitably, her thoughts led her to Musser. The man had appeared genuine in his concern. More importantly, he had spoken of the Court with open criticism, thus providing Kayla with something to hold over his head in case he crossed her. It was a conscious offer of goodwill, the old-fashioned kind.

In the end, Kayla simply had no other choice.

She found Musser in the training hall, leading the same class of trainees. Kayla frowned; she saw now what she had missed the first time she inadvertently stumbled into Musser's training session. When Musser caught her eye, she nodded in acknowledgement but remained by the door, unwilling to be used as teaching material. There was very little she wanted to pass onto the new generation of Amith Capil soldiers. They were better off learning from people like Musser, who still had hope enough for the future to take up the job of preparing soldiers for the field in the first place.

Musser dismissed the class at last. He did not draw attention to Kayla's presence, but a few of the cadets still recognized her and sent greetings her way. The young cadet Kayla had caught training past curfew seemed inclined to seek her out; Kayla avoided her eyes and focused her attention entirely on Musser, as to prevent any and all attempts at friendliness.

"Glad to see you," Musser greeted. He was busying rolling up the practice mats, a task that would normally fall to the cadets who had used them during class. It worked well as a tactic to stall for time at present. Kayla helped stack the practice blades, discarding a few that had fractures or loose handles in the process.

"All clear," Musser said. The last of the cadets was long gone, and the mats were all cleared up. The man patted his hands free from dust and sent a distorted grin Kayla's way. "Got time for a bite at the Coin?"

"Sure," Kayla said. She picked out one of the blades she had set aside and handed it to Musser, eyes intent on his face. "There's something I want to show you. See the fracture near the hilt? It goes deeper than it looks."

She tapped her fingers over the blade in a rhythm. Spark, she spelled, then, allow. It was a cruder way to communicate than hand signals, but it got the job done in a pinch.

Musser seemed to understand. His expression didn't change, but he placed his hand over Kayla's where it rested over the hilt when he said, "Sure, let's have a look."

Kayla took that as permission. She let her Spark ignite in her chest, and reached for Musser's mind.

Kayla's ability often left people unsettled. No one liked the idea of having their thoughts seen, their innermost mind exposed in all its unfiltered glory for the world to judge. Kayla was in fact not capable of the kind of intrusion most men feared – she could not comb through minds freely, and required physical touch and conscious permission to accomplish any kind of information transfer. There was however very little value to be found in attempting to assuage people's fears. Those who learned of Kayla's Spark inevitably thought of Lady Kiku, who had gained fame during the War for garnering crucial information from key enemy figures – and then forcing their deaths at their own hands, all from miles away. Lady Kiku possessed a vastly different sort of psychic ability, but very few cared to understand the difference.

Musser was a Numb. He did not possess a Spark, but appeared to hold no prejudice against those who did either, which was becoming an increasingly rare sight within the troops. Kayla told the man what she could of her task, hiding Lord MacLean's involvement. Musser listened intently. He laughed at the end, and said in Kayla's mind,

"Well, I'm already providing the dummy body on her Lordship's bequest, but sure, I can lend a hand with smugglin' the boy out of town, too."

"Good eye," the man said out loud, his booming voice covering Kayla's sigh of relief. "This would've snapped, taken someone's eye out."

"Do you have a plan in mind?" Kayla asked.

"In matter of fact, I think I know just the person to help," Musser answered.

He let the blade go. "Rin, inside!" he shouted.

Kayla almost dropped the sword.

The training hall's doors parted open. Rin stuck her face inside, cheeks red with embarrassment. Musser laughed and bid her come closer.

"You knew she was there?" Kayla hissed under her breath.

"Suspected. The girl wanted to talk with you, and she's a stubborn one – don't tell me you didn't notice," Musser replied.

Kayla frowned in displeasure. "Say what you want to say. Don't circle around on my account," she snapped.

"You're in your head, and you're missing crucial information because of it. It's gonna get you dead if you keep it up," Musser said promptly.

Kayla's frown deepened. She didn't have time to respond before Rin was within hearing distance, and didn't know what to say besides. The man was right.

Rin bowed deeply, gushing her greetings all in one breath. "I am so sorry," the girl began.

"Save it. Remember that friend of yours, the one with the displacement Spark? Tell Miss Starr about it," Musser bid.

Rin jerked up. Her face visibly brightened, mouth tugging into a besotted smile. Kayla snorted in her heart. Friend, her ass. The girl was obviously in love with whoever it was Musser had in mind.

"His name is Ian. He was recruited two years ago – I just know he's already on a team, his gift is amazing, and he is so smart and kind! We grew up together. I have been searching for him ever since I arrived, but I have not had any luck. But – but Miss Starr said that new cadets rarely get sent out from the capital. So he should be here, right? Will, will Miss Starr help me look?"

Rin turned hopeful eyes to Kayla. Kayla, in turn, had to restrain the desire to stomp on Musser's foot in petty vengeance for being subjected to such sappy ramblings.

"Sure. Tell me a bit about Ian's Spark," Kayla said.

"He can take things from one place to another, in seconds! It used to be only small things, and very short distances, but he got better at it as he got older. Once, he took me to a forest we'd never seen before! But there was this strange spider staring at us, and we got scared, so he took us back home," Rin said, all in one breath.

Teleportation. Kayla's pulse jumped, but she maintained a calm expression, unwilling to make Rin suspicious and therefore expose the girl to more of their plan than she needed to know. "That is indeed an impressive ability. I will inquire about him, and let you know what I find."

"He is with Zero," Musser said.

Kayla turned to him with barely concealed alarm. "You are certain?" she asked after she got her instinctive response under control.

Musser nodded. His smile slipped from his scarred face. "Very. All the new Sparks go to Zero."

Kayla had noticed the absence of Sparks in Musser's class. Those with a Spark could feel others like them – there was a slight pull, an unconscious camaraderie that only deepened Numbs' distrust against them. Kayla had not felt a kindred soul for a long time, she realized.

"Since when?" Kayla asked softly.

"Two, three years ago? It used to be that half would go to us, then that dwindled to a quarter, and now – here we are," Musser sighed.

"Is Zero not a good place to be?" Rin asked tentatively. The joy in her face was slowly leeching away to worry.

"That's not it," Kayla lied. "Zero simply operates in a different hierarchy, so it would require a little more digging to find your friend."

"Oh. If I can be of any help, please, let me know," Rin said. She did not sound entirely convinced, but seemed willing enough to put her faith in Kayla and Musser. This would be a good lesson for her not to trust so easily, if nothing else.

Now, how the hell was Kayla to find Rin's friend in Zero's ranks, with Dimitri's life ticking to an end in half a day's time?

"Describe Ian for me," Kayla bid at last.

Rin's eyes lit up. Kayla prepared herself to sift through a lengthy, lovelorn description of questionable accuracy.