“Not that I remember?” I gave Kinsley a questioning look, struggling to stay indifferent despite the rising internal panic.

Why the fuck was Miles here? He had no direct connection to the adventurer’s guild, at least as far as I knew. It was possible that he was one of the people they’d talked to, as part of their investigation. But it felt like more than that.

“Matt, this is Miles. He assisted with the raid on region three.” Kinsley said quickly, eyes darting back and forth. She probably felt ambushed. Couldn’t blame her, really, as I felt similarly. Him being here, choosing a seat next to us? None of it was coincidence. The question was whether this was a coordinated attack or a fishing expedition.

We’d had ample time to get our stories straight over the last few days. If it was just a question of sticking to them, that wouldn’t be a problem. But this was Miles, someone I knew from experience, had a hell of an eye for detail.

Doing my best Nick impression, I gave Miles a rueful smile and shook his hand. “Ah. From what I’ve heard, you did us trapped civvies a serious favor. They were kidnapping Users from region two, right?”

Miles waved away the compliment, his eyes twinkling. “Nah. All I did was take down some mercenaries. Your guild mate did most of the heavy lifting.” Instead of drilling down on that, like I expected, Miles was suddenly distracted, glancing across the room, lighthearted expression dimming. I followed his gaze to where a group of people were finding their seats. I didn’t recognize any of them individually, but their corporate call-center aesthetic immediately called to mind the recruiting table at the open forum, luring people in with barbecue.

“LRE.” I leaned towards Kinsley. “Surprised the adventurer’s guild was willing to pull them into this. Whatever this is.

“That’s not even the bottom of the barrel. Look three rows below them” Miles was careful not to point, or even look directly at them. I followed suit. The group was dressed in all black, and seemed to have adopted something of a viking aesthetic, complete with blue face-paint.

“Aesir.” Kinsley scowled.

“What’s their deal?” I asked.

“Mostly ex-cons. Supposedly targeting and robbing Users from the jump,” Miles said, his voice cold and analytical. For the moment, the veil of congeniality faded away, and I could see the hardened operator. “Nothing definitive, though. Just rumors. Probably why they weren’t blacklisted. Say,” he leaned toward me innocently, “You’re the boy who lived, right?”

Yeah. He knew exactly who I was. I groaned dramatically. “Please tell me people aren’t calling me that.”

“Relax. Came up with it all on my lonesome.” Miles grinned. I couldn’t help but marvel at how good he was at presenting a non-threatening air. There was none of the suppressed danger I’d felt from him during the transposition. If this were my first impression, I’d probably suspect him of something— trying to ingratiate himself to the Merchant’s guild, perhaps, or working some sort of angle, but it’d be far harder to make the connections I’d made during the transposition with the image he was presenting now.

“Still. It’s a hell of a thing you did.” Miles spoke casually, as if he was talking about the weather. “I imagine most people are still too relieved that it happened it to question how it happened, exactly.”

Over-explaining anything at this point would be a dead giveaway that I was either nervous, or trying to curry favor. I smiled again. “I appreciate that you helped fortify our region…”

“But you don’t know me.” Miles finished, almost sheepish at the admonition. “Of course.”

The following silence dragged out for what felt like an eternity. I knew what he was doing. Using a break in the conversation to create discomfort and make the other person volunteer information they wouldn’t otherwise. Normally, I’d let it backfire. Hold my silence. But “winning,” this interaction wouldn’t help me. I needed to seem normal.

“Any clue why we’re all here?” I asked.

“Yes.” Miles stretched his legs out, draping his hands over his knees. “Unfortunately, my lips are sealed. The big man in charge has sworn me to secrecy. But given the timing, you can probably guess the topic.”

“The Ordinator.” I said glumly.

“Natural that anyone in the merchant’s guild inner circle would be quick on connecting the dots.” He raised an eyebrow. “Though you don’t seem thrilled by the idea.”

“This feels like an intentional distraction.”

“How so?”

I struggled for a moment, deciding how much to reveal or hold back. Talking about Myrddin felt like an obvious tell, but not talking about him when Miles knew he was associated with us would be just as much of a giveaway. Eventually, I shook my head. “The Overseer revealed himself as the common enemy to end all common enemies. When that happens, it’s natural to overlook differences and consolidate power—not all of us, but most, allying together to ensure we were prepared as possible for the next event.”

Miles studied his nails. They were buffed and trimmed to perfection, gleaming in the top-down lighting of the conference room. Had to wonder if he’d done them himself or found a salon crazy enough to open days after the transposition. “You’re ignoring something crucial.”

“The event being competitive?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not certain that it was.”

“Interesting.”

“Obviously, I can’t speak to what it was really like. And I don’t mean to diminish your experience, or the experience of every other User out there busting their asses—“

Miles interrupted, “The hedging isn’t necessary. Your life was on the line too. Every civilian was dangling off a cliff.”

I propped my chin on a fist. “Think about it. Region fourteen’s receptacle was nearly complete. From what I’ve heard, the other regions that failed fortification were similarly close. They may have shorted us intentionally, but given the chaos, and the likelihood that region three wasn’t the only region—or individual Users for that matter—to hoard materials given the illuminating lux’s inherent value…”

“Ah.” Miles smiled thoughtfully. “Given the variables, If they intentionally shorted the supply, you’ve postulated the rate of failed fortifications would have been far higher.”

“Significantly. Closer to thirty to forty percent.” I paused. Something about the way he was filling in the gaps struck me as rote. My uneasiness mounted, as I realized Miles had already reached this conclusion. He just wanted to hear me say it. “My guess? They gave us exactly what we needed for each region to fortify. Probably more.”

“And how does Myrddin factor in?”

There it was. The trap. Testing how much we knew. Miles hadn’t asked about the Ordinator. He asked about Myrddin. There was nothing in the Overseer’s wrap-up that connected Myrddin to the Adventurer’s guild for anyone but the Adventurer’s Guild themselves. If I answered as if he’d ask about the Ordinator, he’d have me. If my response was too oblivious given the context of the discussion, he’d have me.

Clever.

I met his eye, unflinching. “You think Myrddin’s the Ordinator?”

“It’s looking that way.” Miles held my gaze, then glanced over at Kinsley. “I already know how she feels about him. If things hadn’t come out so publicly, I almost wonder if they would have come out at all. But now, I’m curious about your experiences.”

“We didn’t talk much.”

“With a guild that small?”

Kinsley interjected. “The Merchant’s guild had a shaky start. Several individuals with differing purposes who came together out of necessity. Myrddin wasn’t stupid, but he was generally the action guy. Off doing his own thing unless we needed him.” I appreciated the break. Holding a conversation with Miles under these circumstances was like fighting a barbed wall. There wasn’t much I could do to throw him off balance, and the chance of slipping up grew higher the longer we spoke.

“Which makes you the, what, tactician?” Miles pointed at me.

“More strategist, really.”

“So, even if your interaction was brief, you must have had a read on him. One strategist to another.”

I rolled my eyes. Another veiled attempt to gain rapport.

“I’ll prove it to you.” Miles said, crossing one leg over another. “An average person would be sweating right now, worried about being outcast due to their association with a person who may have caused the deaths of a sizable portion of the population, but you’re cold, calm, and collected. Reason being, you’ve equalized the collateral and insulated yourselves as a byproduct. You had a bad apple, publicly renounced him, then managed to save a region of roughly the same size in a coincidentally dramatic manner that naturally endeared others.” He hunched, deep in thought. “Now, I’m not confident why exactly you went for the Hail Mary. Maybe it was to help the adventurer’s guild. Perhaps it was because you already had an inkling that Myrddin’s off-book activities would require something big to sway the court of public opinion in your favor. If the latter is true, you’re a bastard, but brilliant nonetheless.”

“Any chance you’re arriving at the point soon?” I asked.

“The point is, I’m able to piece that together from my brief interaction with you, a handful of accounts from people who interacted with you before the event, and paying attention. So, you must have had some sort of read on Myrddin. Even if the communication between the two of you was limited. And I’m not asking for charity here. Quid pro quo. If you help me out, I’ll tell you the working theory.

It wasn’t just about painting a connection between us, though he’d done that well. Miles was flexing. Trying to make me feel as if he’d already figured everything out, and he was just looking to corroborate what he already knew.

Classic cop tactic.

“If you’re asking if he seemed like the kind of person capable of committing an atrocity—“

“I’m not. Just your basic read.”

Why was he hammering on this point? Why did my opinion on Myrddin matter to him? He didn’t know me from Adam. The only justification I could think of was that he’d gotten wind how I’d handled the situation with the Adventurer’s Guild and the rogue SWAT officer at the open forum. But if they’d been willing to discuss that with him, he was in this deep.

There had to be something I was missing. Miles had felt somewhat responsible for Myrddin’s downfall, misattributed the conflict with the probationary Adventurer’s Guild, offered to advocate for me at the receptacle, intimidated the members of Roderick’s Lodge who’d wanted to kill me right then and there. Why the sudden switch?

“Kinsley was being forthright when she said that Myrddin kept to himself. He was stingy with any details on his class or outside activities. Generally conflict averse.” When Miles raised an eyebrow, I continued. “Got the feeling it wasn’t for any principled or moral reason, but because he wanted to avoid drawing attention to the Merchant’s Guild, and by proxy, himself.”

“You didn’t like him.” Miles read between the lines.

“I don’t like most people. Doesn’t mean much.”

Tyler passed by us, taking a seat beside Miles. Miles slapped him on the back and leaned in to whisper something, to which Tyler glanced at me and nodded. He looked mostly the same as when I’d seen him last, with one notable exception. A thick eye-patch that covered his right eye. The skin around the patch looked inflamed, veins and blood vessels standing out around the affected area.

Tyler leaned forward and smiled apologetically. “Kinsley told me you intend to raise your level as quickly as possible to catch up once you’re up and around.”

“Just trying to cover lost ground.” I answered slowly.

“We’re happy to assist. But recent revelations have changed the landscape. If you’re willing, we’d like to split your time,” Tyler said.

“Kind of hard to agree to anything with all the cloak and dagger going around,” I muttered

“Also, Matt does have a region to manage,” Kinsley added.

Tyler nodded, understanding. “You have a full plate. It’s understandable you wouldn’t agree to anything without knowing why. But I have a feeling, once everything’s laid out, you’ll want to be involved.” Tyler gave Miles a flat look, and the smaller man studied a distant wall innocently. “Also, I apologize for our friend’s unnecessary drop-in. Your name came up on the short-list for a group we’re putting together. I put in a good word, but Miles wanted to evaluate you himself.”

I stuck a thumb at Miles. “He’s assisting?”

Tyler shook his head. “Taking lead. We’ve gotten to know each other quite well over the last few days. I’m—“ He stopped himself, reaching up towards his eyepatch with a grunt. There was a tick in my mind, like emulation telling me he was using a skill, but it wasn’t fully firing off. The dry click of an empty revolver, rotating cylinders. “I’ll need to focus on administrative matters. Miles is better suited for this sort of thing, regardless.

It reminded me of something I’d almost forgotten in the chaos.

Tyler had nearly died in an ambush that ended in Sara sacrificing her arm to save him. But he’d lost an eye. Obviously, their healer had managed to regenerate it, as he’d been back to normal the last time I saw him. However, Talia had suspected the lizards had eaten something imbued with divine energy and infected Tyler with it, to unknown long-term effect.

Something clicked in my mind. That was probably how the gods had justified spoofing his ability, giving him a false negative at a key moment. By compromising it completely, pulling out all the stops to kill me earlier.

But if that was true, the gods had not only failed, but paid dearly for it. Tyler had used the truth-seeing ability sparingly during our region meeting, far more sparingly than when I’d first met him and during the later altercation at the open-forum. Add in the fact that he wasn’t leading the group investigating Myrddin, considering how much he must have wanted to, it all pointed to a vital realization.

Tyler knew his ability couldn’t be trusted.

Which meant if my hunch was correct—barring any monumental fuck-ups—my chances of success had just skyrocketed. I just had to get through this.

The confused murmuring of the conference room had increased as more people arrived, growing into a low roar.

Tyler glanced back at the crowd. “It’s about that time.” He stood and walked towards the front.

Miles followed behind him and stretched, pausing to turn and shoot me a lazy grin. “We’ll chat more later.”

I tried one more time. “Not sure what I could even do to help you. I’m just a kid.”

“No. You’re not.” Miles waved behind his back as he walked away.