It didn’t feel great doing this to Miles. Fed or not, I meant what I said. He was a good guy. But this was about survival now. And survival was where I lived.

“No.” I struggled to my feet.

“I’m… not sure if I understand.” Miles said.

“You’re being very patient with me, but I want this over with.” I started to walk towards the Adventurer’s Guild building. Miles caught my arm and redirected me down the sidewalk instead.

“Come on, the Five Guys down that way just reopened.”

“Not exactly hungry, Miles.”

“Yes, you’re very determined, I can see that.” Miles ignored my complaints and continued to push me towards the restaurant. “But be practical. You look like life punched you in the balls and kept swinging after the count. At least go to the bathroom and wash your face.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not, Matt,” Miles hissed. He checked around us before he spoke. “Look. It took a lot to get you in that room. These guys are pros. If they sense weakness, they’re not going to give you the time of day.”

It was a good half-measure, seeing that there wasn’t an easy way for him to get out of this now. He was giving me time to collect myself and prepare for the bus that was about to hit me. While I was in the bathroom, he was going to message his colleagues, tell them to go easy. Some of them might. But he’d probably spent the last few days convincing them, going over the profile. Their first thought would be suspicion. That I’d gotten to him.

“Sorry.” I hiccuped.

“No, kid, I’m sorry. I was so gung-ho to fix my fuckup, I nearly gave you a heart attack on the street.”

“Fuckup?” I asked curiously.

Miles almost said something, then bit it back. “Not your problem.”

He stayed by the door while I power-walked to the bathroom. I turned the water on and cleaned my face, but didn’t bother with pressing a paper towel against my eyes to reduce the redness. I wanted Miles to remember, while his taskforce slammed the Iron Maiden home.

“You’re terrifying.” Talia muttered.

“Was that panic attack real?” Azure asked, clearly about to gush.

I shot Kinsley a message.

Fuck.

Squelch. Had to be.

Miles was seriously doubting himself, but he was too clever to drop his guard completely.

I held my hand out. The shaking had stopped. “We don’t have much time. Talia, I need you on standby in case this goes sideways. Stay ready.”

“Done.” Talia confirmed.

“Azure—“ I hesitated.

”Are they friends?” Azure asked eagerly. And I understood why he was asking.

“The gloves are off. Do as you please, so long as it doesn’t tip our hand.”

“What’s our desired result?” Azure was all business now.

I thought about it carefully. “Radicalize the fringes. Find the ones that are convinced I’m the Ordinator, make them overextend.”

There was a pause before Azure answered. “If they’re too angry, things may turn nasty.”

“We want that. It’ll keep Miles off-balance and create tension with the skeptics. Deepen their doubt. Report any pertinent thoughts you pick up to me.”

“Split them down the middle.” Azure mused. “I like it.”

”Stay sharp. Both of you.”

I switched titles, selecting from the dropdown. I’d have to work against it here. Force myself to eliminate any of the title’s innate ego and smugness. Play against type.

When I exited the bathroom, Miles was waiting with a white cup in his hands, decorated with red. He held it out to me, apologetically. “Milkshake?”

How nice. He’d even bought me a prop.

/////

By the time we’d entered the Adventurer’s Guild and climbed the stairs to the meeting area, Miles looked visibly irritated. To our right, there was a glass panel with an endless line of sparring mats. I caught a glimpse of Sara in workout clothes, doing one-handed bicep curls, and waved.

She smiled, set the barbell down and waved back, then pulled the towel from around her neck and wiped her face.

Hopefully, she was still here when I left. I couldn’t drag Miles directly, but I needed to start laying the groundwork to discredit him yesterday.

Miles had selected a meeting room that was all glass, front and back. It lended further credence to my theory that he wanted Myrddin either see this directly or hear about it second hand.

There were four of them inside. Three men and a woman. I noted in dark amusement that they looked nothing like I’d imagined. Instead of the standard fed suit, they were each in some variety of casual-wear.

And from the look of it, they were already arguing. Perfect.

Miles threw the door open. It banged loudly against the doorstop.

“Glad you could join us.” The woman said, in a dry monotone.

Detractor

“We got held up.” Miles gave her a subtle glare that last a fraction of a second, then smiled. “Thanks for warming up the projector. Since we’re running late, best cut the intros short. From left to right, Foster, Cook, Waller, Hawkins.

I sized them all up behind the guise of a friendly nod.

Foster was a dark-skinned man in a black t-shirt and jeans, his head shaved completely bald.

Skeptic

Cook never quite outgrew the frat phase and had the kind of face that made him look like he was constantly chewing something. His Hawaiian print shirt was unbuttoned around three buttons lower than anyone would reasonably be comfortable with.

Detractor

Waller immediately returned to his notes, peering through opaque framed Ray Bans at a yellow legal pad. He wore a vest over his t-shirt that looked vaguely bohemian, all random chevrons and muted colors.

Detractor

Hawkins, wore a simple tank-top and slacks, her blonde hair framed in a short cut bob.

Undecided

“Everyone, this is Matt. Our behind-the-scenes correspondent for the afternoon.” Miles said.

“Hi Matt.” Hawkins smile reached gigawatt levels as she turned up the charm. She shook my hand in both of hers, and her touch lingered. “Thanks for taking the time.”

“Always heartwarming when the local celebrities pencil in the little people.” Cook smirked, giving me a half-wave.

“It was the least I could do, considering the circumstances.” I channeled Nick’s casual friendliness. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Miles flag. That regret he felt for railroading me made him my strongest ally in this room by far.

“Waller.” Miles snapped his fingers. “You’re the expert, here. Want to kick us off?”

Waller peered over his glasses at Miles, then his eyes slid to me. “Given the choice, I’d prefer to start with our new addition.”

Miles stopped mid-step, genuine confusion in his face. “That’s a little unexpected. Matt is a guest.”

“We can theorize all we want, but it’s no substitute for someone who knew the man.” Waller jotted something down. I focused a small burst of mana on his pen and the tip snapped, spilling ink over the page. “Shit.” Waller tried to rip the page free before the ink bled through. Judging from the annoyed look on his face, he failed. Pursing his lips, he glanced up at me. “Is that amenable?”

“Of course.” I took three long steps towards the table before Waller held up his hand to stop me.

“There, if you please.” He pointed to a single bottomed out office chair at the window side of the room. The placement was extraordinarily well-thought-out. Anyone who happened to be looking could see me from the outside, oblivious to my state, while Miles and the rest of his people were perfectly shielded. I’d have to look back and between the projector screen and the panel, while they could monitor both my reactions and the screen simultaneously.

And of course, I’d bet every bit of selve Kinsley had paid me on the office chair being broken, locked in a lower position.

I watched for the telltale shimmer from my periphery as Azure slithered from my shadow into the shade beneath the table. Once he was in, I gave Waller a bemused smile and took a seat on the office chair, standing briefly to pull the lever and raise it.

It worked, but only until I sat down. The chair lowered me slowly to its previous place with a muted hiss.

Miles took his seat at the end of the table, looking mildly sick to his stomach.

Now.

How did I want to play this?