I could hardly admit it to myself, but I missed Homer. I missed all of them. I wanted to move past my anger and hurt and tell them what I knew: that games were already afoot at Katz Castle, and they might involve the resistance.
They had told me the truth; I would do the same. The ground beneath our feet would be level. We could make a fresh start.
Still, I paused outside the navigator’s door for a long breath before I walked inside.
Homer, Lang, Yu, and Andersen were standing over the map at Homer’s table, looking grave.
Lang straightened when I walked in, dark eyes searching me as if they were picking my pockets, his expression strangely unguarded. It struck me afresh how much younger he was than Yu and Homer. How unprepared he might feel, compared to others who had seen more and done more.
My fingers wound the sinuous route from England to Norge, from Norge across the sea to the Canal Route to the Reyn. If our map were magic, perhaps it would show us there, one ship along its blue length, a dozen or so interlopers ready to invade the gray mass at its core.
“Selah.” Homer’s voice was like gravel. “What do you need?” If the older man felt uncertain, his face gave no hint of it.
I swallowed. “Anything?” I asked. “Any fresh leads?”
Yu shook his head. “We have no new information.” His voice was even, but there was disappointment at the back of it.
I felt a sudden wash of sympathy; it was no surprise, how tired and drawn they looked. They were trying to help the Waldleute, but they had so little to go on.
I hoped I could be the one to change that.
I drew close to the table. “I had an idea.” Andersen brightened.
“We’d welcome your suggestions, Seneschal-elect,” Lang said, nodding amicably. He hardly took his eyes off the map as he spoke, barely even looked at me.
Big of you, I wanted to grumble. But acting like a child wouldn’t inspire them to listen.
“What if we used my radio to contact the Waldleute?” I asked. “If we could reach out to them before we arrived in Shvartsval’d, it might save us time. We could even leave before my appointed two weeks are up—make up an excuse to go home early.”
No one spoke for a long moment. They exchanged glances, all seeming to choose their words carefully. Yu’s face was even harder than usual, and Andersen looked wilted, his shoulders slumped uncomfortably, his hair seeming to droop.
Had I spoken too eagerly? Had I come across as a child anyway?
“What is it?” I finally asked.
“We don’t have a channel for speaking to the Waldleute,” Yu said, pragmatic as ever.
“Well,” I began, then paused, uncertain how to explain what I’d overheard.
But Homer spoke first. “What Yu is trying to say is that we’ve already tried.” He watched me with clear eyes, grizzled arms crossed over his chest. “Just a day or two ago.”
“You’ve already—” I glanced around the cabin, frowning. “You have a radio here?” My gaze jumped around, confused. Andersen ducked his head, looking more than a little like J.J.
Lang walked to Homer’s bookcase and retrieved a small black object and held it out to me. “Our intelligence said we’d be passing a radio tower a few days ago, so we borrowed yours then,” he said, tone careful. “We tried to hail the Waldleute. Couldn’t raise them.”
My radio was in Lang’s hand.
“You—” I shook my head. “You went into my room?”
Lang didn’t answer.
“Did you search my things?” My voice rose.
“Your book was on your bed.” He bit his lip. “I didn’t think you would object.”
“Obviously I don’t object, as I’m here, offering it.” My anger mounted. “But what right do you have to take my things?”
“Requisitioning of resources is common in wartime,” Homer said mildly.
“Except I don’t answer to you!” I shot back.
Andersen pinched the bridge of his nose. “I told you we should’ve told her,” he mumbled, speaking for the first time.
“Yes, you should have.” I snatched the radio from Lang’s hand and pushed toward the door.
“It’s probably best you don’t use it for now,” Homer said to my back.
I turned, staring at him. My radio was my only means of hearing from my godmother—of obtaining information about Daddy. “Why?”
“It’s possible the Imperiya could use any signal your radio emits or receives to determine our location.”
“But you used it,” I said.
Yu shrugged. “A calculated risk.”
“Your calculations,” I spat. “Not mine.”
“We—” Lang began again, then broke off. His eyes were guilty, but he said nothing more.
It was too much. My blood had been boiling, simmering, seething for days. It ran thick now, and hot with anger.
I’d come to them in good faith, with valuable information. And again, they’d treated me like a child. Like a figurehead. Like nothing more than cover for them while they did the real work behind the scenes.
I would tell them nothing. They would regret not having trusted me. And for once, I didn’t care what it cost.
Homer’s door gave off a report like a shot when I threw it open against the opposing wall, then another when I slammed it behind me.
“Selah!” Lang called after me. He chased me down the stairs to the hold. “Selah, wait!”
He caught me by my empty hand, and I wrenched my fingers from his. “Never again, Lang. You are never, ever to invade my privacy again.” My heart raced. What if he had seen something I hadn’t wanted him to see? What if I had done something more personal with the back of my godmother’s book than mark passing time?
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Lang shook his head, so earnest. “I’m sorry, Selah. I’ll never do it again.”
If they had come to me, I would have helped them. I would have told them how to contact the Waldleute while we were still within range of a tower.
I would keep my information to myself now. I would do with it what I thought best.
My jaw worked. “You’re right. You won’t. I’m going to start locking my door.”
“I never will.” There was a catch in Lang’s voice.
I paused. “What?”
“I will never lock my door to you,” he said quietly. He took one, two steps closer to me—not so close that I felt pinned between him and the wall, but close enough that I could feel him as well as hear the uncertain rhythm of his breath. Smell the salt on his skin, like sweat, like the ocean. “I had no right to invade your privacy, but you can lay claim to mine. If you ever decide you’d like to.”
I forced my chin up. His eyes fixed, dark, on mine.
“Does that mean you’re going to start including me?” I asked, voice shaking. “Tell me things? Let me in on your plans?”
“It’s—” Lang broke off, stepping back, shaking his head. It broke the spell between us. “Selah, I don’t want you any more involved in this than you have to be. It’s just not safe.”
I bit my lip, holding his gaze.
Nothing had changed. I was still a child to him. Still a prize to be guarded.