“—is also fine,” Nostrand cut in, jerking his head towards Room 16. To Chester’s shock, two of the infirmary’s spellcasters walked directly inside and started to unstrap JJ from the table. “The spellcasters are going to heal him now. He wasn’t actually a dissident. He volunteered for your final exam, which you just passed. Well done.”
The words slammed sideways into Chester’s brain, not penetrating and not computing. His final exam? Whatabouthis final exam? And what did Nostrand mean about JJ not being a dissident? Chester just interrogated him. He justinterrogatedhim, and— “What?”
To Chester’s surprise, Nostrand didn’t berate him for notunderstanding. Instead, he sat down next to him and repeated, slowly and clearly, “Jackson wasn’t actually a dissident. He volunteered as a fake defector for your final exam. That interrogation you just performedwasyour final exam. You passed.”
Chester’s pulse roared in his ears. It sounded an awful lot like screaming.
“For the record,” Nostrand said, “I told the Council that this was a bad idea. But they’re obsessed with proving that you neophyte hunters can match the rest of us, so they decided to give you the most traumatic final exam possible.” He let out his breath in a hiss. “And you passed. So I guess that counts for something.”
Chester’s chest felt tight. Breathing shaky, hands clammy. He was distantly registering Nostrand’s words, abstractly understanding their meaning, but he didn’t quite believe them,couldn’tquite believe them, because?—
Because he couldn’t have tortured his best friend for nothing, right?
“Your status around the Sanctum just went up,” Nostrand continued. “You know how quickly gossip spreads around this place. Everyone knows about your final exam by now.” He leaned forward. “Don’t ruin it by having a breakdown in public. Keep your head down, speak to no one, and walk calmly to your room. Don’t embarrass both of us.” He pushed himself up. “Come on. On your feet.”
29
Obie nods slowly, watching Memory Nostrand repeat his instructions to a shell-shocked Memory Chester. “You were right. Actually, by Nostrand standards, that almost seemed like it passed for ‘nice.’”
“Well, my actionsdidstill reflect on him at this point,” Chester says. “If I had a panic attack in public, it would’ve looked bad for him, but—but yeah. Yeah, I think evenherealized that was a step too far. No one else—not a purebred, not a mixed breed—would’ve been asked to do something like that for a final exam.” His eyes flicker towards Obie. “Can we watch for another few minutes? I want to see something.”
“Sure. Should I skip ahead?”
Chester shakes his head. “No, it’s coming up soon. Bryant and Roma told me afterward that they waited outside the prison for me, but I don’t remember seeing them. I could’ve been in shock or something, but—” He cuts himself off. “I’d just, um. Like to see them. If that’s okay.”
Obie’s heart hurts. Even though Chester sees Bryant whenever she’s not on missions and even saw Roma last week at lunch, he hasn’t seen Bryant and Roma together—hasn’t seen hisfriendsall together—in months.
Obie can give him that. “Of course,” he says, and he settles in next to Chester, watching the memoryscape play out in front of them.
Head down, speak to no one, walk to your room.
The trek down the prison’s main hallway seemed both longer and shorter than usual. Lights too bright, footsteps too loud. A few faces swam in Chester’s peripheral vision, interrogators and prisoners blurring together, but he didn’t make eye contact with any of them.
Head down, speak to no one, walk to your room.
That couldn’t have just happened. Thatcouldn’thave just happened. That couldn’t have?—
The door to the prison loomed ahead of him. He swiped his key card and shouldered his way out into the Sanctum proper, the staircase looking far steeper and narrower than usual.
Head down, speak to no one, walk to your room.
Two more faces out of the corner of his eye. They abruptly stopped talking when he appeared. “Chester,” Roma began, stepping forward.
Chester walked straight past her, his gaze still locked on the floor.
Head down, speak to no one, walk to your room.
Just on the edge of Chester’s earshot, Bryant’s voice drifted up to him. “Damn. He looks even more like crap than I thought he would.”
Obie snorts before he can stop himself. “There’s Bryant’s famous lack of tact.”
Chester’s smile is shaky, but at least it’s there. “To be fair, I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean for me to hear that,” he says, settling back against the wall. “And I don’t remember her saying it, so I guess she succeeded.”
Obie tracks Memory Chester’s progress in the memoryscape as he hurries up the stairs to his third-floor bedroom. “Did they try to follow you?”
Chester shakes his head. “They decided to divide and conquer. Roma waited there for JJ, and Bryant came after me.”
Obie arches an eyebrow. “How’d that go?”
