“Is it important to be useful?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“All things must have a purpose. My purpose is to serve one of your blood.”

“But you’re not a thing, Adora. You’re a person.”

“People must be useful, too.”

Well, she had me there. This wasn’t going well. “Tell me about yourself.”

“I’m fast and strong. I’m proficient with bladed weapons but prefer Japanese-style swords. I possess three power words but can use only one at a time. Among my generation, I’m ranked fourth.”

“Why fourth?”

She hesitated. “I’m very fast, but I have a limited magic reserve compared to two others and a limited kill ratio compared to three others. Also I kill better at short range.”

“How many sahanu were in your age group?”

“Originally, twenty-two.”

She wasn’t surprised by the word. Julie’s information seemed to be accurate.

“What do you mean by ‘originally’?”

She hesitated. “Some people died. Some people were taken from the fort before completing their studies, because they were needed elsewhere.”

“How many completed the course of study with you?”

“Nine.”

“I saw a large dark-skinned woman who wears chain mail and carries a hammer.”

“Carolina. She’s ranked eighth.”

She didn’t seem worried.

“There was also a man with a patched trench coat.”

“Razer.” She paused. “Ranked first.”

“Tell me about them.”

“Carolina is powerful but not as fast as me. Her magic produces a telekinetic push that’s devastating at a range of up to five meters. A quicker fighter or a ranged opponent can take her out. She’s best in a team of two or more, where someone can watch her back.”

“And Razer?”

“Razer is faster, stronger, and more precise than me. His magic is more powerful than mine. He kills his opponents and sometimes he eats their flesh.”

“Is Razer fae?”

She nodded.

That’s what I thought. There had been reports of children born to seemingly normal parents with facial features and abilities consistent with those of the fae as described in legends. Mostly in urban areas up north, ones with a large concentration of Irish immigrants, such as Boston and Weymouth. By the last census, six percent of Atlanta’s population had claimed Irish ancestry. I knew this because the Pack had detailed maps of the city and at one point I was asked to help tag them by the mythology of their culture. In the post-Shift world, where you were from mattered because the myths and legends of your homeland followed you.

Nobody knew exactly what the fae were capable of. Some called them elves, some called them fairies, the fair folk, or Tuatha Dé Danann, but everyone agreed that they were bad news.

“What are his powers?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I only fought against him twice. He didn’t use magic to win.”

That meant he won on speed, strength, and skill and she had more than a normal human’s dose of all three. Razer would be fun.

“Are there any other fae among the sahanu?”

“Yes.”

“Among the nine?”

“Irene is fae,” Adora said. “I think.”

“What are her powers?”

“I don’t know.” Her mouth quivered. She didn’t want to disappoint me and she must’ve been worried about my disapproval. She was under enough stress already from everything I had put her through. I had to move on.

“Thank you. When you feel better, I’d like you to write down everything that you think is relevant or useful about the other sahanu of your generation. Is there an age category older than yours?”

“No,” she shook her head. “We are the first generation. There are younger generations.”

Ugh. “How old are you, Adora?”

“Twenty-four.”

Only four years younger than me, but there was an almost childlike simplicity about her. Her world was clearly defined: making me happy and serving me was good, being useless to me was bad. She was giving me all of the information I wanted without any hesitation. Two days ago she would’ve likely died to keep that information secret from me, but now, with her allegiance shifted, Adora kept no secrets, like a young child who instinctively recognized an adult as an authority figure and was eager to prove she was smart and resourceful. Most people were at least somewhat jaded by their midtwenties, but for her there were no shades of gray. It wasn’t the naiveté of someone who believes the world is a nice place; it was an innocence, bolstered by the childlike belief that she was doing the right thing, because a person of power and authority assured her she was.

I needed to put a crack into that worldview. There had to be something in her psyche that rebelled against the view of my father as perfection wrapped in golden light.

“How long have you served my father?”

“Since I was seven.”

“Is that when you were brought to the place where the sahanu are trained?”

“Yes.”

“Did you have a family before you were brought there?” If there was any human emotion in her, I should get a spark now.

“Yes. Some children were orphans, but I wasn’t. My mother and father were very well compensated. I was chosen because of my magic.”

My father, never missing a falling star. “Did you miss your family?”

She hesitated. I held my breath.

“Yes. But now the sahanu are my family.”

And yet she gave me information that would help me kill them without any hesitation.

“Were you angry that your parents sold you? Did you feel abandoned? Did you think it was unfair?”

She opened her mouth and closed it.

“My father isn’t here. Your instructors aren’t here. It’s only me and you. Did you think it was unfair?”

“Yes,” she said quietly. “I cried. And I missed my mom, my dad, and my sister.”

“Do you think other children might have missed their parents, too?”

“Yes.” The strain was showing on her face. Too much. I had to change the subject.

“Have you ever killed for my father?”