Page 34 of Of Flame and Fury

Kel tried again, “She doesn’t like it when you—”

“You’re going to have to get used to letting others near her,” Dira said. She gave Kel’s hand a squeeze.

“Two seconds after we arrive?” Kel muttered.

“If they want their hands bitten off, leave them to it. Cristo’s going to want some say in who trains her.”

Kel grumbled. Dira was right. That was part of this whole arrangement; Savita would belong to Cristo just as much as she belonged to Kel. The thought grated against Kel’s bones.

Dira steered Kel toward the nearest building. Bekn and Coup were having their fingerprints scanned by a tall woman in a black uniform. A moment later, the metal gates guarding the building drifted open, and the Howlers were led inside.

All four jaws dropped.

Kel had heard Cristo’s estates referred to as facilities and compounds—but this was acity. Labyrinthine corridors weaved in every direction and sky-high ceilings were connected by delicate bridges. Every wall was pristine white, with long, tinted windows that seemed to reach the clouds. The intricately carved ceiling loomed over them like a tidal wave. The air was clinical, with thefaintest taste of sweet incense wafting through the air, like a flower trying to bloom beneath cracks in cement.

The glittering grandeur filled Kel with awe and fear. Every lustrous inch of this building reminded her of the stakes now guiding the Howlers’ steps. This sponsorship wasn’t free of strings. Kel didn’t know what those strings looked like yet, but she did know that this was her last chance—heronlychance—to save everything she loved.

The Howlers were led through security gates and past a reception desk. When they stopped before another set of clinical, pearly doors, a figure stepped through.

Kel doubted the girl was any older than her. Her ink-black hair fell in a straight sheet down her back, over a blue coat that reached the ground. Her uptilted, hazel eyes were softer than Coup’s, reminding Kel of the cooling Sheathing Season, of dry leaves bronzing and falling.

Her porcelain skin was just a shade darker than the white of her teeth, framed by rosy lips that pulled up into a grin. “You must be the Howlers.”

Dira’s eyes roamed the girl. “We must be.”

The girl beckoned them forward. “Come on. I’m meant to give you a tour of the facilities.”

The Howlers exchanged another look and hurried to follow. For such a short, wispy creature, the girl certainly moved fast.

Through the doors, a large hall was partitioned into smaller offices cluttered with desks and bent heads. Dira cleared her throat. “And you are?”

“Didn’t I introduce myself?” She laughed softly. “I’m Rahn. I’m a part of the CAPR program. Canen asked that I show you around while he’s at a conference in Dresva. He’s returning soon, but he didn’t want to keep you waiting.”

Silently, they each absorbed Rahn’s words. She’d called the head of this entire corporationCanen. They all stood a little straighter.

Rahn went on, “Cristo Industries is a bit of a maze, so I don’t expect you to remember all of this. I’ll just show each of you your workstations, and then your accommodation.”

She turned back to the group. “I live here, too. It’s much nicer than it seems, I promise.”

Kel raised an eyebrow. If that were the case, then it must be fit for the Alchemists themselves.

Rahn scanned her security badge, leading them down an elevator and along a corridor. Dira showered Rahn with questions as they walked, her voice an octave higher than its usual dry, gruff notes. Kel hid a smirk at Coup’s and Bekn’s perplexed frowns. Dira had always been quick to fall for—and away from—girls who crossed their paths.

After a few more identical turns, Rahn led them into a room with no windows. At the center sat a small rectangular desk, surrounded by leather chairs.

Rahn gestured for them to sit. “I’ll need you to sign your contracts and NDAs before we go any further. I know you must have questions, and as soon as you sign these I’ll be more than happy to answer every one of them.”

A clawed hand reached inside Kel’s stomach and squeezed. Bekn took a slow step toward Rahn. “What kinds of NDAs?”

Rahn beamed. “Oh, it’s all very standard. Just a few clauses stating you won’t discuss our research and projects with anyone outside the company.”

Bekn nodded and took another step forward. They each followed, like ducklings trailing into unknown waters.

Bekn skimmed the papers once, twice. His fingers followed thetext and paused halfway down the second page. “This says that we’ll be required to ‘perform well’ in CAPR races. That’s very vague.”

Rahn’s smile wilted. “Oh—I’m sorry. It’s a standard sponsorship contract. Most sponsors ask the same. There are no set expectations when racing. Just… that you try your best.”

Rahn’s voice fluttered as she spoke, like a balloon losing air. Kel couldn’t tell if the girl’s words shivered from nerves or excitement.

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