Page 23 of Dark Shaman: Eternal Hope
Regina kept touching items on her body, her earring, her necklace, twisting her ring, and dropping her hands in her lap in frustration. She had a hard time controlling the physical manifestations of her anxiety despite being aware of them.
Greta sat perfectly still, her expression neutral, giving nothing away—except that such perfect control was revealing in itself. No one was naturally that still unless they'd trained themselves to be that way.
"Time," Carol announced. "Marlene, tell me about Regina."
Marlene nodded. "She touches her jewelry when she's nervous. She's aware of it, tries to stop, but the anxiety wins. She's also left-handed but tries to use her right hand as if she's right-handed. She reaches with her left first, then corrects."
"Good observation," Carol said. "Teresa, what did you notice about Grace?"
"The smile is a mask," Teresa said without hesitation. "She uses it to deflect, to seem harmless and friendly. But if you watchher eyes when she smiles, you can see that they don't always participate. She's performing happiness more than feeling it."
Grace flinched, and Carol saw hurt flash across her face before the smile returned.
"It's not criticism," Carol said gently. "We all wear masks. The point is recognizing them in ourselves and others. Grace, what did you observe about Greta?"
Grace studied the female. "She's containing something. Rage, maybe? Or grief? Her stillness isn't natural. It's a cage she's built around something that wants to escape."
Greta's jaw tightened, but that was her only response.
"Regina?" Carol prompted. "Tell me about Marlene."
Regina hesitated, then spoke quickly. "She's performing with confidence, but there's something underneath. The way she traces patterns on the table—it's like she's writing something over and over. A name, maybe? A mantra?"
Marlene's hand stilled on the table.
"And, Greta," Carol said, "what did you learn about Teresa?"
"She's cataloguing exit routes," Greta said. "Her eyes went to the door, the windows, even the air vents. She's also noting potential weapons—the letter opener on the sideboard, the heavy-looking vase. Old habits from a dangerous life."
Teresa chuckled. "University politics are more cutthroat than people realize, but I wasn't cataloging the items as potential weapons. I just pay attention to what's around me."
"You've all done well," Carol said. "You're observant, analytical, and aware of what people reveal unconsciously. But this isjust the beginning. Your targets will be trained politicians, diplomats, and power brokers. They're used to being watched, so they know how to control what their bodies might reveal. It will take you longer to catch them in moments when their defensive walls are lowered. You might also be the catalysts for that."
She stood again, this time moving to the sidebar where she'd placed a stack of folders.
"Now that you have a better understanding of the undertaking, I'm giving you a chance to reconsider. Once we truly begin, you're in. No backing out because it gets uncomfortable. No quitting when you realize the cost. I'll ask you again in a week, give you a last chance to withdraw, but I hope none of you will drop out. The clan needs you, and I know each one of you has what it takes. With proper training, that is."
"What happens if we want to leave now?" Regina asked.
"Nothing. You go back to your lives with our thanks for giving the project your serious consideration," Carol said. "No judgment. This work isn't for everyone, and recognizing that about yourself is wisdom, not weakness."
The room fell silent. Carol could almost hear their thoughts—weighing desires against fears, potentials against costs.
Marlene spoke first. "I'm in."
"I'm in too," Teresa said. "My mind needs more than civilian life offers."
Grace nodded. "I've been waiting for something interesting to come up my entire long life. Maybe this is it. I'm in."
Regina's hand went to her earring, stopped, and dropped to her lap. "I'm terrified," she admitted. "But I'm moreterrified of living another century without contributing anything meaningful. I'm in."
Everyone looked at Greta.
"During the war," she said quietly, "I seduced a Nazi colonel. Gathered intelligence from him for seven months. He fell in love with me, wanted to leave his wife and marry me. He wasn't a monster—he was a bureaucrat who'd gotten caught up in the propaganda."
She paused, and Carol saw her hands tremble slightly before she clasped them together.
"I got the intelligence that led to his unit being ambushed. Seventeen men died, including him. He was holding the picture I'd given him of myself when they found his body." She looked up, meeting Carol's eyes. "I can still see his face when he told me he loved me. I can still remember feeling nothing but satisfaction that my mission was succeeding."
