I followed Astrid down the hall, walking a few steps behind her and trying to wrap my head around what had just happened. I felt as if I had just surfaced for the first time in a long time, and could focus again. Maybe coming to terms with my mother had helped, I wasn’t certain, but now that I could think more clearly again, some of my anger toward Astrid was fading fast as I considered the cover-up and what it really meant.

I supposed it was naïve of me to hope that they would reveal any aspect of the truth regarding my mother’s murder. If they had discovered that the sentinel was stolen, which was more than likely, they wouldn’t want to broadcast that to the Tower. What’s more, if they found out there was a group behind the theft, they wouldn’t want to cause a panic inside with the knowledge of a potential terrorist cell.

I was still angry that she and the council had used my mother’s funeral as a stage to broadcast the news that I was the Champion, but I found the questions I had for Astrid were far more pressing than that, and decided to use the walk to the Champion’s quarters to let my temper cool off some.

The Champion’s quarters, like every department lead’s apartment, were a well-guarded secret, to the point that most of the department didn’t know where their lead lived. Not only were their locations hidden, but each housed some of the most sophisticated defense systems in the Tower, in case anyone tried to attack the leader of a department directly. It hadn’t happened, but councilors continued to keep their quarters hidden over the years for this reason alone.

A lead’s quarters also served as a sort of fallout shelter, should a catastrophe large enough to destroy the Tower occur. They were supplied for any event imaginable, with hundreds of thousands of liters of water that were refreshed daily to prevent stagnation, and food stores that could last months or years, depending on how many people a councilor stuffed into their apartment. Each had direct access to the outside in some way, and could be ejected from the Tower if needed. Supposedly, anyway. No one really knew, so much of what I had gleaned was based on rumors—and many of them were ludicrous, so I had taken in only the ones that made the most sense.

I had always daydreamed about what the Champion’s apartment would actually look like.

Astrid led me into the elevator, which scanned our nets to ensure that we were authorized for use. I winced as the net in my skull began to vibrate, sending waves of discomfort through my brain and skull and setting my teeth on edge. It ended moments later, and a digitized feminine voice said, “Champion Liana Castel, 25K-05, and retired Knight Commander Astrid Felix, 165K-58, you are cleared for elevator use.”

A thin, flat disc slid from the wall into the open shaft and hovered in place, and Astrid and I stepped onto it. I started to turn around as it began to lift us into the tube, to face the entry portal, but paused when I saw Astrid still facing the wall behind us.

“What are you doing?”

She looked over at me and offered a small smile, the lines around her eyes crinkling. “Liana, what’s on the other side of this wall?”

I frowned and looked at the wall, trying to think. This elevator was one of the six that ran through the centermost part of the Citadel. There wasn’t anything on the other side, except for the internal support structure that allowed the structure to hang from the ceiling.

“Nothing but a massive steel rod and brace beams,” I replied, letting some of my confusion show.

Her smile deepened, and she looked up. “Stop the elevator between the thirty-first and thirty-second floors on my authority, Astrid Felix 165K-58.” The elevator slowed to a stop, and I tensed, taking a step away from her that was purely reactionary. All I could think was that I was alone with a woman I wasn’t sure I could trust, and that she had just shut the elevator off in a way that left me completely alone with her for some unknown reason.

I was certain I had just walked into a trap.

She noticed it, cocked her head in confusion, and then blinked rapidly in alarm. “Oh Scipio, Liana, no! I’m not going to attack you! I’m sorry for the theatrics. I just thought I’d surprise you. Your quarters are on the other side of the wall.”

Her voice carried a slightly flustered tinge, and I could tell she was mentally kicking herself for not thinking about how her actions would affect a recently traumatized and paranoid young woman. And I could’ve smiled, if the sight hadn’t made me sad. She knew now that I didn’t trust her, and while that wasn’t entirely true, it wasn’t exactly wrong, either. It made me feel guilty for even reacting like that toward her. And it made me hate the people who had put that seed of paranoia in my heart.

“It’s all right,” I replied, relaxing slightly and trying to shake it off. “Show me to my quarters.”

As if on cue, a door in the wall separating us from the heart of the Citadel slid open. Astrid gave me a pleased smile, and then stepped through the door and into the darkness. I hesitated for a second… then followed. The door slid shut behind me with a slight grating sound, and then lights came on overhead—terrible bright white things that stung my eyes.

“It’s a bit bright in here,” I said, raising my hand to shield my eyes so I could peer around the room. Before I could even get my hand up, though, the lights dimmed to a tolerable level.

“My apologies,” a dry masculine voice announced. “Your predecessor preferred the light settings to be much higher. If you wish to make these your new settings, please say so. If not, you can order them higher or lower, based on your preference.”

I blinked and looked around, searching for the speaker. Only, the floor was empty. Just a flat, circular dome with lights gleaming from the ceiling. “Who said that?”

“That’s Cornelius,” Astrid said from beside me. “He’s your personal assistant, and can answer almost any question you have regarding protocol and procedure.”

I blinked again, still confused. We had computers that spoke, after a fashion—the elevator scanners were a prime example of that—but they were automated, programmed with only a small variety of things to say and commands to respond to. They couldn’t sustain a dialogue with anyone, and even if they could, I doubted they would be as ingratiating as this voice had sounded.

“Cornelius?” I repeated.

“Yes, Milady Champion,” he replied. “How may I be of service?”

I looked over at Astrid. “I’m really confused.”

She smiled. “Cornelius is an advanced program, much more advanced than others in the Tower. He’s not sentient—only Scipio is, of course—but he can feel rather lifelike due to his broad vocabulary. He can take commands, as long as they are worded generally and are within his purview, and he can find almost any record within the Citadel or the council’s private server, should you need it.”

Huh. That was new and exciting. And also a little terrifying. The group of people I thought were behind the sentinel, and the attack on Scipio, had definitely proven they had a way with computers, and Cornelius could have been one of their targets. For all I knew, he had been hacked long ago. Especially considering that his former user, Devon Alexander, had been part of a legacy group that had been working to steal parts of Scipio’s code. Even if he hadn’t, the legacies we were up against had proven incredibly adept at manipulating the security systems around the Tower—which made Cornelius a potential threat. I’d have to be careful about what I told him and how I used him, or he could become a huge vulnerability that our enemies could exploit.

“I see.” I took another look around the room while I considered the problem and how to solve it, and was momentarily taken aback by how underwhelming the room was.

Because that was all it was: a room. A large, empty space with nothing save a column in the middle and a dome-like roof overhead.

“This isn’t what I expected.”

Astrid smiled warmly and then nodded to the column. “Wait until you see what it can do,” she replied mysteriously. “Come here.”

I followed her to the column and watched as she pressed her fingers against a dimly glowing spot halfway up. Instantly, a five-foot section of the column dropped open, revealing a three-dimensional holographic image of the room in red. There was also some sort of interactive screen over it, with several drop-down menus that read Layout, Furniture, Level, Appliances, Accessories. I jabbed my finger at the last one, feeling a tingle of electricity in my fingertip as I poked the word Accessories, and a moment later the screen changed, showing me an array of blankets, pillows, dishware, cookware, vases…

I looked over at Astrid and raised an eyebrow. “I can design the room?”

She nodded and reached over me to hit the back button. “You can,” she replied excitedly, swiping her finger through the entry marked Layout. The image of the room immediately got closer, and I watched as she drew a wall just to the left of us. A second later there was a soft grating sound, and a wall slid from the floor up to the ceiling. There was a flurry of movement overhead as a table was placed against the wall and topped with a vase, both delivered from above through the use of a robotic crane.

I gaped, astonished at what I was looking at, and gave her a wide-eyed look. “How is this possible?”

“You and the other councilors have access to a storehouse of furniture and different supplies in the top levels of the Citadel. Whenever you order something, it’s delivered. The room is adjustable according to your needs and wants, so you can lay things out in a way that makes you most comfortable. I would suggest that you create a large seating area, though, as you’ll be expected to meet with the Knight Commanders once a month to listen to their reports.”

I nodded, but inside I was feeling slightly anxious. This was a lot to take in. A room that I could change to my own desires, complete with a computer program assistant who could possibly be spying on me? Not to mention the idea that I was going to be hosting meetings with the Knight Commanders once a month…

Scipio help me, only five minutes as Champion and I was overwhelmed—and certain that this wasn’t even the tip of the spear.

“Is there anything else I need to know about the room?” I asked.

Astrid nodded, and hit the No button under a line that read, Accept changes to the room? Seconds later the wall, table, and vase had been whisked away, leaving the floor empty and vacant again. I watched as she selected the Level button and keyed in the number 65, suddenly wondering why she was doing it manually.

“Hey, can’t Cornelius handle this?”

She chuckled. “He’s programmed to do a lot, but someone decided that giving him too much control wasn’t necessarily a good thing, as even computer programs can break down or get glitches. You’ll need him to help sift through the massive amounts of historical data we’ve collected, should it come up, but you don’t need him to work the room when this terminal can do it just as well. This also gives you peace of mind that Cornelius won’t bug out and decide a wall was needed right in the middle of your bed.”

I shuddered at the image and took a quick glance at her, trying to decide whether she was joking or not. I couldn’t tell, and something told me I didn’t want to know, so I didn’t ask. I wouldn’t sleep for a month if I learned a councilor had been killed by their virtual assistant.

She hit the enter key, and the floor immediately started to shake as the entire room began to lift up. My new home, it seemed, was also a giant elevator. “It runs all the way through the top of the Citadel to the very top of the Tower. You can exit through any of the marked doors—” she pointed at the six rectangles with designations over them as they slid by “—and be in one of the six main elevators. It just has to be lined up in between two floors, as that was where the doors were built leading to the normal elevators. You can give whomever you want permission to come and go, if you desire, but be aware that the defense system is designed to use lethal force, so you should never send anyone in here if you haven’t authorized them to enter. The defenses will be configured to your new home as best as possible, but you will have some say in that configuration. That section is found under a subheading in the Appliances option. Cornelius can walk you through it. Now, do you have any questions for me?”

I stared at her, and then crossed my arms over my chest. I had been momentarily distracted by the intriguing possibilities of my new home, but now I remembered my questions from earlier.

I wanted to know what the council had really uncovered, and what they were doing about it.

“I want to know what the council really found in their investigation into my mother’s death,” I said roughly.

Astrid’s smile wilted, leaving a sour look on her face. “Liana…” she said, trailing off. “Look, I know you think that your mother and Min-Ha’s deaths are connected to Ambrose’s murder, but I led this investigation personally. I questioned the designers and the techs thoroughly, with Scipio watching their emotional states through their nets to see if they were lying. I had multiple experts from the Mechanics Department and IT running tests and comparing their findings, independent of each other. The sentinel was torn apart and meticulously studied. Their deaths were tragic and horrifying, but I am convinced that they were accidents.”

My brows drew together in confusion at her words. She had personally run the investigation? And hadn’t found any evidence that the sentinel had been stolen, or that it was being controlled by anyone else? I fought back a groan as I realized that there were only two things that made sense: Astrid had forced the investigation to a conclusion that she wanted because she was working with the legacies, or… she had discovered exactly what she was meant to, so that the legacies could continue to move around freely. Of the two of them, the last was far, far more likely.

Even if I didn’t want to believe it.

“So you’re saying that there was no one actually controlling the sentinel, but that it was supposed to be an obstacle in the Tourney… and just went haywire?” I asked, needing the confirmation. If Astrid wasn’t lying, then was it possible someone above her was? The only people who had been above her in this had been the council… A chill hit me as I realized that it was entirely possible that someone on the council was a legacy, or controlled by one.

“Unless you count Scipio, then no,” Astrid said, folding her arms over her chest. “But if you don’t believe me, feel free to ask Cornelius for access to the council file and take a look at the reports yourself. It’ll be filed by date, but you can use general search words, like your mother’s name, or even the sentinel—although that would pull up other information as well.” She speared me with a sharp look and added, in a dry tone, “Do let me know if you find anything that I might have missed.”

“I’ll do that,” I replied, refusing to be cowed by the steeliness of her gaze. I knew I had upset her by insinuating that she had missed something, but I didn’t care. I wanted to find out what had happened. I didn’t want to believe there was another enemy legacy on the council—that made everything even more dangerous. I supposed it was possible that the legacy group just had a lot of well-placed connections and had been able to set all of this up, cover-up and all? Could the entire council have been duped? It was also a possibility, but I couldn’t see how. I needed those files.

I looked up to see Astrid staring at me expectantly, waiting to see what I would ask next, and thought for a second. If she was truly satisfied with the investigation, continuing to question her would just make her angry. So I moved on to my next question, one that wasn’t as pressing, but was burning in the back of my mind all the same.

“Whose idea was it to make the announcement during my mother’s funeral?”

She rolled her eyes, but again, I got the distinct impression that it wasn’t directed at me. “Look, kid, I didn’t agree with that decision, and fought against it, but the council was adamant that all of this be put to bed… if you’ll excuse my awful choice of words there. So was Scipio. He felt it would be good for the Citadel’s morale, and the Tower itself, to get the Knights represented so that the department could get back on track. And since they planned to announce the conclusion of the investigation at that point anyway, they figured why not let them down and then try to lift them back up?”

I looked away. Her answer made a certain amount of sense from the council’s point of view—they didn’t want morale to fall—but I didn’t like the greasy sensation of it, which made my stomach twist. “It wasn’t right,” I replied, and to my surprise, Astrid nodded.

“I agree. I’m sorry that I sprang that on you, Liana, but I was under orders from the council and from Scipio himself. You understand?”

I met her earnest look, and then sighed. I did understand. It wasn’t her fault that she was following orders; it was the way we were all brought up. You did what Scipio told you to because if you didn’t, then you were clearly an enemy of the Tower.

But what Astrid didn’t know was that Scipio’s will wasn’t exactly his own these days. I’d seen him manipulated once already—at my trial for the murder of Devon Alexander—and knew from Lacey that there was another group controlling him even more directly, influencing his decisions. I just wasn’t certain they’d go as far as to influence when and where information was distributed. If they were going to affect anything, they would’ve made Scipio tell the council to reject me and re-do the Tourney, so their chosen candidate could win instead.

Speaking of which…

“I understand,” I said carefully, wondering just how to ask her what I wanted to know. “How did this even happen?” was what I finally decided on.

“You mean, how did you become the Champion?” I nodded, and Astrid sighed. “I’ll admit that you entering the arena armed with an illegal weapon didn’t earn you a lot of favor, especially with the Medica. Chief Surgeon Sage was very upset to learn that the voltage on those little shocker things could’ve easily killed a human being, and argued that for all anyone knew, you’d brought them to use against the candidates, and just happened to save lives instead. IT was also dead-set against accepting the results. I don’t know what you did to that woman, but Sadie Monroe hates you, kid.”

That was unsurprising; she had hated me since the day she met me. It was surprising, though, to hear that Marcus Sage had sided with her. The Chief Surgeon of the Medica was over a hundred years old, and had seemed mostly disinterested with my trial. Now, it was very possible that his concerns were what Astrid said—merely based on safety—but still, I marked it and filed it away. No one was above suspicion, and if Sage was somehow involved with the legacy group, then I wanted to know.

“Anyway,” Astrid continued, shifting her weight to her other leg and crossing her arms, “your saving grace was that you admitted to everything.”

“I did?” I asked, unable to hide my confusion. The interview after the Tourney was one giant blur, and I honestly couldn’t recall exactly what I had told her by way of explanation.

“Yes, you did, remember? You told me that you overheard a group of designers talking about how they were planning to use a sentinel for the final challenge and created the shockers to stop it, to give yourself an advantage. My favorite part was when you said, ‘Yes, I cheated. But if I hadn’t, then more people would be dead. You’re welcome.’”

“I said that?” I looked away, surprised at hearing my own words for what seemed like the first time and shocked that I had been able to fabricate something that believable and had delivered it in such a way. Scipio help me, it seemed so callous now. Hours after my mother’s death and I had been acting like that? “Wow.”

“I agree,” Astrid said. There was a long pause, and then she added, “You’re a good kid, Liana, with a kind and strong heart. It’s something the Citadel needs, more than you might think. But I also know that you’ve been pushed to a breaking point, and I want to tell you that you’re not alone. You can come to me if you need help, or advice… or even just a shoulder to cry on.”

I rubbed my hands together and nodded absently. I’d heard those words a thousand times by now, and a certain amount of bleak hopelessness rose up to greet them before they could ever settle in, reminding me that she was wrong. I was alone. Completely and abjectly alone. Maybe not in the physical sense, but certainly in my soul, where I was trapped by memories of what had been and dreams of what could’ve been.

And there wasn’t anything anyone could do about that.

But still, I gave her the empty platitude I had given everyone else. “Thank you. I’ll be sure to do so, if I feel the need.”

Her mouth flattened into a thin, displeased line, and I could tell that she didn’t believe me, but she didn’t press. “Good. Now, before we finish here, there is one little matter of who will be serving as your Lieutenant. Traditionally, the Champion picks someone from their team. I understand that Grey Farmless is quite popular. Will he be taking on that role?”

I considered the question for a second. Leo would be a good Lieutenant, but I knew he wouldn’t want the job. He’d helped us during the Tourney because we were being forced to do it, but his heart and soul were dedicated to the mission of helping Scipio, and being Lieutenant would only distract him from his cause.

Besides, Maddox was my first instinct. Not just because of Leo’s situation, although that was a part of it, but because she was the best fit for the job. She’d dreamed of being a Knight since she was little, and though she hadn’t been educated inside the system, she knew it inside and out, thanks to her mother’s education and her own determination. Beyond that, she had tested out of being a Squire within two days—an impressive feat, considering she didn’t have a photographic memory or enhanced reflexes like Leo did.

“No, he will not,” I said, feeling confident about my decision. “Maddox Kerrin will.”

“The undoc?” Astrid asked, her eyes widening in alarm. “I’m not sure the other Knight Commanders will like that, considering she’s the daughter of two people they consider to be traitors.”

“Camilla Kerrin was not a traitor,” I snapped, wanting to defend not only Maddox, but the memory of her mother as well. Cali might have run away from the Citadel, but she’d had little choice in the matter; she had done what she did to save her child and stay alive. “She tried to alert the council to Devon’s treachery, but he found out and ran her off. She fled, pregnant with their child, and hid, knowing that Devon would kill her long before she could get to the council. So you will talk about her with respect, and tell the Knight Commanders to treat Maddox as if they were talking to me.”

Astrid’s eyebrows shot straight up in surprise, but behind it I could see a glimmer of respect that was steadily growing, and mentally patted myself on the back. “I will do that, but keep in mind, kid, I go back to teaching in the Academy now. My investigation is over, and I’m retired. Maddox is going to have to earn the Commanders’ respect in her own way, but I’ve seen the vid files from the Tourney, and I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

I wasn’t certain how to respond to that, so I just smiled and nodded.

“Do you need anything else?”

“Yes,” I said. There was one more thing I needed, and that was a step toward finding the legacy group. Which meant looking into every investigation—not just my mother’s. “I need everything you have on the investigation into Ambrose’s murder, including copies of your personal notes. I’ll be taking over and handling it personally.”

She frowned, a line forming between her gray eyebrows. “Liana, are you sure? You were on his team, and while you’ve been eliminated as a suspect, you aren’t exactly impartial.”

“I’m sure,” I told her, ignoring her complaints. I needed everything she had and more if I was going to find the people who’d killed my mother and Ambrose. I knew that the same people were behind it—it was the only thing that made sense—and I needed to find them. Not only because I wanted to know what they had done to Scipio, but also to punish them for what they did to my mother and Ambrose.

I couldn’t decide whether it helped or hurt that I was being blackmailed into doing it by Lacey Green, the head of the Mechanics Department, who was holding evidence that made it appear as if I had tampered with Scipio. Originally, the deal had just been for me to keep her cousin, Ambrose, safe, but when I had failed at that, I had promised that once I won the Tourney, I would do everything in my power to bring his killers to her for justice. And I still intended to do so.

I just wasn’t sure if anyone I found would make it back to her in one piece. I supposed I would have to make an effort to get her a few of the people who were responsible, just so she wouldn’t have me and my friends brought up on charges of terrorism. I really didn’t want to become public enemy number one again.

“Very well,” Astrid said after a long moment. “I’ll send them to you in a few minutes.”

“Thank you,” I replied. “Now, if you don’t mind… I’d like a little time alone in my new room.”

“Of course,” she replied with a nod. “Champion Castell, it has been my privilege to serve you.” She bent her head forward, offering a small bow, and then straightened. “Cornelius, the door?”

A door slid open to the right, and Astrid departed, leaving me blissfully and completely alone.