Julian considered his words carefully. Too much honesty and Sloan would retaliate. Not enough and Sloan would think he could sway him.
“Truthfully, sir, I’ve lost my taste for the fight. I want to see what else is out there. I’d like to find something that doesn’t require back-breaking violence.”
“If we don’t do this, who will?” Sloan asked hotly. “Who out there can protect the world, if not us?”
“I don’t know, sir, but I don’t think it’s my responsibility to find that answer. It’s a worthy cause, for sure. I just know that I don’t want to sacrifice my entire life for it. Not anymore.”
Sloan shook his head in disappointment. “Father Hawley would be ashamed.”
Julian’s lips parted in shock, but he quickly ducked his head to hide the extent of it. He didn’t know what had happened between Isaac Morrow and Father Hawley, but the fact that Sloan would use Hawley’s memory as a weapon surprised him more than it probably should.
“I just want to live my life on my own terms, sir.”
“The only reason you have the life you do right now is because of this guild,” Sloan said sternly. “You owe it to us, to God, for blessing you in so many ways. You would have grown up in foster care without us. We taught you right from wrong. We imparted the wisdom of Christ’s teachings. We taught you how to protect the innocent. And you’d throw all of that away on some fanciful idea? To do anything less is pure selfishness. Youcare more about your own wants and desires than the greater good.”
That grated, too, but Julian knew better than to rise to the bait. It wasn’t really about his own desires; he just wanted to get away from people like Sloan who had damaged the guild so badly from within. He didn’t dare say as much aloud, though. He didn’t trust Sloan not to throw him in the dungeon indefinitely to keep him from leaving.
Sloan went on. “The grass isn’t always greener on the other side, Paladin Heroux. The world beyond our walls is a dark and frightening thing.”
Julian swallowed back all the furious retorts waiting to spill off the tip of his tongue. Getting angry wouldn’t get him what he wanted. He had to stay calm and logical. “I’m aware, sir,” he said carefully. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take. If I fail, so be it. Maybe that’s God’s will, also.” He sighed, as though bracing himself. “Maybe this is part of His plan. Maybe I need to go out into the world and see how awful it is. And when I come crawling back, not only will you be able to say ‘I told you so,’ but you’ll be able to use me as an example to others. Maybe then no one else will ever want to leave. If that’s how this is meant to play out, I’m happy to do my part.”
Sloan studied him for a long, hard moment, and then stood. Hope leaped in Julian’s chest, and he started to stand, as well, but Sloan waved him back down.
“Stay, Paladin Heroux. Before I sign off on this resignation, I have a few more things for you to do. First of which is a medical evaluation.”
“What?”
Sloan stood at his full, towering height, looking down his nose at him. “To be certain that you’re in a good state of health and your mental state isn’t compromised in any way. The lastthing we want is to find out you made this decision under some kind of medical duress.”
“I’m not under any duress,” Julian said, shaking with the effort of keeping calm. “I just want togo.”
“And you can,” Sloan replied, his cool gaze glittering with triumph, “after Doctor Maxwell clears your physical and mental faculties.”
He left without another word, and Julian stared at the table in front of him, his jaw tight. They had no intention of letting him leave. Maxwell would declare him unfit, Sloan would deny his resignation, and they would force him to keep working for them. He was sure of it.
Maybe he wouldn’t have any choice but to run like the others did. But then they would see him as an enemy. All he wanted was a clean break.
He didn’t look up when the door opened a second time, nor when Maxwell sat down with a sigh across from him. He laid a clipboard and manila file on the table between them. When he finally raised his gaze, Maxwell was looking at the door as it fell shut. They were alone.
Maxwell didn’t speak at first. The lighting here made the wrinkles on his brown face stand out in sharp relief. He adjusted his wire-framed glasses on his nose, shifted in his seat, and fixed the collar of his white coat. Finally, he threaded his fingers together on the table atop his clipboard and met Julian’s eyes.
“Years ago,” he said softly, “I was asked to evaluate a child that had been brought to the guild. It wasn’t atypical, because I do all the physicals here, kids and adults alike, as you know, and I do their intake examinations as well. But this time was different, because the commander at the time, Commander McLeod, told me what he wanted that file to say before I even saw the child.”
Julian frowned. Where was this going?
Maxwell passed a hand over his mouth. “I was young. I hadn’t been here long, and Commander McLeod made it clear what he expected. So I evaluated, and I wrote down what I was told to. Two years later, McLeod retired and left Sloan in charge, and I watched that boy chafe under his and Hawley’s command for twenty years… until the day he finally had a reason to fight back. He killed Hawley, and God help me, I think this place is better off without him.”
Shock thrummed down Julian’s spine. He looked over at the door to make sure it was still closed. If Sloan overheard this, they’d both be killed.
“I’m telling you this so you understand,” Maxwell said. “I don’t want to be responsible for more death, and I want you to know you can tell me the truth. Why do you want to leave the guild?” He pointedly set his ink pen down, conveying that he wouldn’t be writing Julian’s answer down.
Julian swallowed hard. It was a struggle to force the words out, but he longed to actually say them aloud to someone who would understand. “I didn’t sign up to watch my friends be whipped in the courtyard for daring to disagree with the leadership,” he croaked. “None of you deserved that.”
Maxwell softened.
“I wanted to help people, but it seems like all we’re doing these days is hurting instead. I just don’t want to be a part of it anymore.”
The doctor nodded. “I understand.” He picked up his pen. “I’m going to ask you some questions. Answer them as honestly as you can. Let’s begin. During the past week, how much time would you say you felt sad or depressed?”
