Lehrer’s slim fingers undid the first several buttons at his collar. Rolled up his sleeves to the elbow. “I’m told you’ve been preaching some interesting ideas in Little Atlantia. Ideas that are ... let’s say,incongruentwith the narrative we mutually agreed upon.”
Shit.
It wasn’t like Noam didn’t think Lehrer would hear about all that. But maybe he kind of ... hoped he wouldn’t, anyway.
He lifted his water bottle, screwed off the cap, and took a desperate swallow. His throat stayed raw.
“Yeah,” he said after a long beat. “About that ...”
He didn’t know what to tell Lehrer. He was too—he’dpreparedsomething to say, but all those words had flown out of his head, chased off by the fever-pitch fear of standing here in front of Lehrer, Lehrer’s anger like magic glinting in his pale eyes.
Lehrer stepped closer. Stopped two paces away, near enough Noam could see each individual strand of his hair.
“I’m waiting, Noam.”
Noam fumbled to get the cap back on his water bottle. “I’m sorry,” he said belatedly. “I don’t ... I know it’s not what we talked about. But this—the whole story line about waiting, accepting what help we’re given—it’s nottrue, Calix. We both know that.”
“And so you willingly undermined our plans,” Lehrer said softly, “because you didn’t ...personally... believe in our message.”
Noam twisted the cap on his bottle again, on-off, on-off—Lehrer made an exasperated sound and snatched the bottle out of his grasp, tossing it aside violently enough it burst, spilling water all over the vinyl floor.
“Answer me.”
Noam took in a shallow breath, tilted his chin up even though every instinct told him to tuck his face down, retreat like a scared baby deer. “I couldn’t do it. I can’t say those things. It’s not—I don’t have itinme. You—”
“I what?”
“You know that about me,” Noam finished, but it came out quiet, vulnerable. A childish plea.
Lehrer didn’t blink. Didn’t move. It was as if some switch inside him had shut off, the man in front of Noam as cold and soulless as a machine.
A slow bead of sweat cut down Noam’s spine.
Then—at last, the moment cracking like thin ice—Lehrer turned away, pacing toward the other end of the room.
“I don’t have time for this,” Lehrer said. “Let’s spar.”
Noam didn’t even have a moment to prepare.
Lehrer’s first burst of magic snapped across the space between them like a bolt of lightning. Noam deflected it right in time to see it detonate against the wall to his back, soot like a black star against the paint.
The second followed almost instantly on its tail, the floor quaking underfoot; Noam stumbled, flinging out electromagnetism to keep his balance—and that was all the hesitation Lehrer needed to close the distance. Noam’d managed to blink the stars from his eyes, to reach for his own offensive play, when he glanced up, and Lehrer wasthere, he wasright—there—and Noam shoved his knee up toward Lehrer’s stomach too late.
The blow hit him on the cheekbone, powerful enough Noam stumbled back three paces. His skin was blazing with pain; he launched a volley of electricity back at Lehrer, but Lehrer tossed it away like a discarded cloak. Lehrer’s long strides consumed the short space between them once more.
Noam lifted his arm against his face in a defensive posture in time for Lehrer’s hook to catch his wrist, skipping away from his face.
Noam jabbed his foot forward, trying to propel Lehrer back, but Lehrer was too fast. He grabbed Noam’s ankle and yanked him off balance, sending Noam crashing to the floor hard enough his breath whooshed from his lungs in one fell beat.
Fuck—fuck, Lehrer was—
Weakwas the last word that could describe Lehrer now.
Noam’s magic had gone dumb and useless, a blunt weapon—all he could sense was electricity, magnetism, as if every other ability had abandoned him right when he needed them most. He clung to those, tried to—
If he could sense the electrical signals in Lehrer’s heart, or his brain, he could—
His power slipped off Lehrer like oil on water. Lehrer kicked him in the ribs, hard enough Noam cried out, curling forward reflexively to protect his organs. He flung out one hand, clawing at Lehrer’s leg, trying to get purchase to—to what? To drag Lehrer down, or himself up, or—he didn’t know, and Lehrer wasn’t giving him time to think. The attacks came too fast, almost as if they weren’t even in succession anymore—like Lehrer was somehow using more than one kind of magic at once: electricity but also strength but also something else, a pain unlike anything Noam had ever felt in his life. Fire chased down wires inside him, a conflagration of his—
