Ember's eyes went wide and she gripped the edge of the desk so hard that she hurt herself. Whoever was out there seemed to have stopped a few doors away. An officer who had forgotten something in their office? Was there a chance that they would notice Oblam's open door and decide to check if everything was okay?

Ferun moved first, with a quickness Ember could only dream of: she grabbed her wrist and pulled her behind the desk. The two of them crouched on the floor. Close together. A little too close.

Sergeant's scent of cherry and leather was strong. Ember tried to focus on that rather than the mad pounding of her heart or her trembling hands.

In the dim light, only one side of Ferun's face was clearly visible. The other was hidden, like a dark mask. Like the dark side of the moon. The Sergeant put a finger to her lips as footsteps echoed down the corridor again, coming closer and closer.

Ember covered her mouth and nose with one hand. Every single breath that came out of her sounded louder than drums. Her eyes fell on the Sergeant's neck, and for a moment she thought about sinking her face into it, letting the skin muffle her breaths. It only made her more agitated.

The unknown presence entered the office. The canaries let out high-pitched chirps and fluttered their wings as if mad. Ember avoided looking at them and closed her eyes. Why couldn't that damned Oblam keep a less horrible animal? Like a hamster. Hamsters were cute.

Whoever the intruder was, they approached the cage and banged on it with a little too much force. It rocked, and the poor canaries chirped.

Love for animals didn't seem to be their greatest quality.

Ember squeezed closer to the Sergeant without realizing it, trying to hide from the intruder's gaze. Ferun put a hand on her back and pulled her close. Ember almost fell on top of her.

The person stopped in front of the office cabinet, grabbed something, and slammed it down on the desk. The rustling of papers was almost deafening. They stood there for about ten seconds, then turned on the light and the room instantly lit up. Ember tightened her eyelids, her retinas too sensitive after all this time in the dark.

The intruder resumed leafing through the papers as calmly as ever. Had they found anything interesting? Hardly, considering that it was stuff Ferun had discarded, and that possible evidence of treason - or who knew what else - lay under the Sergeant's arm. Still, the intruder went through page after page, as if they were searching for something, not afraid of being discovered.

It could not be Oblam, that much was obvious. Even the reaction of the canaries had been disproportionate.

It couldn't be Oblam, that was obvious. The canaries' reaction was also disproportionate.

But who then? Another officer? And why were they wasting time reading reports instead of making sure no one was there?

They had waited a long time. So long that Ember's feet fell asleep. She tried to move them a little, just enough to get her circulation going again. Blood coursed through her veins, bringing with it a myriad of pawing ants. She grabbed the fabric of her pants and squeezed hard to hold back a moan.

Ferun noticed her discomfort. She pressed a hand to her lips to keep her quiet. Ember found herself with her head against the Sergeant's chest, soft and firm at the same time. She could die happy now.

Finally, the intruder left.

They turned off the light behind them and walked down the corridor to the west wing exit. Not a single breath, not a single sigh, nothing. Even recognizing their gender was impossible.

Both waited until they were sure the intruder was gone. Then Ferun stood up. Ember imitated her, sinking her teeth into her lip from the tingling in her feet and the burning from the wound in her leg. She looked like crap, like an Ysnian wreck.

"I didn't see that coming." The Sergeant patted the remaining papers on the desk. They were even more of a mess than they had left them. "Looks like we're not the only ones investigating Oblam."

Ember tapped the floor lightly with her toes to get the circulation going again. "What if it was Alpes? He was the last one out of here and he looked strange."

Do you really believe that or are you just testing the waters for the thousandth time?

Ferun gave her an intense look. "He was with me when Oblam dismissed the problem," she said. But then she shook her head. "But Alpes is not the type to do that. He prefers to maintain harmony, he hates conflict with all of himself."

The Sergeant's tone was almost disgusted, as if she thought Alpes was a spineless man. Ember nodded, and maybe she should've been glad to know once and for all that there was nothing between them, but instead she only felt worse. Ferun despised people who ran away from conflict.

She despises you.

"It doesn't matter now. Let's go before someone else comes." Ferun started to leave.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Wait!" At Ember's call, the other stopped and gave her a questioning look. "Um, it would be better to put things back first. Otherwise Oblam might suspect something."

"We weren't the only ones who came here."

"No. But the mess is still a clue that could lead to us."

After a moment's thought, the Sergeant sighed and gave in. "All right, but let's get a move on."

Ember had a photographic memory. A quality that had saved her from a lot of gaslighting before she arrived at the Academy. It was easy for her, after a few tries, to figure out where to put each misplaced item. When she was sure she had achieved a decent result, she followed the Sergeant out of the room. She reconnected the red cable to allow the electromagnetic energy to flow to the door.

Ferun escorted her to her own office. Compared to Oblam's, it was tidier. A few books with worn covers stood on the shelves, supported by trophies. A few medals hung on hooks on the wall. The desk was empty. There were no canaries or birds of any kind either, which was surely good news.

A clean scent hung in the air, mixed with the usual typical Sergeant's smell. Were it not for the slightly chilly atmosphere, Ember would have thought she wanted to move in, sleep in the chairs and be lulled by the tidiness.

Ferun put the stolen file back on the desk. "Sit down," she told her in a lower, calmer tone than usual.

Ember took a seat in front of her.

"You've been very helpful." A formal compliment, but a compliment nonetheless. Ember felt her lips curl into a half-smile, her chest swelling with pride.

She's just saying that to make you happy, dummy.

She immediately deflated her chest like a punctured balloon. "Thank you, Sarge," she murmured without conviction.

Ferun nodded, but seemed distracted. Frowning, she ran her fingertips along the edge of a drawer. Despite her icy demeanor, she had a delicate, almost refined touch. There was an elegance to her movements. "Someone's been here," she said after a while.

Ember tilted her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"This drawer should be locked." Ferun opened the drawer with a smooth movement. It gave way easily without the need for a key. "Someone opened it."

"Are you sure you didn't forget to close it?"

A stupid question, and Ember regretted saying it as soon as the other glared at her. "No, I'm sure I closed it."

Ember imagined the intruder from earlier, who, before joining them in Oblam's office, had stopped here and rifled through the Sergeant's things. A heat rose in her face and she clenched her fists in sudden anger. "Do you think they were here, too?"

"Probably." Ferun huffed, her back slumping against the chair. She closed the offending drawer and rested her chin on the back of her hand, her legs crossed. A perfect blend of comfort, strength and elegance.

Ember swallowed and focused on her own hands in her lap. She twisted her fingers without mercy. Like a fly, she thought, and that made her nose wrinkle in disgust.

"We have to be careful. It turns out the traitor might not be the only person we have to watch out for," Ferun said.

"Unless the one from before was indeed the traitor and they were looking for something."

"It talks about 'agreements accepted' and 'troops moved'. There's not much more, it's all very cryptic." The Sergeant clucked her tongue, piqued. "That damn tea drinker."

Ember barely smiled, but it lasted a split second. She should have bothered to figure out the meaning of those words, but the truth was that neither of them had enough clues. 'Agreements accepted' could have meant anything from a secret alliance with the Ysnians to a smooth negotiation for tea leaves.

What are you still doing here? Can't you see you're bothering the Sergeant? Get lost.

However, leaving the office without being dismissed would have been considered disrespectful. So that thought was meaningless. If she wanted her out, Ferun would have just told her. But as always, it was impossible to get rid of her father's idiotic and annoying little voice.

She stood in silence for a long time. She had several scratches on her wrist. As soon as she noticed, she stopped scratching, but it was too late: the skin had turned scarlet. She hid her arm and covered it with the other.

Ferun closed the file with a sigh. Judging by her expression, she had not found anything useful. She tossed the file into the drawer and locked it. Then she shifted her torso across the desk towards Ember. Devoting her full attention. "Is something wrong?"

Ember's throat was dry and parched. She tried to swallow to make it better, but all she felt was a barbed ball stuck in her windpipe. She could have told her anything. Confessed to those sparkling blue eyes every single mental dilemma that plagued her.

Do you want to show her how pathetic you are?

The thought tensed her muscles like violin strings. No, she couldn't. The Sergeant wasn't paid to listen to her cadets' complaints.

"I'm just still a little upset about what happened earlier," she finally said.

There was a moment of silence between them. They looked at each other, and for a moment Ember thought the other could see the truth. That she could clearly see each and every doubt that plagued her. Breathing became difficult for her.

But then Ferun leaned back in her chair. "I understand. Try to be careful, whoever it was, it could get dangerous." A sigh. "If you see or hear anything suspicious among your comrades, don't hesitate to tell me."

"Of course, Sarge."

Ferun waved a hand in the air. "You can go now."

Ember reached the door and leaned her hand against the frame as it opened. She hesitated. What if she had given in and asked the Sergeant for an opinion? Just one? Just a reassurance?

She will tell you the truth. Which is that you are a pathetic, deluded girl and you had better go home. Is that what you really want to hear? From her of all people?

No. No, she wouldn't. She wouldn't take it.

So, with one claw gripping her heart in a death grip, she could only find the courage to mutter, "Good night, Sarge."