Interlude [h.s]

ninety-six

Alouette's eyes blink open at the ceiling of the Revolution's headquarters. For a moment she doesn't move, letting herself linger in the voices coming from the corridor, too muffled for her to hear what they're saying.

The room she's in is different, but it feels just like six months ago—the morning she left for the Palace. It's every bit as scary, but in a rational, reasoned way. There will be trouble, and something terrible might happen. She's been acting confidently for days, but she knows, deep down, the risk she's putting herself through by going. She's confident in her abilities, but she's also aware that, sometimes, skill matters little. There's nothing that guarantees she'll reach this evening alive. It's an odd feeling. Alouette knows she should be terrified, but she isn't. She feels resigned, in a way. She's been treading these dangerous edges for so many months that she wouldn't be surprised if she fell in, at last. It would make sense, in some heavenly retribution sort of way. Every bird needs to accept it'll inevitably fall in the moment it spreads its wings—that's the price to pay for learning to fly.

Alouette sits up with a sigh and glances around the room. Harry is sitting on the chair next to the bathroom door in a different but equally polished suit, and she has the sudden sensation he's been looking at her for a while. "What time is it?" she asks with a yawn, hiding her apprehension behind nonchalance.

"Eleven."

She gasps. "Eleven?! Why didn't you wake me up?!"

Harry shrugs. "I assumed you would be tired. It seems I was right."

Warmth runs to her face at his hint. They did get a little carried away, last night—she'll never look at a shower the same way again. And the bed she was sleeping on until a moment ago. And... She lets out a sound that's halfway through a gasp, a laugh and a scream and falls backwards on the mattress, hiding her face in her hands. She takes a deep breath, then another. She only speaks when she's sure she'll be able to look at him in the eyes without feeling overwhelming embarrassment. "Have you been up for long?"

"A few hours." His finger plays with a bunch of paper scraps on the desk at his side. "I had a last meeting with Ezra."

"Did you decide on anything new?"

Harry nods. "Your group will be the first in." Alouette's heart drops, but he explains. "I know it sounds scary, but you'll be safer that way. They're not expecting our attack—they will not be armed, not right away at least, and they will not be looking for intruders. That means you have the advantage."

Alouette sits up. "And what I..." Her voice dies out. "I mean, are we supposed to just..."

He takes a deep breath—it's not the first time they have this conversation. It's come up again and again in the past couple of days. "You don't have to concern yourself with any of that. You're going on behalf of the Revolution, Alouette. Focus on the Revolution's mission—to find the leader of the Shade—and let the Palace handle its end. The security of this country is our concern, not yours."

Alouette sighs. No matter how many times she thinks of it, she can never wrap her head around their plan. There wasn't enough time to prepare. There are so many things that could go wrong. She's been reviewing it day and night like she used to study when she was back in school, but she fears she'll forget it all in the instant she's in there. "So we get the leader. And..."

"You're not allowed to kill him. I want him alive," Harry reminds her, and she nods.

"We capture him. And we bring him out." Her belly grumbles. It's getting close to midday, and she hasn't even had breakfast. Embarrassment flashes through her, and she hopes Harry hasn't heard. "We make sure he doesn't escape."