The Fever King (Feverwake #1)(117)

“You’re asking me to kill my own child.”

“I’m asking you to let him make that decision for himself.”

Noam turned toward him, squinting against the sunlight. Lehrer’s expression was blank, unreadable. He could have been a still frame from a propaganda film.

Then the fa?ade cracked, and Lehrer nodded. The lines of his face were sharper than ever as he said, “I promise.”

Noam wasn’t sure if he believed him. But for now he had no other choice.

“I almost went with him,” Noam confessed.

“I know. I’m glad you didn’t.” Lehrer tugged at his sleeves. Noam felt it in the metal when his touch grazed the silver cuff links. Lehrer said, almost wryly, “I also know you aren’t staying for me.”

Of course Noam wasn’t staying for him. Lehrer was every single reason for Noam to leave—to start running as far and fast as he could.

In all likelihood, by staying, Noam had signed his own death warrant. He knew about Lehrer’s persuasion; Lehrer knew that he knew. In the best possible scenario, Noam risked becoming Lehrer’s puppet even more than he already was. In another version of events, Noam wouldn’t live long enough to learn if Dara survived.

But how else could this end?

Noam wasn’t hiding. Not anymore.

“It’s not over just because you granted Atlantians citizenship,” Noam said.

Lehrer shook his head. “Far from it. I’d like to suggest you apply for Brennan’s position, as liaison. And in time . . . you graduate in two years. As chancellor, I’ll need people in my administration I can trust.”

A small smile creased Noam’s lips.

Good.

He wanted to be close to Lehrer, now more than ever. He had to make sure everything went smoothly. He had to be sure Lehrer, in his victory, didn’t forget who’d helped him achieve it.

Everything worth doing had its risks.

And sometimes you had to do the wrong thing to achieve something better.

Noam was willing to gamble with Lehrer’s persuasion if it meant securing a future for Atlantians. What kind of person would he be if he didn’t? He could take precautions.

Brennan’s blood on the wall.

He’d make sure Lehrer never forgot how useful Noam could be.

Lehrer’s hand found Noam’s back again, nudging him until he turned away from that horizon—until they faced the city again, the smokestack rising over the government complex in the near distance.

Dara was gone, but Noam was still here.

The war was over.

It was time to build something new.