The Fever King (Feverwake #1)(47)
“Good boy,” Lehrer murmured, smiling at Wolf. “You can pet him, if you like.”
Noam moved forward, feeling a little awkward acting like this in Lehrer’s house, like he belonged here, could stand so close to Lehrer with Lehrer still in his dress grays and bend over to stroke Lehrer’s dog. He did it anyway. Wolf’s attention latched on to him almost immediately, hot tongue lapping at the underside of Noam’s wrist.
Bizarre, to know Lehrer had killed that bird—twice, just to teach Dara a lesson—and yet he could be so gentle with Wolf. So affectionate.
“He’s beautiful,” Noam said, glancing over at Lehrer, who watched with those silver eyes. Noam always felt uneasy to discover himself directly in Lehrer’s focus when he didn’t realize he was being observed.
“Yes,” Lehrer said, “he is. And he likes you. He doesn’t like everyone.” Lehrer pushed off the floor, rising back to his full height. He held out a hand, palm up, and before Noam could blink, a leash and collar were in his grasp that hadn’t been just a second earlier. “Sit, Wolf,” he said. The collar attached itself around the dog’s neck, aluminum tags clinking as Wolf shook his head.
“Let’s go,” Lehrer said, to Noam as much as to the dog.
They headed back through the outer study, Wolf trotting happily at Lehrer’s side all the way out into the main corridor. It was empty, as Noam had come to expect, but there was life downstairs once they’d exited the stairwell out onto the ground floor. People kept giving Noam these looks, like they thought he wasn’t important enough to walk with the defense minister.
“Courtyard?” Lehrer suggested, and Noam nodded.
The courtyard was every bit as lovely as it had been that night with Dara and the bourbon. The spring air was a cool rush on Noam’s face as soon as they stepped out onto the flagstones, chilling the nape of his neck and ruffling through his hair. Beside him, Lehrer turned his face toward the sky.
“I prefer winter,” Lehrer mused. Wolf walked at a measured pace by Lehrer’s heel, not trying to rush ahead the way Noam had seen other dogs do. “Summer’s too humid and muggy. Before the catastrophe it was far worse than it is now. Say what you will about the nuclear option, but it certainly improved the weather forecast.”
The history books had always seemed remarkably sparse on foreign relations details, unless you counted making it clear the US had been evil. Lehrer was the only person left who could answer any question Noam threw at him.
“Why didn’t the rest of the world keep bombing North America after the catastrophe was over?” Noam asked Lehrer. “Surely they were motivated to wipe out Carolinia before it was even founded. They hated you.”
“Oh yes,” Lehrer said, shooting Noam an amused glance. “They tried. I deflected the first bomb into the Atlantic and told them the next would find its way back where it came from.”
Deflected a nuclear bomb.
Lehrer, at age nineteen, deflected a nuclear bomb.
It shouldn’t be shocking, not after what Noam saw Lehrer do today. Resurrection, even if partial resurrection, was completely unfathomable. In fact, Noam was pretty sure his theory books had said it was outside the ability of magic.
Someone really did need to update those books.
They meandered along the perimeter of the courtyard under the trees, still bare from winter. The chill settled into Noam’s bones the longer they stayed outside. For his part, Lehrer barely seemed to notice the unseasonable cold; his bare hand only loosely grasped the handle of Wolf’s leash, skin unmottled.
“You’re doing well,” Lehrer said at last, after Noam started wondering if Lehrer planned to say anything at all. “Your progress in our lessons has been exponential, and Colonel Swensson tells me you are succeeding in your classes with him. Starting tomorrow, you’ll join your peers in regular course work.”
Noam ought to have been relieved—finally, he was good enough to be done with remedial lessons—but he felt like something heavy had dropped into his stomach.
No more lessons with Lehrer. That was what this meant.
He was normal now, no different from any of the rest. He’d go to basic training, then lectures on engineering and war strategy and law, then do his homework in the common room next to Bethany and Taye and Ames, and graduate when he turned eighteen. Then he’d join the army or be filed into some bureaucratic position to serve his country from behind a desk.
And this connection to Lehrer, this opportunity to find out if Lehrer might sympathize with Brennan, might aid the cause, would disintegrate.
“Of course,” Lehrer went on, “you’ll still have your private lessons with me.”
Noam startled, jerking his head up to look at Lehrer so fast it earned a low laugh on Lehrer’s part.
“Oh yes. I have no intention of abandoning our sessions. In fact, I think we should start sparring soon. You have such impressive dynamics, Noam—and, like me, you are remarkably intelligent despite a paucity of formal education. It would be criminal not to take advantage.”
A wave of heat lit Noam’s cheeks. He shouldn’t be so thrilled by Lehrer’s attention. Lehrer was the means to an end, nothing more.
And then there was the matter of whatever Lehrer had planned for Noam, those secrets he kept cryptically hinting at. Was it connected to Dara and what Dara had been up to in the government complex? Only it hadn’t seemed like Lehrer and Dara were working together.