“Wait . . . the Directorate School is sending us some interns?” Ebsa stared at the brief notice, appalled.
Ra’d was stretched out, feet up on the arm of the couch in the old warehouse assigned to their team. He laughed. “We can’t possibly get them into anymore trouble than we got thrown into at the same age. How many are they sending?”
“I don’t know . . . oh, here’s the list . . .” Ebsa sat at straighter. “Oh, One!”
Ra’d snorted and heaved himself off the couch. “What have they done to us this time . . . Oh. Aren’t those . . .”
“Xen Wolfson’s kids. I know Arno can do corridors, I don’t know about gates, yet. And Ryol . . . I don’t know the others, I don’t know if they’re also his or whatever. Umm . . . I’ll bet they’re sending them to us because we can get Nighthawk to help, if needed.”
“Or you. Two of them are your stepsiblings.”
“Holy One. Well, we can show them how analyzing newly discovered worlds work, make them use all the equipment, organize the data and analyze it.” Ebsa sat back with a sigh of relief. “No big deal, What could possibly go wrong?”
“Don’t say things like that.”
“Even though all six of them are your sisters- and brothers-in-laws?” Ebsa grinned.
“Well, being Nighthawk’s siblings I suppose that’s technically incorrect since witches don’t marry.” Ra’d leaned over his shoulder. “So, three women, three men. Let’s see what their files say about specialties.”