"Sounds like you're asking me to spy on our own people," Drifter replied. "I'm a lot of things, but I ain't a snitch."

He leaned back and crossed his arms, eyeing Chalco over the remnants of a now-cold dumpling lunch.

Chalco suppressed an eye roll. As much damage as he left in his wake, the Drifter's ego was surprisingly fragile. She would have to handle the rogue Lightbearer with a delicate touch.

"I'm asking you to look out for their well-being," the Hidden operative replied. "Sloane's as tough as they come, but there's no precedent for being half-Taken. We don't know what the long-term effects might be."

"And as far as Eris goes…" Chalco let the thought hang. Drifter had no doubt already calculated the potential consequences of her accumulated trauma.

"Of course I'm gonna look after 'em," Drifter groused. "But that ain't what you're asking, is it?"

"I'm asking you to keep me in the loop," Chalco replied. "Neither one of them is great at asking for help. And we don't want to find out too late that we could have done more."

Chalco took a sip of tea, shrewdly calculating the social dynamics from behind her mask of concern. As a member of the Hidden, she was more than capable of keeping tabs on Eris and Sloane herself. But the Drifter was a volatile element, who could unthinkingly make a bad situation worse. She needed his complicity.

"Just… let me know what we can do to help," Chalco continued. "Will you do that?"

Drifter grumbled. As much as he hated to admit it, the idea of a safety net was appealing.

"Fine," he relented. "I'll let you know if anything comes up, on two conditions: first, stay out of our way."

"And second?" Chalco prompted.

Drifter stood up and stuffed the last two dumplings in the pocket of his tunic.

"Lunch is on you."