Alex Lidell - The Cadet of Tildor

The underground network rivaled the city above in its complexity. Specks of blue glow shimmered at several junctures, betraying amulets tucked into the walls. The Crown could never afford such a setup, not with the materials and mage hours involved.

The corridor bent right again, this time revealing an alcove similar to the one they saw earlier. Metal bars stretched across the stone opening. Inside, a small blond boy hugged his knees, rocking himself with slow, shaking movements. The dirty blanket on which he sat was the cell’s only furniture.

“Diam!” Savoy sprinted to the bars.

The boy scrambled forward to the barred door. “Korish?” he whispered, as if unsure of what he was seeing. Then his eyes widened. “Korish. Korish!” he cried, certain that now he was here, Savoy would purge all evil from the world. Renee felt a pang. She used to think Riley omnipotent too.

She shook away memory’s shadow and returned to work examining the cell. She saw no lock, but a blue light shone around the door’s edges.

Savoy threw his weight against the bars. No result. He pulled. The metal doorframe remained immobile. He rubbed his shoulder and stepped back.

“I don’t like it here,” Diam said. Favoring his left side, he lowered himself to the floor.

“Neither do I.” Unsheathing his knife, Savoy traced the outlines of the metal door. He found the glowing amulet twisted into the metal and pounded against it with the hilt of his weapon. The knife vibrated on impact but made no dent in the construction. He glanced at Diam and pounded harder, the growing violence doing little beyond making a racket.

Renee touched his shoulder. “It’s not working.”

“And you know what would?” He shook her off. His hands jerked the bars.

A slide of white fur caught her attention. Looking down, she saw Khavi crouching. Diam sat on the floor beside him. Their gazes locked.

The hair on the back of her neck rose. “Savoy, move.” She caught his wrist and pointed at the pair.

The intensity growing between boy and dog dried her tongue. She stepped from them. Somewhere far away, footsteps ticked against the stone. Renee’s fingers tightened around Savoy’s wrist, whether to comfort herself or to keep him at bay, she did not know. Echoes of voices—many voices—joined those of footsteps, still too distant to discern. She opened her mouth to ask Diam about the coming patrols, but clamped it shut. Khavi shimmered with a pearly, blue glow.

“Gods,” Savoy whispered.

Renee gripped her arms. She knew what Khavi was, but knowing was as far from seeing as the tap of a wooden sword was from a knife in a man’s throat. Even now, watching the event unfold before her, she was unsure she believed, much less understood, its nature.

Khavi’s glow pulsated like a beating heart. The amulet’s light brightened in reply. Two mirrors feeding each other. The blue glow grew painful to watch, flared, and died.

Savoy jerked the cage door. It opened. Rushing inside, he put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Imp.”

“Korish!” Diam clamped skinny arms around Savoy’s waist. “What’s wrong with your hand?”

“I’ll tell you tonight.” He motioned Renee forward. They needed to stay ahead of the coming patrol. “Diam, there is another ward locking the exit. Can Khavi open it?”

“We’ll try.” The boy stumbled. Khavi’s tongue lolled from his exhausted muzzle.

Savoy sheathed his knife to scoop up his brother. They hurried back the way they came, staying ahead of the approaching footsteps.

They ran hard. The now familiar twists of the underground tunnels, the still-splayed bodies of the two guards, the lanterns lining the walls, all disappeared in a streak behind them. Renee had not expected they would get far. But they had.

Just not far enough.

Less than a hundred spans, a hundred running steps, to the exit remained when a horde of guards burst into the corridor behind them. Swords glimmered in the lantern light like fireflies in the night’s darkness. Even if they made it to the door, there was no time to disarm the ward.

Savoy’s jaw tightened. “Over there.” He pointed to a narrowing in the passage, twenty paces ahead. Thrusting Diam into Renee’s arms, he pulled his knife and herded them forward.

She sprinted for cover, Savoy’s footsteps tapping the stone behind her. Reaching the target, she lowered the boy to the ground and turned in time to see Savoy convert a rushing enemy into a human shield. He relieved his victim of a quiver and crossbow and leveled it at the oncoming wave.

Renee drew a breath. The corridor narrowed enough here to allow Savoy to block the passage. Realizing they could not approach en masse, the advancing guards slowed. Renee put a hand on Savoy’s back to guide him as he retreated toward the safety of the exit. He loaded the weapon while he moved. They had a chance. A small one, but a chance. She focused on that.

“Halt.” A voice boomed through the corridor.

The guards stopped.

Renee could not see who had spoken and continued moving until, from behind a wall of men, a ray of blue flame crept through the air. A mage.

Savoy’s arm extended the crossbow. His muscles tensed and an arrow shot into the crowd. Despite someone’s shout of pain the ray kept extending. Renee’s gut dropped. Savoy had guessed wrong.

The mage fire approached Savoy, cleared his head, and arched toward Diam.

Renee shoved the boy back and Khavi leaped into the air, throwing his body into the coming stream.

Diam screamed.

The dog, shimmering in a blue glow, fell to the floor and whimpered, continuing to absorb the mage’s assault.

“Fighter, toss the crossbow into the walkway,” the booming voice commanded. “Or I will kill your party.”

Savoy turned his head toward Renee. “He can’t.” His voice was calm, almost bored. “Get them out.”

Her fists tightened. What the mage couldn’t do was kill them all at the same time. Savoy had as much chance of holding the passage and escaping as she did of flying. “You can’t—”

“We came for Diam. Get it done or he’ll die.” Reaching into his boot, Savoy handed her the light sac. And then he turned around, reloaded the crossbow, and presented his chest to a bolt of blue flame.

A few heartbeats later, his body thudded down to the stone floor.

Back at Hunter’s Inn, Renee leaned against the wall, arms crossed over the front of her blood-soaked dress. The bureau on which Savoy liked to sit was empty. His sword hung by the door. Outside, it had started to rain, the drops pounding the window.

“We could speak to the governor.” Alec stared at his hands, which glowed and dimmed like flickering candles. Renee lacked energy to ask that he stop. “Tell him about the tunnels and—”

Seaborn shook his head, his gaze never wavering from the stormy window. “The governor bows to the Vipers. Korish would not survive if the Madam discovered his identity. Official help must come from Atham and the Seventh.”

Renee caught the hesitation in his voice, glanced at Diam, and knew he had heard it too. The Seventh would uproot the world to retrieve Savoy. But they could not bring back the dead.

“Korish is gonna come back for his sword.” Diam scrubbed his sleeve across his dirty face and limped to where his brother’s weapon hung on the wall.

Seaborn took down the sword and squatted next to Diam. “I think someone should take care of this for him.”

Diam grasped the hilt and wrestled the shining weapon into ready position. Savoy took care of his tools. “It’s heavy.” The blade’s tip brushed the floor. Diam’s lips pressed together. Then, jerking his chin up, he thrust the hilt toward Renee. “You take it.”