Alex Lidell - The Cadet of Tildor

“In there.” Den pushed the handle.

She faked a smile and moved past him. Then stopped. The thick rug on the floor and a bench with scented candles said the small room was meant for visitors who paid to enjoy the fighter’s company. Inside, Savoy knelt on the floor, his hands tied uncomfortably high to a ring in the wall. He was still shirtless from the fight, with drawstring pants hanging on his hips. Green eyes betrayed no sign of recognition. Den loosened the ropes—enough to give Savoy some movement while permitting Renee to step out of his reach, should she wish to.

“I promise not to damage him,” she told Den, glancing pointedly from him to the door. Her heart pounded in her ears. “Will you untie him for me?”

A hint of surprise flickered across Den’s face, but he schooled it away and complied. “Call out if you need anything.”

Savoy massaged his shoulders and stared at the man’s receding back until the door closed with a click. His eyes flowed to Renee. She thought she caught a momentary warmth in his gaze, but if it was there, it disappeared in a blink. He did not smile.

“Commander—”

He put a finger to his lips, cutting her off. “Cat. And you shouldn’t be here.”

She hugged her arms to her chest and lowered her voice to match his. “Neither should you.” It wasn’t the reception she’d imagined. She took a step toward him, and Savoy stood. Exhaustion shadowed his face and he favored his right knee when rising, likely a souvenir from his fight. It had to be bad if he let her see it. She avoided looking down, pretending not to notice the limp. She could not, however, ignore the leather bands on his wrists or the fading welts covering his back and shoulders, crisscrossing the ones Verin’s old discipline had left. Her hand reached out toward him but she stayed its course, sensing he did not wish to be touched. She could do that much for a friend. “Are you well, then?”

Savoy followed her gaze and turned to hide his back from view. “Not my first beating. Nor last.” He sighed. “That is a hazard of being me. I also happen to be alive, which trumps other details. Agreed?”

She nodded. “How do we get you out of here?”

“You don’t.” He braced his hand on the wall beside her head and bore down with his gaze. “You stay clear. Understood?”

“You are in a poor position to issue orders.”

He grasped her shoulders and twisted her roughly toward the western wall. “That way are cells they call barracks. Is that where you wish to be? Or do you imagine Vipers make use only of boys and men?” He looked pointedly at the candles and rug.

She stepped away and turned to him. Her life was hers to risk, but there was no reason to add more weight to his conscience. She would do what she must. “No, of course not. A captured rescuer would be of little help.”

His brows tightened in suspicion.

Renee hurried on. Better to keep her words confined to truths. “I will go to Atham and inform Verin of your exact location. Seaborn’s already there, laying the groundwork.” Although gods know what’s keeping him. “Is there something else I might do?”

Approaching footsteps echoed down the corridor. Savoy looked at the door and spoke quickly. “Diam?”

“Healthy. He misses you. He’ll be safe with Alec while I’m gone.”

The steps grew louder. Savoy nodded. “The man who brought you here is named Den. If I had to trust someone here, it would be him. Not yet, though. If—”

The door swung open to admit Jasper. The boy’s smile dissolved to alarm. “Gods, how did he get loose? Are you all right, Renee?” He came up beside her and extended his hand toward Savoy.

Savoy retreated. His shoulders hunched defensively and Renee’s heart squeezed at the sudden paleness of his face. A blue glow sparked at the tips of Jasper’s fingers and Savoy’s wrists twisted behind his head, as if the leather bracelets overpowered twisting muscle.

Something felt very wrong, like a bow straining in the distance, arrow poised. “Jasper?” Renee touched the boy’s shoulder, hoping her voice betrayed nothing of her thumping pulse. “I . . . I want to leave. Will you lead me out, please?”

For an instant she feared he’d refuse and the bow would loose its arrow, but he nodded at her and held open the door. Her shoulders relaxed and she preceded him out. Just before the door closed, Jasper paused to bid Savoy farewell.

And Savoy flinched.

After the arena, Renee stopped at Hunter’s Inn only long enough to check on Diam. She needed Alec, and there was no point in looking for him at the inn anymore. She hugged Diam and, by silent agreement, said nothing about his brother’s fate.

“A message came for you,” Diam said, unburying himself from her shoulder. He extended a strip of paper he’d been clutching, unabashed at having read Renee’s mail.

She unrolled the strip and read its single word. Palan. Written in Sasha’s hand. Renee’s skin crawled.

Diam slid down and peered at the ink. “What about Uncle Palan?”

“I asked Sasha to discover who was responsible for your brother’s assignment to the Academy this year.” She tossed the paper into the fire. “Why do you call him Uncle, Diam?”

The boy shrugged. “’Cause he asked me to.”

Renee frowned. Why in the Seven Hells would the head of the Family do that ? She shook her head. Time enough to worry about it later. For now, she had to be off to Zev’s.

Renee pounded the door with more abuse than the aging wood warranted.

The door opened. Letting her inside, Alec marked his place in a book with his finger and looked over his shoulder. “Sorry, Master Zev, no more visitors, I promise.”

“Mmm,” Zev grumbled, sparing a nod for Renee before frowning at Alec. “Did you pick up the tea, boy, as I asked?”

Alec winced. “No, sir. Renee and I can go now, though.”

Renee stiffened.

Zev waved his hand and limped out. “Never you mind. I will buy it myself.”

Instead of sighing in relief, Alec blushed and frowned at the closing door. “He’s just saying that. We should fetch it.”

Enough. She stepped into his line of sight. “Quit worrying about tea. Jasper . . . ” She stopped. The words she expected to pour out refused to do so. She had never seen Savoy afraid. “Your friend Jasper, he’s—he’s a Viper.”

Alec leaned against the wall. “Yes, I know.”

Her eyes widened.

“I thought you knew. Most everyone in Catar is a Viper.” He rubbed his face. “Did something happen?”

“I found Savoy.”

Alec froze, then sat on the floor, pulling her down beside him. The scent of sweet spice, like Zev’s, drifted from his shirt.

Leaning against him, she started at the beginning. The words tumbled out now, detailing the arena, the fights, the meeting in the carpeted room. “I think Jasper is hurting him,” she said at last, resting her forearms against her knees. “I cannot explain it otherwise.”

An impatient sigh rose beside her. “Being a mage doesn’t make him evil, Renee,” Alec bit out. “Just because you can’t do something doesn’t mean those who can are diseased. You said it yourself—the man had welts. That isn’t mage work.”

Renee’s eyes narrowed. “You saw Grovener cut an arrow from him, Alec. Savoy isn’t afraid of bruises. You didn’t see . . . ” She shook her head and sat upright. Alec hadn’t seen, and her proof amounted to analyzing pallor. She breathed evenly to douse the fire in her blood. “I never called Control a disease. But it’s not an assurance of virtue either. Will you agree that we each know too little about Jasper to judge his integrity?” She thanked the gods when Alec nodded. “All right. If a mage, some mage, was hurting Savoy, could he shield himself?”