Alex Lidell - The Cadet of Tildor

Renee nodded. Seaborn was a Servant on active duty with birdies and connections in Catar, the Vipers’ stronghold. He could not have ignored the Crown’s call at a time like this. “Still, he could have written,” she said.

“He may have. The couriers have been . . . ” Sasha’s lips pressed together, warding off fresh tears. “We’ve had trouble with messages.”

Renee sensed it was time to shift the topic. “How did you learn of Palan’s hand in Savoy’s assignment?”

Sasha forced a smile. “Because Lys had a hand in that too.”

Renee frowned. “Since when does the king get involved in the field orders of a mere commander, even if it’s one as good as Savoy?”

“Since the leader of the Family offered to barter said orders for the location of a major Viper veesi shipment.” Sasha leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Verin and Lys had a row over it. Apparently Verin didn’t wish to do it, saying that Palan was manipulating the Crown into attacking the Family’s rival, and that allowing Palan to influence military assignments, no matter how minor, was a dangerous path to start on. Lys argued that removing veesi from Tildor’s streets and gold from a crime group’s purse had to be done, and that one man’s assignment mattered little on the larger scale.”

Renee nodded. “I’m with Lysian. Plus, the Family would have nabbed the veesi for itself otherwise.”

Sasha nodded. “Lys said that as well. He overruled Verin, had the Seventh take down the shipment, and cut orders for Savoy’s reassignment. What confuses me, though, is why. How does Savoy’s presence at the Academy benefit Palan?”

“I don’t know.” Renee shook her head. “In fact, I think it backfired—Diam’s kidnapper wanted Savoy to kill Palan in exchange for Diam’s life.” She paused. It was a mess. How had Lysian put it? A disease of crime . She thought back to the speech, the dais in the courtyard, Fisker yelling at Diam to clear the grass. It seemed an eternity ago. “You know, there is one person who despises Savoy and Palan both. Fisker.”

Sasha’s lips pressed together. “Palan is part of the Family—I understand Fisker’s grudge there. But why Savoy?”

Renee raised her hand, wiggling the finger Fisker was missing.

Sasha tipped her head back, then shook it. “No, no, I don’t see it.” She waved. “Oh, I believe there’s bad blood—that much was clear from the Queen’s Day fallout—but Fisker . . . Gods, you remember what he was like at the Academy? The man’s addicted to his notion of law like a veesi crony to the leaf. Yes, he’d pauper the treasury to track a pickpocket, but he wouldn’t arrange a kidnapping.”

Renee kept silent. Fisker attempted to lock a teenage Savoy in the dungeons and then saw him whipped as a consolation prize. He was capable of more than Sasha thought. But maybe her roommate was right—hurt pride was not reason enough for the guardsman to break a rule.

“Something else I found odd,” Sasha added, interrupting Renee’s thoughts. “Palan withdrew Tanil from the cadet roll shortly after you left.”

Renee hissed, her fists tightening in a renewed wave of fury. Cheating, dishonorable, Predator-betting Tanil. Then a thought struck her. “Could Tanil be behind the kidnapping?” she asked slowly, tilting her face to look at her friend. “He had little love for Savoy and might have expected to rise in the Family hierarchy if his uncle were dead. He knew enough from the fight at Rock Lake to separate Diam from Khavi.” The arrow in the wolf’s side had likely been Tanil’s first attempt to do so. “He had a Viper connection from all his Predator-betting to whom he could pass Diam, and it would serve him well to keep the sewage he was creating out of his backyard by having Diam shipped off to Catar.”

Sasha rubbed the back of her neck, looking past Renee. “And then Palan found out and removed Tanil from the Academy to address the treason?” She nodded, refocusing on Renee’s face. “Possible.”

“It still doesn’t explain why Palan wanted Savoy in Atham to begin with, though.” Renee paused for a moment, wondering which was worse—having the man who ordered her mother and Riley killed now in charge of the Family, or the vileness that was Tanil calling the shots. She sighed and looked out the window to check the sun’s position. If she wished to speak with Verin before the day’s end, she needed to go. “Shall we meet in the mess for dinner?” she asked, touching Sasha’s arm, then realized with chagrin that her mess hall privileges had ended when she quit school. “Or at a tavern?”

Sasha shook her head. “I’m tired,” she said, retreating to her bed.

Renee bit her lip. In a just world, she should have been able to stay.

As Renee closed the door, she saw her friend disappear beneath the covers, and sighed. Sasha had every right to be frightened no matter how much Renee wished it otherwise. And, although Renee knew she had exhausted what she could do for her friend right now, the weight of Sasha’s fear stayed with her.

Renee already had the Administrative Building in her line of sight when labored breathing alerted her to an approaching presence.

Turning to see who accosted her, Renee found herself looking at a well-dressed, sweaty-faced man. Dark eyes set deep in a fleshy face sparkled with intelligence. Her shoulders tensed as she bowed to the man who she had spoken much about, but never before spoken to . “Lord Palan. Good afternoon.”

“My lady.” Lord Palan fell in step beside Renee as if they had known each other for years. He gestured at the gathering clouds, but what he spoke of had little to do with weather. “Is the phrase ‘The enemy of my enemy is my ally’ familiar to you?”

She squinted at the graying sky. The leader of a major crime group did not approach sixteen-year-old ex-cadets with talk of alliances unless said ex-cadets had something he wanted. Renee rubbed the scar on her palm. Whatever she had was not for sale to her mother’s killer. “Your Family murdered mine, my lord. Are those words familiar to you?”

He blinked. “Yes, quite so. But they are not accurate in your case.” Palan rubbed his chins. “We’ve had no dealings with the de Winter estate besides collections for the road guards.”

Renee frowned. If the man was feigning surprise at the charge, he was doing it well. “My father spoke otherwise.”

“Hmm. When tragedy strikes, peace of mind is sometimes gained by believing an accident to be the work of evil. Although . . . ” Palan squinted in thought and unbuttoned the top of his jacket. The material was plain, but Renee could see the expensive tailoring and cut. The lord cared for his looks. “Before her death, did not the de Winter lands belong wholly to your lady mother?” He waved his hand as if casually accusing Lord Tamath de Winter of murder was nothing of consequence. Perhaps, to the leader of the Family, it wasn’t. “Forgive me. That implication was offensive and, I’m sure, baseless.” Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a folded sheet of parchment. “Now, a gesture of good faith.”

The shift in conversation shoved Renee off balance once more. Better to keep her mouth shut until the ground settled.

Palan made a show of adjusting his ring. “For the past year, your lord father has petitioned me for a contract for sale of wool and goat cheese. You know enough of my organization, I think, to predict that a contract with me has very little chance of failing to generate profits.”

She nodded. The nominal wool and cheese loads would carry veesi or perform another service for the Family. In either case, Lord Tamath would collect coin even if every de Winter goat died of colic. Renee found her father’s intentions disgusting, but, unfortunately, not surprising. “Why do you tell me of this?”