Alex Lidell - The Cadet of Tildor

He surveyed the ground before descending. The Vipers gathered there had stopped shouting and now stood calmly on the sand below. One of them, a tall, icy blonde he had never met, bounced an amulet in her hand. A sudden cold seized him as he glanced down at his waistband.

His amulet had fallen. It was all for naught.

“All right, Cat,” the woman called. “Even if you sprint for the exit, you can’t unlock the door. Take a breath and slide down now.”

On the ground, he awaited his captors. They arrived at his side within moments and clutched his arms. A weedy mage energized Savoy’s binds, which obediently pulled together. He clipped a leash to the restraints and patted Savoy’s shoulder. “Easy, boy.” He yelled for a towel and another lead rope.

The blonde with the amulet stood rod-straight, puffing a thin roll of tobacco into the crowd encircling her. She watched the white, perfect rings of smoke as if they carried infinitely more importance than the people whose gazes beheld her. Beside her, a mousy man with paper and pen hung on her words. “. . . not a day without disaster,” the woman said, her white teeth vivid in the lantern light. “Let us see what he has to say for himself.”

Savoy drew himself to attention and stepped toward the woman.

The mage holding the leash pulled gently. “Shhhh, easy now,” he repeated over and over until Savoy realized that it wasn’t him being hauled front and center.

It was Jasper.

“What, might I ask, is the meaning of this?” the woman demanded, glaring at the pale-faced boy. His disheveled hair and clothes suggested he’d been roused from sleep. A trickle of sweat slithered down his temple. The woman inhaled her tobacco stick and continued. “Are you incapable of keeping a rein on a handful of collared pups?”

“H-h-he found an amulet,” Jasper stammered. His hands gripped his pants, and his eyes sought refuge in the ground. Savoy had dressed down enough recruits to know the look.

“He is a pup!” The edge in the woman’s voice could cut steel. “It’s your job to make sure he doesn’t find an amulet, or break his neck, or choke on mashed turnips. Look at this bloody mess.” She jerked her head toward Savoy, who continued bleeding despite the weedy man’s attentions with towel and bandages.

“I’ll clean him up.” Jasper’s voice trembled.

“You bet your useless pig brain you’ll clean him up. And that’s the last new pup you’ll see either, since you can’t be bothered to care for them.” The woman shook her head and turned her disgusted look on Savoy.

He stared back, shoulders square.

“You wish to reassign the pup, ma’am?” asked the small man with the notebook. “Blue team, perhaps? A seasoned keeper there.”

“No, no.” She sighed, then continued with quiet resignation, “Once they get this far, there’s no taming them. Escape attempt, with an amulet no less? Imagine the liability! No, I’m afraid my son ruined this one beyond repair.” She took the stick from her mouth and pressed the lit end under Jasper’s chin. He yelped, jerking his head up. “Didn’t you?” she asked.

He whimpered. “Yes, Mother.”

The woman puffed a ring of smoke into his face, then addressed her secretary. “Mark the pup as fodder for that huge imbecile, whatever his name is.”

“Boulder, ma’am.”

“Yes, that’s the one. He can rip him apart next match. And make sure someone keeps this one alive till then.”

“Certainly, ma’am.” The man made a mark in his notes and looked patiently at his mistress, who blew smoke into Savoy’s face and turned toward the door.

“See to him in the south kennel, Jasper,” she called over her shoulder to her son. “You’ve fouled up enough for one night.”

Once everyone left, Jasper pulled Savoy into a room the size of a large closet and tied the leash to the wall. The door slammed shut. The only light came from a lantern, which the boy set on the floor.

“Best hurry, Jasper, before Mother catches you out of bed,” Savoy said.

“Brainless pig ass!” Jasper’s arm swung out, backhanding Savoy’s face.

Nothing more stimulating to courage than Mother’s absence, Savoy thought.

Jasper sneered. “You’re nothing but fodder now. No one needs you in fighting shape anymore.”

The image of the sickly, malnourished fighter who last faced Boulder materialized in Savoy’s memory.

“That’s right,” Jasper said, as if reading his thoughts. “We only need you alive for the next fight, so that imbecile can tear your limbs off.” His glowing hand reached for Savoy’s shoulder.

Before agony overtook him, Savoy saw tears streaming down the boy’s cheeks.

In the morning, Renee had to leave Atham. She gripped the doorframe of Sasha’s room, holding her travel pack in one hand while her friend tried to hold back tears.

“Don’t leave,” Sasha whispered.

But Renee had to leave. Another sword in Atham would make little difference. In Catar, Renee was Savoy’s lifeline and Diam’s guardian. She had to leave. Sasha knew why, understood, agreed. But she had still asked, and Renee, stepping forward to hug her friend, careful of the girl’s bruises and broken hand, had to say no.

Another notch in unfairness’s measure. Renee bit the inside of her cheek.

Two days of sleet and mud brought Renee, shivering and heartsick, back to Catar, where she rode at once to Zev’s to check on Diam. Khavi nuzzled her hand in greeting, his energy subdued to match the boy’s, who napped with his head pillowed on an old book. Alec was out. A glance over Diam’s shoulder revealed a drawing of a woman and eagle. She traced it with her finger. “I didn’t believe bonding existed. No one does.”

Zev shrugged. “People don’t believe what they don’t see. Even I’ve heard of no other living bonded pairs until now.”

Renee looked up, surprised. Somehow she’d thought Zev as familiar with bonding as Savoy with battle tactics. “Do you know why the rarity?”

The old man chuckled. “Most of the truly powerful mages died during the rebellion, taking their bloodlines with them. The Control strength of most who register today rates a three grade. The five-grade mages number a handful in a generation.” He nodded to the book. “Our best guess is that Keraldi and her eagle rated a seven each.”

Renee stroked the wolf’s fur, absorbing the significance of his partnership with Diam. “Bonding is a matter of power, then?”

“That, and trust. They chose to share life energy.” Zev lumbered to his feet and fed a log into the hearth. “Could you do that, Lady Renee? Allow another into your mind and body forever? Share your lifetimes?” He looked into the flame. “Do not speak of the boy’s bond to others, my lady. It may bring attention the child does not wish.”

Renee nodded; the thought had occurred to her as well. “And if a Healer touches him?”

Zev shook his head. “I expect it would be as with any other mage—usual healing reveals nothing of the patient’s Control rating, not unless the patient wishes it so.”

She drew a breath. Usual healing, Zev had said. Was there another kind? “Diam will have questions.”

“I will research the texts,” Zev promised. “What little is known, I will find for him.”

“Thank you,” she said, and begged him to keep the boy a few hours longer. Finding Jasper and, thus, Savoy could not wait till morning; she needed the code word to call in the Seventh. Renee paused in the doorway. “Do you think there are others like them somewhere?”

“If there are, they are smart enough to never let the secret out,” said Zev, and busied himself in making tea.