Jim Butcher - Academ's Fury

" Crows ," Tavi spat.

Both of them stopped to stare at Tavi.

"You say they left in a rush, Your Grace?" he asked.

"Very much so," Lady Placida answered.

"Max," Tavi said, his heart pounding, "those cutters we saw on the way in. They're going after my aunt."

"Bloody crows," Max said. "Aria, please excuse us?"

Lady Placida nodded once, and said, "Be careful, Maximus. I owe you my son's life, and I would hate to miss the chance to repay the debt."

"You know me, Your Grace."

"Indeed," Lady Placida said. She inclined her head to Tavi, smiled again at Max, then turned back to the garden, dismissing them with the same flick of her hand she'd used for the majordomo.

"Come on," Tavi said, his voice tense, and started trotting back through the house. "We have to hurry. Can you get us there any faster?"

Max hesitated for a second, then said, "Not in quarters this close. If I tried to windcraft us both there, I'd fly us into a building for sure." His face flushed with color. "It, uh, isn't my strong suit."

"Crows," Tavi spat. "But you could take yourself?"

"Yes."

"Go. Warn them. I'll catch up whenever I can."

"Tavi, we don't know that those cutters were after her," Max pointed out.

"We don't know that they weren't . She's my family. If I'm wrong, and she's safe, you can make fun of me for a year."

Max nodded sharply as they emerged from the front door. "What does she look like?"

"Long hair, dark with some grey, very thin, looks early twenties in the face."

Max paused. "Pretty?"

" Max ," Tavi snarled.

"Right, right," Max said. "I'll see you there." The young man took a pair of long steps and flung himself into a leap, bounding straight up into the air as sudden wind rose in a roar to carry him into the night sky, his hand on his sword the whole way.

Tavi stared bitterly after Max for a second, his emotions in a wash of fear, worry, and the raw and seething jealousy he rarely let himself feel. Of all the people of the Realm, comparatively few of them commanded enough power with wind furies to take flight. More young people were killed in windcrafting accidents than any other form of furycrafting as they attempted to push the limits of their skills and emulate those who could take to the skies. Tavi was hardly alone in his jealousy. But the possible danger to Aunt Isana made it a particularly bitter realization of his lack of power.

Tavi didn't let the sudden surge of emotion keep him from breaking into a dead run toward Nedus's house. He could not possibly match Max's time back to it, but he couldn't do less than his utmost, either. Not when it was Aunt Isana. He had never been a slow runner, and the years he'd spent in the capital had given him inches of height and pounds of muscle, all of it lean and hardened by his constant duties to the First Lord. There might have been a dozen men in the city who could have matched his pace without furycrafting, but no more. The boy all but flew down the festively lit and decorated Garden Lane.

If the cutters were there, they would almost certainly be skilled swordsmen, most likely metalcrafters, who tended to outshine all but the deadliest and most talented of swordsmen with no metalcrafting of their own. From the hard-bitten look of them, they were experienced, and that meant that they would work together well. Were it only one such man, Tavi might be able to steal upon him or arrange to bluff his way close enough to attempt some sort of surprise attack. But with four men , that would not be an option-and simply assaulting them, even had he been armed with more than the knife at his hip, would have been suicide.

Max, Tavi knew from experience in the training hall, was the kind of swordsman that might become a fencer of song and legend-or who might be killed by foolish overconfidence before he had the chance. Max was an absolutely deadly blade, but the training hall was far different than the street, and fencing partners were not likely to behave in the same way as professional killers. Even Max's experience in the Legions might not have prepared him for the kind of nasty fighting that might be used on the streets of the capital. Max had more confidence than any three or four other people Tavi knew, except perhaps for the First Lord, but Tavi was frightened for his friend.

"Even so, he was more frightened for his aunt. Isana had, Tavi knew, spent her entire life in steadholts, and she had little idea of how treacherous the capital could be. He could not imagine that she would be keeping company with a courtesan if she knew the woman's profession. Tavi also could not imagine his aunt coming to the capital without some kind of guardian or escort, especially if she was here at Gaius's invitation. Surely she would have had the company of her younger brother Bernard at the very least. For that matter, why in the world hadn't the First Lord assigned Amara or one of the Cursors to accompany her while she guested in the palace"? Gaius would have no reason at all to bring her to the capital only to allow her to be harmed. She was too much a symbol of his authority.

All of which meant that communications had to have broken down somewhere. Isana was vulnerable, perhaps unguarded, perhaps under the guidance of someone who would lead her into danger. Once Tavi found her, he would get her to the safety of the palace immediately. Even if he could tell her nothing of what was happening with the First Lord, it was in Gaius's best interests to protect her, and Tavi was sure that he could talk Killian into putting her into guest chambers where the presence of the Royal Guard would cover her from mortal danger.

Assuming that she was all right.

Cold fear ran through him, and lent still more speed to his limbs as he ran, tireless and focused and terrified for the woman who had raised him as if he had been her own.

When Renzo stepped out from behind a parked, riderless coach, Tavi barely had time to register it before the hulking boy struck him with a sweep of one enormous arm. Tavi twisted and caught the blow on both of his own arms, but the larger boy's fury-assisted strength was vicious, and sent Tavi into a running stumble that fetched him up hard against the stone wall surrounding the environs of another enormous manor.

He managed to avoid slamming his head or breaking his shoulder in the impact, but beyond that, Tavi did little more than fall to the ground. He could taste blood in his mouth. Renzo stood over him in his brown tunic, pig eyes narrowed, both hands clenched into fists the size of hams.

Someone let out a tittering laugh, and Tavi turned his head to see Varien approaching him from the same hiding place. "Good one," Varien said. "Look at him . I think he's going to cry."

Tavi tested his arms and legs, then pushed his hands down to rise from the ground. As he did, his fear and worry and humiliation coalesced into something made of nothing but hard edges and serrated blades. His aunt was in danger. The Realm could be in danger. And these two arrogant idiots had chosen now, of all times, to interfere.

"Varien," Tavi said, quietly. "I don't have time for this."

"You won't have to wait long," Varien told him, his tone taunting. "I flew the two of us in front of you, but Brencis will be along shortly to talk to you about your rudeness in coming to his party uninvited."

Tavi straightened and faced Varien and Renzo. When he spoke, a strangers voice came from his lips, the tone hard, cold, ringing with command. "Get out of my way. Both of you."

Varien's sneer wavered and his watery blue eyes blinked several times as he stared at Tavi. After an uncertain pause, he began to speak.

"Open your mouth again," Tavi said, in that same, cold voice, "and I will break your jaw. Stand aside."