by Alex Lidell
“Move, girl!” someone growled into her ear. She turned to see the other sergeant, an older man with a shaved head, kneeling next to her, partnering Alec in the same drill. “Sit-up! Now!” Alec grimaced at her side. By now, he was keeping up little better than she was.
She sat up. And then did it again. And again. She ran, collapsed, got up, and ran more. She passed the sandbag. She carried it in her arms. She pulled herself up on tree branches. And, despite the agony of each motion, a deep happiness seeped into her bones. She and Alec were with the Seventh, and the Seventh was not giving up on them. The toughest warriors in Tildor encouraged, shoved, yelled, but never dismissed either of them as the irrelevant tagalongs they were. When they returned to Academy grounds, Renee’s prayer thanked the gods not just for the training’s conclusion, but for its beginning. She lowered herself to the sand to stretch.
“You two keep walking another twenty minutes.” Savoy’s voice turned all heads toward her and Alec.
“We’re fine, sir, real—”
Severe looks from several fighters dissuaded her from contradicting their commander and she swallowed the rest of her protest. The older sergeant stalked toward her, but Cory beat him to it.
“I’ll come with ye,” he offered, smiling and extending her a hand to pull her up. “Maybe you can show me this sacred Academy that trains you Servants?”
Hiding a smile, Renee suddenly didn’t mind the prescribed cooldown.
Alec scowled.
* * *
“You should come back,” Renee told Alec, who, despite her urging, had declined to return to the Seventh’s morning training. The three weeks since the team’s arrival had flown by in a rush of wind, and undone homework now hung thick in the early winter air.
“I get enough of Savoy during the day.” Alec scrawled another line of his essay, assigned a month and a half ago and now, suddenly, due to Seaborn the following morning. “Extra time with him has given you nothing but blisters and moves you’ve no intention of using. Plus, I don’t enjoy the same sights you do.” The last was mumbled under his breath.
Renee’s head jerked up. “Sights?”
Sasha chortled and answered in a singsong voice, “Cory and Savoy.”
Renee threw a pillow at each of them.
Alec let it hit him, his head unwavering from his work. He had made no secret of disliking Savoy since day one, when the man had cracked his blade across Renee’s forearm, but Alec’s animosity toward Cory made little sense. Everyone liked Cory. Alec straightened and made a valiant attempt at a smile. “Go with the sergeant. Savoy isn’t your friend.”
She sat on the floor beside him. The heat from the fireplace warmed the stone, and they had spread a quilt atop that. “You are my friend,” she said. “Are we going to work on the assignment or not?”
Five hours later, Renee rubbed her eyes. “I can’t take much more,” she mumbled, steeling herself for the all-night experience of transforming notes into paragraphs. If she forwent sleep and food, she would just make the deadline.
Alec peered over her shoulder. “Well, you but need to start and finish.”
She scowled, but before she could reply, the door burst open and a pale Diam stumbled inside. She rose, but he sidestepped her and made a beeline for Alec.
“Someone hurt Khavi,” Diam whispered.
When Alec remained seated, Renee frowned at her animal-loving friend and crouched by the child. “I’ll come. What happened?”
Diam shook his head. “No, not you. Khavi wants him.” He swayed and remained upright only by grabbing the older boy’s shirt. “Please,” he added, eyes shining. “He’ll die.”
Alec’s head snapped toward Diam, and his face grew as pale as the child’s. “Can’t Renee—”
“No.” A tear curved a clean path down his cheek. “You have to help. The way you helped when Tanil’s stone cut him, remember? You—”
Alec hopped to his feet, cutting off the boy’s words. “Renee, Sasha, stay here.” He took Diam’s hand and led him from the room.
Instead of wasting time arguing or responding to Sasha’s speculations, Renee gave the boys a head start and, a few minutes later, followed them out of the barracks and across the courtyard. The wind rose and fell, shaking the naked branches, which grew denser as they walked past the Academy’s edge and into the woods. Here Renee closed the distance, using the larger tree trunks for cover. She expected Diam to become hysterical as they approached Khavi, but he grew increasingly quiet, stumbling on flat ground.
They found Khavi on a tucked-away trail, blood soaking fur and earth. When Alec touched him, the dog lacked even the strength to whine. The arrow that had cut the animal’s flank lay several yards away. Diam curled on the ground, whimpering.
Shedding secrecy, Renee sprinted to the boy. “Diam,” she started to say, but Alec was there first, hauling the boy to his feet and ripping away clothing. “Are you hurt too?”
“My side,” he whispered. “An arrow hit me.”
“No, it didn’t,” said Alec. He scrubbed his sleeve over his forehead. “There’s no blood, Diam. It . . . it hit Khavi.”
“It hit us.” Diam’s voice faded, his body going limp.
Renee swallowed in confusion. “Alec?”
He looked at her, eyes searching. “I . . . I think they’re bonded. That Diam will die if Khavi does.” His mouth twitched. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her. “I’m sorry.” Alec drew a breath and let it out, its mist dull against his glistening eyes.
“For what?” Renee stepped toward him, her hand reaching for his shoulder.
He backed away. A wolf howled deep in the woods, and Khavi lifted his nose just a little, as if trying to pick up the song, and failing. Khavi’s muzzle fell. Taking another breath, Alec tilted his face to the sky. His shoulders opened as if surrendering to an energy that existed for him alone. His eyes widened, his arms trembling at his sides.
He was frightened, Renee realized. Her chest squeezed.
So was she.
But what—? She caught her breath. Alec’s fingertips glowed. His body tensed, twisted. And then, as quickly as it came, the tension melted away. His face flushed with relief and his palms flamed with blue fire that shimmered against the dusty brown of scattered tree leaves. Mage fire. The thought seemed to come to her from a distance. Alec stared at the glow and licked his lips.
CHAPTER 16
Renee staggered back. He was a mage. Alec was a mage. Her shy, steadfast, loyal best friend wielded the power to Control life forces. Her ears rang as if from a blow.
Alec turned to Diam. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Khavi does.”
Alec nodded and knelt to grip the dog’s shoulder. Blue mage light engulfed them both, pulsating like a beating heart and illuminating the forest around them. Diam groaned.
Renee gathered the boy in her arms. His small body pressed into her while sweat and fire consumed Alec and Khavi. When Alec’s hand dropped away at last, his clothes soaked despite the cold, Khavi climbed to his paws.
“You Healed him?” Renee’s voice sounded hollow.
“Yes. Well . . . no. It’s simpler with animals, but I wouldn’t know how to Heal a wound like that. I offered Khavi my energy and his body guided it.” Alec sank to the ground. “I think it’s instinctual with him . . . with the mage beasts. They can’t Heal themselves any more than human mages can, but once I gave Khavi my energy, something in him took over.” Wisps of blue flame scurried about his fingers like bits of lost lightning. Gasping, he clawed at the lining of his coat. The mage fire flared up over his hands, died, and flared again. He ripped at the cloth. “Help me,” he whispered.
She knelt beside him and patted the jacket. Something inside crinkled in response. With the nimbleness her friend’s fingers now lacked, Renee found the opening to a hidden pocket and suddenly knew what she was about to extract.
Dry orange veesi leaves crumbled into her palm. The bloody cursed leaves that affected mages so differently. She b
it her lip.
“Please, Renee.” Alec’s shaking hand extended to her. “Please. I need it.”
Renee stayed where she was, her jaw tight. It wasn’t fair. He was making her a part of this and it wasn’t fair.
“Renee.”
She stood and flung the leaves onto his lap. “Take it yourself.”
He did, trembling as he placed the orange bits into his mouth, cringed, chewed, and swallowed. Nausea contorted his face, but the blue glow died. His shoulders drooped in relief.
Renee hugged her chest and studied Khavi, now cuddling against his boy. It hit us, Diam had said. And Khavi . . . mage animals were rare . . . and wild. Hawks. Bears. Lions . . . “He isn’t a dog, is he?” Renee whispered. “He’s a wolf.”
Alec nodded. “He’s so friendly, you wouldn’t think it, but . . . Maybe mage animals act different when they bond?” Alec chuckled without humor. “I guess they’d have to, if they are to keep from eating their partner for dinner, right? And the partner’s family . . . I guess we’ve proved bonding is more than legend.” He offered Renee a weak smile.
Rene didn’t smile back. “Is Diam too a mage then?”
“I think he’d have to be. He’s too young for it to show yet, though.” Alec’s shoulders slumped farther over a bowed head. He prodded the dirt with his knuckle, bracing for the question they both knew she had to ask.
“How long?”
“Four years.” He looked up, holding her eyes. “I’ve never touched a human. I swear, Renee! Never. Not once. I wouldn’t even know how to get past the Keraldi Barrier in a person. Just animals, sometimes, sick ones who I can help a little. But almost never that even. I keep it down.”
With veesi. An illegal drug to hide a power so dangerous, the Crown mandated its supervision. She kept her face blank.
“Now you know,” he said, hushed.
“I . . . yes. Now I know.” What should one feel upon discovering that her best friend is a felon? Betrayal? Sympathy? Fear? All Renee felt was a humming silence filling her mind with a single, monotonous note. She chewed the inside of her cheek. “Why?”
“I chose freedom.” Alec’s eyes strayed to the boy and dog curled up together, asleep on the ground. “But not at the expense of their lives.” Alec’s head shot up with borrowed strength. “I asked you to say behind!” he yelled, but the fight left him as quickly as it had come. He lay down in the dirt. “I asked you to stay behind.” His gaze rested on the ground. “What will you do?”
Staring at him, Renee found neither the will to answer nor the desire to help him sit up. Debating whether to arrest a hypothetical mage in Seaborn’s class was nothing like standing across from a friend. If she told, Alec would face a noose.
Her fingers curled into tight fists. King Lysian waged war against crime while Alec, the king’s own Servant cadet, was himself a criminal. And Renee . . .
She had never thought herself capable of betraying the Crown.
She could not, would not, betray a friend.
And that loyalty meant treason.
Renee pushed herself off the ground. “Damn you.” The words squeezed past her gritted teeth. “Damn you, Alec!”
“Renee . . . ” His hand reached for her, but she stepped back, turning away.
A gust of wind blew in, howling through the trees. Renee walked into the wall of air, holding on to her jacket, trying to think of nothing but placing one foot in front of the other. The evening moved on, at a distance. The guards called all’s well. A clique of cadets hurried to reach the barracks before curfew. A stray cat brushed her leg and scurried up a tree. Renee walked. Just walked. Nowhere in particular.
The midnight bell tolled.
“Renee?” Savoy, flanked by his two sergeants, turned into the small quad between the barracks buildings, where Renee realized she now was. With all the increased security, she should have known she was bound to run across an adult sooner or later. “Is all well?” Savoy asked.
Another instructor would have punished her for missing curfew. He wouldn’t, she knew. Savoy asked direct questions and took her at her word. And she was about to lie to him. Another betrayal. “I thought I saw a horse loose.” She gestured behind her.
“All the way over here?” Cory’s voice carried surprise, not doubt.
Her fingers toyed with the hem of her coat. Catching herself, Renee stuffed her hands into her pockets. Gods, how did Alec stand it, lying to everyone—lying to her—all these years?
“We’ll check,” said Savoy. He crossed his arms, his eyes penetrating hers. When she remained silent, he nodded. “Very well,” he said, and they walked away.
Hanging lanterns illuminated her walk back to quarters, and unfinished notes welcomed her home. Alec’s materials had disappeared. Sasha, asleep in her bed, pulled her blanket over her head in response to the creak of the door.
On the heels of the evening’s events, the impossibility of finishing her essay by tomorrow throbbed like a drip of water against a wound, simultaneously trivial and unbearable. She chuckled bitterly. Seaborn would down-rate her, and the lowered academic standing would pull her further along the spiral toward losing an already tenuous hold on her Academy slot.
Renee walked to her roommate’s drawer. There lay the assignment she needed. If caught, she’d still be down-rated and likely spend every evening for the rest of the year digging latrine holes. But the consequences of doing nothing were little different. The past four hours saw her become an accomplice to treason because of her friend’s choices. It would serve nothing to jeopardize her own for the sake of a few sheets of homework.
After she finished copying Sasha’s words, Renee spent the rest of the night washing the ink from her hands.
CHAPTER 17
Savoy knew he was sleeping, but it made the dream no less vivid.
The cell stank of blood and urine. Both his. “Is he alive?” His voice cracked, echoing against the stone walls. On his stomach, he slithered toward the bars. “I’m sorry!” The taste of copper filled his mouth.
The guard snorted.
A hand from the darkness grabbed at him . . .
Savoy gripped his assailant and threw him into the wall.
The foe grunted and stayed put.
Savoy vaulted from his bed into a defensive crouch and froze in place. Sun rays poured through the window to fill his quarters with light, and the man slumped on the floor beside the bureau was Verin. His long gray coat pooled around his body and his silver-streaked hair puffed out in disarray.
Savoy drew a breath. “Gods.” Shaking away the last bits of sleep, he offered his hand to help the older man up. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“I see you’ve grown a bit, lad.” Verin’s voice was composed despite its owner’s sprawl. He climbed to his feet, leaning more on the proffered arm than Savoy had expected.
Savoy’s head pounded still. If the headmaster wished to see him, courtesy demanded a summons or, at the least, a knock. He was no longer Verin’s foster to be subject to random intrusions. His gaze weighed the other man. Verin was still taller, of course—Savoy had outgrown his adolescent runtiness but still stood nearly a hand shorter than the other man—but Savoy out-massed Verin now and had the edge of recent battle on his side. He braced his hands on his hips. “You should not startle me so.”
“Ah, my mistake then.” Verin pulled down on his tunic, settling it back into place. His forehead creased. “I had been under the impression that I raised a self-controlled military officer and not a wild animal. I thank you for correcting the misconception.”
Heat rose to Savoy’s face and he turned away for a moment to let it settle. Behind him, chair legs scraped against the floor. He turned to find his former teacher and guardian seated in the room’s sole chair.
“I’ve known several people who chose to leave their quarters unlocked,” Verin said conversationally. “But you are the first to have removed the locking mechanism completely.”
Savoy glanced at the door, where his handiwork had left se
veral holes from the extracted screws. Locks had a way of trapping you in as fast as keeping others out. He shrugged. “A good sword bests a good latch, sir.” Verin had taught him to fight, even if it had been decades since the now Servant High Constable was junior enough to wield a sword on the battlefield himself.
“Mmm. Indeed.” Verin smiled, crossing his legs. “Especially when someone else has another set of keys, eh?” A metallic jingle sounded when he patted his pocket and a bushy eyebrow rose in gentle amusement. “Were you afraid I’d lock you in?”
Savoy picked up a shirt and shrugged into it, letting the hem hang down over the battered britches in which he had slept. He started to pull himself up to perch atop his desk but changed his mind and walked back to the bed instead. With a few motions he tugged the woolen blanket tight and tucked the corners under the mattress. “Would you?”
The older man chuckled. “No. If I wished you to stay in your quarters, I believe I would have but to ask.” He tented his fingers under his chin. “That is something that differentiates a man from a boy, don’t you think? That he fulfills his obligation and follows his orders because they are obligation and orders, and not because he’s forced into obedience.” He cleared his throat to indicate a change of topic and inclined his head toward the bed. “Sit. Since I seem to have intruded on your sleep at midday, may I presume your night was otherwise occupied?”
Midday. Savoy glanced out the window for confirmation. “I drilled the Seventh until dawn, then herded cadets around the salle.” The words held an unintended ring of excuse that he didn’t care for. He scrubbed his hand over his face. The headmaster did not make social calls, so something was amiss. If previous experience was anything to judge by, the longer Savoy took to realize what that bloody something was, the worse the outcome. He sighed, remembering. The instructors’ conference to discuss the midyear exams a few weeks off had passed without the pleasure of his company. He squared his shoulders. “My apologies for the ill planning, sir.”
