The Cadet of Tildor

  Alec said nothing.

  CHAPTER 32

  The stallion Renee had hired for her ride to Atham snorted his discontent as she reined him to a walk on the Academy grounds. Gray clouds dimmed the late afternoon sunlight, washing the color from buildings and people alike. A cool breeze lifted Renee’s sweaty hair and dried the foam hugging the horse’s flanks. Patting the stallion’s neck, Renee yielded him to a stable boy’s care and rubbed her face.

  Palan. Sasha’s message had gnawed at her for the last two days’ ride. So the fat lord was the one behind Savoy’s return to Atham. Who did Palan manipulate to get the leader of a specialty unit pulled from the field? And why? And how? Did Palan’s labors to befriend Diam have anything to do with it? Renee’s skin felt tight. Rubbing her arms, she made her way to the main courtyard. For now, she would focus on the facts she had. She knew where Savoy was. All she needed was Verin’s help to get him out.

  The courtyard rolled out in a crunchy carpet of frozen yellow grass. Renee looked around. It was strange to be back. Stranger still to have cares beyond school walls. Despite having braced herself, the sight of the Academy’s grounds squeezed her chest. She could practically hear the fire crackling in her room, could see Rock Lake’s glass surface, could smell the mix of sand and sweat in the salle. All was the same and yet . . . Renee frowned.

  Something was off.

  The cadets moved faster between buildings, and uniformed guard seemed to have tripled in her fortnight away. It was fortunate she knew most guardsmen by name; their faces suggested they’d have evicted a stranger.

  Seaborn was not to be found, either in his office or his quarters. A sentry guarding the cadets’ barracks, another novelty begun in her absence, hesitated to let her inside.

  “Very well,” she told the young guardsman. “Could you tell Cadet Sasha Jurran that I would welcome her company out here?”

  His gaze dropped to the ground.

  “You know me, Chad.”

  He shook his head. “It is not that, Re—” He cleared his throat. “My lady. It’s . . . ” His voice faltered again. “Sasha will not leave her room. Or let anyone in.”

  Renee jerked straight. “What?”

  “A few days ago . . . She . . . ” The guard took a breath and collected himself. “I was the one who found her. Beaten half conscious and discarded naked at the Academy’s gates. Someone had broken three of her fingers and carved a pair of puncture marks on her neck.”

  Renee’s face went cold, as if doused with ice water. She pushed past the guard to the door.

  His hand gripped her shoulder. “There is more. The following day, King Lysian’s little cousin disappeared. A wee toddler.”

  “Claire?” Renee rubbed her eyes, remembering the giggling girl rocking her chair at the Queen’s Day dinner. It seemed the Vipers were finishing what they started, terrorizing the royal family until King Lysian had no choice but to turn a blind eye to their business. Twisting on her heels, Renee found the guard’s eyes. “Let me by, Chad. The Crown’s cousin cannot spend her life hiding.”

  He glanced from her to the building he guarded and stepped aside.

  Renee strode down the long corridor of the Academy barracks, each stride a painful echo of the life she’d left behind. She trailed her fingers along the uneven walls and stopped beside the door that once held her name. She knocked.

  “Leave, please,” came a voice from inside.

  “Sasha, it’s me.”

  “Great gods.” Sasha opened the door a crack and stood frozen for a moment before grasping Renee’s hands and pulling her inside. Her left eye was swollen, the purple bruises pushing against her hairline. A bandage swathed her right hand, a silk scarf her neck. Sasha opened her mouth, cringed, and instead of speaking, buried her face in Renee’s shoulder.

  “It’s all right,” Renee said, steering them to the bed. But it wasn’t all right. It was as wrong as having Alec as an opponent instead of an ally. As wrong as seeing Savoy in shackles, flinching from Jasper’s glance. Perhaps worse. Sasha wasn’t a fighter. She reasoned and discussed and debated, and she never hurt anyone. The thought of a Viper—of anyone!—abusing Sasha made the blood heat in Renee’s veins. Nostrils flaring, she smoothed her friend’s hair. “Do you wish to speak of it?”

  “No.” A sob escaped. “The Vipers took Claire.”

  “I know,” Renee whispered.

  “Who’s next?” Sasha’s voice broke. “My aunt? My mother? What if the Vipers get my mother? What if—”

  “It will stop.” Renee pulled back to look Sasha in the face. “Lysian is a good king. He will make it stop.”

  Sasha shook her head, wiping her eyes. “No, Renee, it won’t. The Madam does not have armies, but she has mages. If Lys marches on Catar with too few soldiers, he’ll be impotent. If he brings many, the fighting will turn the whole city to blood. The whole city.” Her words shook. “And then the Family will press for its advantage. And when Tildor’s neighbors in the Devmani Empire find out, they will attack us in our weakness. Tildor will be back at war. And”—Sasha’s words poured faster, each one upsetting the next—“and if Lys does nothing, the Vipers will keep coming after my family.”

  Renee drew a breath. Sasha was likely right. She usually was. “And will staying locked in the room change any of it? The Vipers want you terrified. Don’t aid their quest.”

  “I’m not like you, Renee,” she whispered. “I can’t just order myself unafraid.”

  “Neither can I. But we can try.”

  Sasha studied the bedspread. “You found Diam,” she said finally, and straightened. “Then you can stay a while, here with me?”

  Renee sighed. “No.” Taking a breath, she described what took place since she left, leaving out only Alec’s mage nature. If the story implied that veesi use spurred his decision to leave, it was the lesser of the evils. As she spoke, the fear in Sasha’s face dampened, and became focused on the dilemma at hand.

  “Seaborn is at the palace,” Sasha said when Renee finished speaking. “Lys has him in chambers with other officials, divining options for the crisis. Perhaps that sheds light on his delay.”

  Renee frowned, opening her mouth to protest Seaborn’s failure to send word, but halted when Sasha sighed.

  “Don’t be angry, Renee. For better or worse, Lys settled the weight of Tildor’s safety on Seaborn’s shoulders.”

  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.

  CHAPTER 33

  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?”

  “I wish to give you veto power over the contract.”

  She blinked. “Veto?”

  He raised the folded paper. “I’ve signed the deal from my side, opposite your father’s hand. If you find the arrangement disagreeable, tear up the parchment. Otherwise, pass it to him. As you see, I offer no imposition. Only choice.”

  Renee drew a breath. Despite herself, she had to bow at the man’s skill. She wished no gifts from the Family, but he had given her a gift of knowledge and choice—a gift impossible to reject or return. “Why the generosity, my lord?”

  “Not generosity. Only a show of good faith, like I stated before.” His smile said he’d say no more. With a small bow, Palan slipped the folded parchment and another, smaller piece of paper, into her pocket and turned away.

  Renee stared at the receding back. “Why did you want Savoy recalled to the Academy?” she called out.

  The large back paused, silence filling the air for several heartbeats. “Because it was Diam’s first year here,” Palan said finally, and, tugging down his waistcoat, strolled away.

  Renee shut her eyes. Why would the brothers’ reunion matter to him? And how did Palan expect to benefit from befriending her? She felt the answer scratching the corner of her mind but could not drag it out. Her hand touched her pocket, extracting the small paper scrap. A tavern name and a time. Nothing more. For an instant, she considered turning about and chasing down the conniving lord, demanding that he explain himself. Even as the thought sprinted through her, she knew it was foolish. She could not intimidate Palan into divulging more than he wished any more than she could muscle a sword into the skull of a stronger opponent. And Savoy had already taught her the fallacy of that.

  Savoy. Sasha’s news had distracted Renee for a time, but the simmering panic now retur
ned. She needed Verin and the Seventh, and she needed them fast. Praying that Savoy’s men were stationed nearby, she hurried to see the headmaster—and High Constable.

  * * *

  Verin’s office smelled of jasmine tea. On instinct, Renee came to attention in front of his desk before remembering that military courtesies were no longer hers to follow. She inclined her head instead.

  “A pleasure seeing you once more, my lady.” Verin diplomatically failed to notice her misstep and rose. He invited her to take a worn leather chair and waited until she sat before doing so himself. “The loss of your company is a great one to both the Crown and the Academy.” His voice was unexpectedly genuine. “How can I be of service?”

  She leaned forward. “The Vipers—” The words rushed to her lips and she drew a breath to rein them, and herself, in. “The Vipers hold Commander Savoy captive in an underground Predator lair in Catar City.”

  He didn’t even blink. Renee tensed. Waited. Then she felt her eyes go wide with realization.

  He knew.

  “Is a rescue mission—”

  Verin shook his head, cutting her off. “There will be no rescue mission.” He interlaced his fingers and laid them atop his desk. “Your words pain me, but the Crown never authorized Commander Savoy to abandon his post and ride off to his brother’s rescue. A Servant taking independent action is not entitled to the Crown’s army any more than a royal account keeper with personal debts is entitled to the Crown’s coffers.”

  Renee stared at him. Her voice failed for several seconds before she forced it to work. “You are Savoy’s family,” she said quietly. “You raised him, taught him to fight, guided his life. He will die, sir, and you can stop it.”

  Verin lowered his face, his lips pressed together. When he looked up, a play of the window’s light glistened in his gaze. “I am a High Constable in the Crown’s army.” He voice was low. “I advise King Lysian on military strategy while overseeing the education of all his champions. The position does not permit the luxury of sentiment.”