And they were there for each other in ways that Amaya had never seen an Initiate cohort be before. That was because of Miniara Pass, of course. All sixteen of these kids had been in an honest-to-the-saints fight where their lives were on the line, and that taught them more than any amount of training room exercises had. They helped each other, they encouraged each other, they lifted and supported, and hardly paid any attention to ranking anymore.
Amaya loved every one of those kids, but she definitely loved Jerinne the most. She couldn’t show it on the floor, though. At least, not explicitly.
She showed it in her spar with Jerinne this morning, both of them with wooden practice shields and swords, both of them going full speed and strength. Amaya went at Jerinne brutally, attacking with every bit of skill, savagery, and subterfuge that she had. Jerinne gave just as much back.
She could see, in the spark in Jerinne’s eye, in that sly tug at the corner of her lips, that she felt Amaya’s love, and was giving it in return. She knew that this was how they respected each other, fighting this hard in an exercise spar, trusting that they wouldn’t get hurt.
Amaya feinted to one side, and then dropped to sweep Jerinne’s leg out from under her. Jerinne missed the step, and was knocked down on her back. Amaya sprung up, bringing her practice blade down on Jerinne’s face, sure to break the girl’s nose.
But it was blocked, another practice sword there for the parry. But it wasn’t Jerinne’s weapon—Enther was there, protecting his friend from the blow.
Saints, these kids were all Tarians.
“Good,” she said, stepping away and wiping the sweat off her brow. “Well done, Enther.”
“Between her and harm,” he said, helping Jerinne to her feet.
“Lethal sweep, ma’am,” Jerinne said. “I should have been faster.”
“Damn right, you should have,” Amaya said. “All right, break down, third-years. Weapons away, go get water and food, and meet up with your mentors. See you at Contemplation Exercises after supper.”
The kids all went to work cleaning up the training room, filing out the door.
“Anything for me?” Jerinne asked.
“You tell me,” Amaya said. “What’s Dayne up to today?”
“Not sure,” Jerinne said. “Yesterday we looked into some missing kids on the south side; he’s probably planning on keeping a nose in that. It’s the most interesting thing he’s got going on.”
Poor Dayne. Amaya knew the “liaison” position at the Parliament had already been a waste of time, and it seemed that with Tarians and Spathians taking an active role in the security of the Parliament, it would be even more pointless. And Dayne was stuck. But at least he was staying engaged.
“So are you going to help him with that?” Amaya asked. “If so, you can’t be getting back in so late like last night.” She noted most of the other third-years were out of the room, or paying them no mind. “At least a couple Adepts noticed and thought it was odd. Be sharper.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jerinne said. “But this thing with the kids, I think it ties to the atrocity at the Parliament. Quoyell’s arrest and then assassination.”
Amaya gave Jerinne all her attention. “How so? There were kids involved in that?”
“Quoyell was involved in a ring delivering kidnapped kids to someone. Don’t know why. But my inspector friend? She tells me that his assassination was orchestrated by Colonel Altarn. That was the woman you were interested in yesterday, wasn’t it?”
Amaya resisted the urge to grab Jerinne by the arm. “You’re certain?”
“I’m certain Missus Rainey thinks so.”
Altarn was almost definitely The Mage. It all added up too well, especially with her sudden rise to the highest prominence in Intelligence and political circles.
“All right,” Amaya said. “You find Dayne and you stay on that. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Shield and sword,” Jerinne said.
Amaya nodded. Raising her voice a little so the other Initiates could hear. “After you eat, go over the Armory, Initiate, and oil and sharpen blades. I’ll personally inspect your work tonight.”
“Ma’am,” Jerinne said with a salute and a slight wink. She understood. She was on it.
Amaya wasn’t going to waste any more of the day. She made her way to her quarters, brushing past the black-haired servant coming to clean the training room floor. She needed to change into civilian clothes. She had her own leads to investigate, and for this, she should not be in a Tarian uniform.
The household of Baron Vollingale was somber and quiet as Dayne and Lady Mirianne were led to his study by one of his underbutlers. They were brought tea and pastries in utter silence, to the point where Dayne felt awkward even speaking to Miri while they waited for the baron. She quietly accepted the tea and didn’t break the silence herself until the baron came in.
“This must be the famed Mister Heldrin,” he said as he crossed the room. “Thank you so much for coming, and thank you, Miri, for bringing him.”
“Of course,” Miri said, taking the baron’s hand as he came over.
Baron Vollingale was a relatively young man, only a few years older than Dayne and Mirianne at best, but he had the harrowed look of a man who had aged years in the past few days. His fair hair was unkempt, his eyes were cast with dark circles, and he was wearing only a dressing gown, belted at the waist.
He sat down at the desk. “My gratitude cannot be adequately expressed, regardless.”
“I don’t want to get your hopes up too high, sir,” Dayne said. “I am happy to help you in any way I can, but—”
“Of
