“Don’t recognize you, son,” said one of them, a man who couldn’t have been more than a year or two older than Scorio. “Let’s see your chit, then.”
“Of course.” Scorio set the heavy amphora down with relief and handed him Leonis’s coin. With scrupulous discipline, he kept the anger from his visage as he ignored their gray and rose-colored robes.
“Very well. What do you have there?”
“Dawn apple juice, sir,” said Scorio politely. He thought to embellish, say something about how it was the best in all of Ward 7, but opted to keep his mouth shut instead.
“A whole amphora, hey? Lucky Great Souls. That’s the life. Move on then. You know where you’re going?”
Relief flooded Scorio, and he heaved the amphora back up onto his shoulder. But before he could answer, a tall, imposing woman walked into view.
She had a natural air of command, was tall, handsome, and athletic, with skin the color of wheat and dark, chocolate brown hair worn in a thick braid that hung down over one shoulder nearly to her waist.
The very same instructor who’d marched him out of the basilica and down to his holding cell.
Both guards snapped to attention, their bodies nearly vibrating from how stiffly they held themselves.
“At ease,” she murmured, clearly intent on simply making her way up the stairs, but then held her casual glance at Scorio as she slowed and stopped, one foot on the lowermost step.
Scorio averted his gaze, his heart pounding, pounding, but it was too late.
Should he run? Throw the amphora at her? She’d been so strong, her powers mysterious—
“Who are you?”
One of the guards immediately answered, as if not trusting Scorio to know his own identity. “A courier, Instructor Helminth. Bringing dawn apple juice to one of the trainees.”
Scorio stared fixedly at the ground, one arm raised to balance the amphora, jaw clenched, mind whirling as he sought a means to avert the attention. Act a fool? Fake an accent?
“You’re more than that,” said Helminth, her tone assured, curious, almost lazy. “Look at me, boy.”
Scorio fought back a grimace and looked up, feeling at once panicked and defiant. It was all going to end here, it was over, he couldn’t fight her—could he?
Her eyes were large and the deepest brown, flecked with gold and rich with amusement and disdain. Her jaw was broad, and she exuded a natural vitality, a robust health, that made him wonder if she’d gone a day without training and eating the best of everything that Bastion had to offer.
“Not just a courier, are you?” Her voice was soft now, considering. She didn’t remember him, the ten hells be praised, but still—
She reached out and took hold of his chin between two strong fingers, turning his head from side to side. “You’ve training. Talent. Explain yourself, boy. How does a courier come to have such a powerful Heart?”
She truly didn’t remember him.
Both guards gaped, uncomprehending, but Scorio knew exactly to what she referred.
He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “My father, my lady. He’s a powerful bureaucrat in House Kraken. Fed me treasures and gave me the best training octs could afford since I was little. Wanted me to join the Academy.”
“He did, did he?” She released his chin. “Yet here you are delivering juice like an errand boy.”
“I didn’t want to join the Academy.” It was easy to make his tone sullen. “So I ran away from home. Didn’t want to deliver the dawn apple juice, either, but my employer gave me no choice.”
“Is that so.” He couldn’t tell if she believed him or not. The corner of her broad lips curled into a smile. “What astonishing talent. What is your name?”
His mind blanked, and he said the first name that occurred to him: “Memek.”
“Memek.” She glanced up the stairwell, as if recalling pressing business, then fixed him with her piercing gaze once more. “Deliver your juice, then ask one of these guards to escort you to my office. I would speak with you further. It’s been years since a commoner evinced such startling ability. Who did you say your father was?”
Scorio opened his mouth, uncertain as to how much credibility he’d retain if he got this wrong, but was saved by Helminth’s own impatience.
“Never mind. You can tell me everything later. Guards, make sure he finds his way to me before he leaves.”
“Yes, Instructor Helminth,” said both men, snapping out crisp salutes.
“Yes.” She hesitated, considering Scorio for a second longer, then quickly climbed the stairs, taking the steps two at a time, and was gone.
Both guards let out sighs of relief when she rounded the corner. “You’d best hurry on then,” said one of them. “Come right back here and I’ll take you to Instructor Helminth’s offices when you’re done. We clear?”
“Absolutely,” said Scorio. “You were going to tell me where suite three was?”
“Third door on the right, my fortunate friend.” The guard’s smile was cold. “Don’t go wandering off, now.”
Scorio didn’t answer.
Instead, he strode along the broad hallway to the third door. It was large, made of solid bronze, and deeply recessed in the wall, its surface inlaid with an abstract pattern of pearl and silver. It glimmered in the shadowed recess as if viewed in a fever dream.
Stepping up, Scorio pounded his fist upon it, then stepped back.
The door jerked open, revealing Lianshi, clad in a comfortable interior robe, the material light and tightly belted at the waist. Her hair was damp and seemed to have more volume for being unbrushed, and she smiled nervously at the sight of him. “There’s our juice. Please bring it inside.”
Scorio fair leaped inside, then set the amphora down, finally allowing himself to gasp as his chest heaved in barely controlled panic.
But his roiling thoughts were smoothed away by the luxury of the room.
The suite was spacious, high ceilinged, with a natural slate floor whose subtle contours were smoothed by what might have been centuries of feet passing over it. A large fireplace was set just a few yards to the entrance’s right, with a sunken living room area beyond it in the far corner. A single shelf ran along the wall, its surface laden with intriguing objects and heavy books. Doors led off to the left and right, but Scorio’s attention was pulled past the dining table, past everything to the far wall.
Or lack of it.
Thick bushes and massive fronds framed a stone walkway that meandered to a set of three freestanding steps that rose to the right to a platform that was just barely in sight, a stone platform built at the edge of a luminous pool of azure whose extent was hidden by the steam that rose from its surface.
Scorio pointed. “That’s your pool?”
“That’s our pool,” said Lianshi, hands on hips. “Just took a swim in preparation for our activities tonight. Leonis!”
The large man emerged from the door to the left, his smile broad and narrowing his eyes to slits. “There he is. The plan proceeds apace!”
“Yes, except for one problem.” Both of his friends paused. “Helminth noticed me on my way here. She detected my Heart and demanded the guards escort me to her offices once I delivered the juice.”
“The Hell Whip saw you?” Leonis pressed his palm to his brow, took three steps backward, and sank into one of the dining chairs. “You’re joking.”
Lianshi had covered her mouth with one hand. “Did she recognize you?”
“No. I told her a story, and she believed it. Enough to let me deliver this juice first, at any rate. But what are we going to do now?”
“Thank every bleeding fiend in hell. She’s absolutely terrible with names and faces. It’s a running joke in class. But now we’ve got to hurry,” said Leonis, voice turning decisive. “I was going to wait till after dusk, but we no longer have that luxury. We’d best be gone before they come looking for you.”