This time, no one chuckled, despite her humorous choice of words.
“Brycon Seine?” Maes wanted to know. “He doesn’t strike me as the violent type.”
That made a dark chuckle bubble up in Lory’s throat. “Are we talking about the same Brycon?”
“If you mean the knowledgist, then yes. He’s very helpful most of the time.”
Jarek tensed beside his sister. “Don’t tell me you hang out with that asshole.”
Maes shrugged. “He’s the best study partner, and since Ricca is gone, he’s become really nice, actually.”
All Lory wanted to do was warn Maes about the man who had told Lory to her face multiple times that she should be dead, but Jarek was already in full-on big brother mode, gesticulating wildly as he explained to Maes that she needed to be more careful who she spent time with, especially after Narica had been executed in front of the school, and after her shouts of defiance, Andromeda, who had associated with Narica. If Lenya was already grooming Brycon for his Whispers Division, he might already be spying on her during those study sessions, trying to extract information and figure out who shared Narica’s ideology.
Perhaps thornlings weren’t stabbed at breakfast, but the Triad had other ways of making people disappear for sure. The three Flames in the dungeons were only one example.
“All right, all right.” Maes lifted her hands in defeat after what felt like an hour-long lecture from her brother. “I solemnly swear that I’ll stay away from the knowledgist. No matter how convenient his dictionary-type of knowledge is.” Her words died on her tongue as yet another visitor crossedthe threshold, stopping in his tracks at the sight of Lory next to Jarek and Maes.
“I can come back later,” he mumbled, already turning on his heels, but Maes hopped up from the bed, jogging the five paces to the door, and looped her arm around Brycon’s.
“We were just talking about you,” she announced in a cheery voice that Lory was only used to from Anees.
That made Brycon hesitate even more.
Jarek wasn’t as happy to see the knowledgist as his sister was, though. His usually friendly expression turned into a dangerous glare that would have sent lesser men running. “Whatever you have to say, Seine, you can say in front of my sister and my friend.”
“Friend,” Brycon huffed. “I see that now.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe he’d just spoken those words, and a few dragged steps later, he was standing at the foot end of Jarek’s cot, wringing his hands like a little boy.
“If you’ve come to gloat, you might as well turn around and leave,” Lory snapped at him, her hand casually resting on the hilt of her dagger. The new scratches in its blade she’d need to smooth out later, and sharpen it, as Jarek had suggested.
Brycon merely shook his head. “I’ve actually come to…” Once more, his words dried up.
“Come to dowhat?” Self-righteousness fueled Lory’s open hostility, and judging by the expression on Jarek’s face, he wouldn’t have minded if Brycon disappeared and never returned.
“A…pologize,” Brycon stammered. “To apologize.”
“For killing three ashlings?” Lory prompted, her temper rising and her magic boiling. She willed it to stay put. “You don’t need to apologize to him for that”—she gestured at Jarek—“but perhaps those three ashlings’ parents would feel better knowing who’s responsible for their children’s deaths. Unless, of course, it was intentional and you really aren’t apologizing out of courtesy, but to make yourself feel better. Honestly, Seine, whichever it is, we don’t want to hear it. You made a choice, and you killed three people with it, almost four. Now live with your decision.”
Shoulders sagged and head slightly bowed as he glanced at Lory, Brycon looked like a beaten dog, but she wasn’t done with him. “I don’t care if you hateme, Brycon, but lay a finger on one of my friends again, and I won’t care that I’m not supposed to use my magic to stipulate an example. I’ll put you on a pyre, light it up with my fire, and watch you burn.”
A wisp of smoke rose from her open palm, a promise that her threats weren’t empty.
No one spoke for a strenuous few moments, which Lory used to count her heartbeats and breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth the way Anees had taught her. Her magic stayed put.
When Brycon finally spoke again, his voice was trembling, and so were his placating hands.
“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone but the woman who kept pulling on my leg. I don’t know why she was trying to kill me, but had I not kicked her, she would have succeeded.”
“What?” To Lory’s surprise, Maes was the one prompting for an explanation.
“She kept grabbing my ankle and pulling me down. I had to dosomething,or it would have beenmewho broke his neck.”
Lory wasn’t sure what she should think, whether she would have preferred it to have been Brycon instead of those three others—because a part of her did. One life instead of three.
Then, there weren’t any guarantees Brycon wouldn’t have torn down other ashlings had he lost his hold on the wall. It was really three lives versus an unknown number that might have included Jarek, or Thal, or Tabi, or any combination of the three.
“I’m sorry,” Brycon repeated, in a stronger voice this time. “I’m sorry you got hurt in the process.” He meant it, too. Lory could tell by the way his expression turned devastated. “I would never actually try to kill one of my fellow students.”
“Sounded a lot different when you supported Ricca’s vision for my timely death.” Lory couldn’t help but seethe at the knowledgist, and Brycon actually flinched. “Or have you changed your mind?”
