Page 66 of The Rebel's Prize

Lucien nodded as though he understood that tactic. Chloe understood it, too. The temple in Kingswell had kept her alone in those first few weeks after she'd fled to Anglion, when they were deciding whether she was to be allowed to live. The cell she'd stayed in hadn't been barred, but she'd been locked in with no contact with anyone other than a few dominas and priors. It had been exceedingly unpleasant, and she had no doubt a more thorough isolation might well encourage people to confess faster. Particularly if the cells also blocked off any sound.

"All right," Lucien said after a moment. "I'll start with Mestier Vargas. In his cell. I don't think we need a room."

"Very well, sir," the lieutenant said. "I'll call a sanctii to fasten his shackles down. We've been careful not to let them touch anyone."

"I will do," Octarus said, blinking into view.

To his credit, Lieutenant Usiel didn't react, but across the room, Deandra flinched and then frowned, looking from Chloe to Octarus. Of course, she had no way of knowing that Octarus was Chloe's.

Lucien lifted an eyebrow at the sanctii. "They are not to be harmed."

"Understand," Octarus said. "But help."

Chloe looked at Lucien. "He deserves the chance to help get justice for Rianne. Let him help."

[Be careful,] she said to Octarus.

He grunted at her mentally and then turned to the lieutenant. "Key."

Usiel handed over a key and walked to Istvan's cell. "I'll drop the wards and unlock the door. You go in, hook his shackles into the bolt on the rear wall, and lock it again, nothing more."

Octarus nodded, eyes fixed on Istvan.

The illusioner looked nervous. But not as nervous as Chloe would have expected if he wasn't used to sanctii. Interesting. He'd either trained at an Academe or knew water mages with sanctii.

It didn't take long for Octarus to carry out the task. He scowled at Istvan for a long moment but then left the cell, taking up a position near the door.

"All yours, Major," the lieutenant said. "As long as you stay a few feet away, there's no way he can touch you."

Lucien nodded. "Put the wards up after we're in the cell. It's vital Mamsille Noirene can’t hear any of this."

"Is that wise, sir? Her cell is warded. And I can't help you once you're inside."

"As you can see, the lieutenant has a sanctii. He can get around the wards faster than you can act. We'll be fine." He took a step forward.

"Wait," Chloe said, putting a hand on his arm. "What if he tries something he doesn't need to touch you for?"

Lucien shrugged. "Well then, I guess I'll find out who the more powerful illusioner is, won't I? Don't worry, I have done this before. Just stay behind me."

She had no intention of going nearer to Istvan than she had to. Deandra had gotten to her once, and she was determined not to let that happen again.

She followed Lucien into the cell, pausing only to smile at Deandra before stepping out of her view. Let her worry about what was happening. Wasn't that what Lucien wanted?

"Mestier Vargas," Lucien said. "Good morning."

The illusioner scowled, his honey-brown eyes sharpening. "Who are you?" he said in faintly accented Illvyan.

"I am Major de Roche." Lucien tapped his collar insignia: the emperor's sun topped by a stylized eye, done in black, unlike the gold of other ranks. "Do you know what this means?"

The illusioner nodded equally coolly. "Yes, I'm not an idiot. I know what a Truth Seeker is."

"Good. Then perhaps this will go easier."

"I still don't know why I'm here."

"Then let me clarify that for you," Lucien said. "We'll start with aiding and abetting an attack on His Imperial Majesty Aristides Delmar de Lucien."

The man bristled. "An attack? Don't be ridiculous. I haven't been near Lumia in months."

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