Page 45 of Cage of Starlight
They don’tliterallysigh, but their bodies are sighs in motion as they sketch salutes and retreat like their asses are on fire, leaving Tory with an empty hall behind him and no strength to flee down it.
With a nod to the impassive soldiers flanking the door, Vantaras gestures for Tory to go inside. Glaring, he obeys.
The door closes behind them.
The lights in the hallways were bright enough, but they’reblindingin here. The room is wide and mostly empty, windowless aside from three of those narrow, bar-like windows. It looks like an empty lab of some sort, and Tory wonders if Kirlov chose it for the counter that stands like an island between them. He takes Tory in, expressionless.
“Your supervisee nearly got away from us, Lieutenant.”
Vantaras stands bone-crackingly straight. “Yes, Sir. He made it as far as Serpentshead.”
It hits Tory only then that he hasn’t mentioned Belmin or his Seeds. He assumed, earlier, that letting them go was part of some larger plot on Sena’s part, just like he cleared space in the doorway for a second before Tory’s Core was installed—a predator taunting its prey with freedom before trapping it between its teeth again. But Helner said something was up withthat, too, didn’t she? Tory grits his teeth. He’s too tired for this. Vantaras keeps talking, tone steady and dry. “Private Jemmes informed me at the gate that Menden and three guards are recovering with the Healers.”
“I’m aware.”
A person should not be able to standmoreat attention when they’re already doing so, but Vantaras somehow manages it. “I accept responsibility. Arknett’s actions are as mine.”
Tory wants to bite him. Throw him out a window.
A research subject for Helner, and now not even his choices are his own.
He was so close. To Arlune. To freedom, and people who could show him how to fight to keep it.
“Do you bastards even hear yourselves?” he blurts, and the way Kirlov’s eyes narrow makes him think this was a bad choice, but he’s already taking a short step forward and can’t stop himself mid-stride.
Or perhaps he can. His foot, when it lands on the floor, finally gives up its token effort to keep him standing, and he lands hard on one knee.
At least it takes those icepick eyes off of him and turns them on Vantaras. “Lieutenant, youinjuredhim?”
“No, Sir. I believe it’s exhaustion. I was hoping to deliver him to the Healers . . .”
“Do it. I expect you’ll make it absolutely clear what will happen if he continues to act in this way. You areluckyyou managed to recapture him so quickly. The Grand General will be visiting tomorrow, and if he were to see the Channeler in anything but pristine condition . . .”
“My fa—” Vantaras’ hands fly behind his back, clasping each other so tight Tory’s surprised something doesn’t break. He shakes himself, paces to the door, and opens it. “Please escort Mr. Arknett to the Healers.”
Tory isn’t sure he’s going to be escorted anywhere. Now that he’s no longer putting weight on them, his legs have gone like jelly. Two apathetic soldiers enter to drag him out.
He hears, just before the door closes, “The Grand General will be cominghere?”
*
He isn’t sure how much time has passed when the infirmary door opens, searing Tory’s aching eyes. Vantaras steps inside to whisper with the nurse, his face beaded with sweat and gait uneven.
Tory’s lips curl.
The room is barren, just a nurse, the bed with straps looped around one wrist because he’s aflight risk, and the blue-toned strips of lighting along the wall that paint the room in calming underwater colors. Relaxing colors, the young man who healed him said, while Tory nearly dozed at the euphoric rush of warmth as his tired, torn muscles repaired themselves.
Relaxing colors.
The darkness in the caravan with Hasra had the same muffled quality, but all Tory can remember is that gloved hand wrenching the door open. Hasra’s eyes as she watched him go.
He’s got energy, now, to feel all the shame and rage he was too drained for, earlier.
At the sight of Sena Vantaras, Toryburns.
Vantaras sucks in a breath, shallow and erratic. The heels of his shoes tick on the floor as he approaches Tory. “Forgive me for the delay.” A demand, not a request. “I made the grave mistake of not explaining the full function of your Core the moment you received it. Naively, having never had supervisees before, I believed it would be merciful to allow you a few short days to acclimate to STAR-7 before making you aware of the breadth of the control it has over you, but I failed to take into account your stupidity and recklessness. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
Tory scoffs. “You,merciful?”
