Page 107 of Burning Ice
“I can see that.”
Moargan smirked. Kylix gave his usual stoic nod, but Mirel caught the brightness in his eyes, the hint of humor he rarely showed in public. They sat down. Helianth and Archer were already there, still arguing about some technical device Mirel didn’t follow.
“Who would fund such an organization?” Yure asked suddenly.
The air thickened. Even the low hum of conversation seemed to hush. Mirel’s fork froze mid-air.
Kylix wiped his hands on a napkin. “We’re checking every channel. Attica’s network is layered, money, drugs, trafficking, coded auctions. We’re tracing the accounts. But we think the prisoners are being used for something far worse.”
Helianth looked up sharply. “How worse?”
Kylix’s jaw tightened. “We don’t know yet. But we’re working on it.”
Helianth’s amethyst eyes met his, quiet awareness flickering behind them. He understood there was more Kylix couldn’t say.
Kylix’s slate buzzed again. He glanced down, light cutting across his cheekbone. “Then let’s go. The summons won’t wait.”
“Wait,” Yure said, half-rising. “I want to come.”
“No,” Kylix answered. “Finish here, then check in with the Luminary after class. Vandor finishes at two, perhaps you can go together.”
He stood, smoothing his sleeve, the gold at his collar catching the light. “Ceremonial duty,” he said, words meant to sound casual. He bent and pressed his mouth once to Mirel’s temple. “Read the next page. I’ll test you when I’m back tonight.”
“Yes.”
Then they left. Kylix first, Helianth falling in at his side, a senior guard a step behind. Beyond the windows the light had darkened, clouds thickening over the academy, promising rain before nightfall.
The door of the canteen sighed shut. The garden glass held their reflections a moment, then let them go.
He waited a few minutes before moving. Chairs scraped, people talked again, and the noise filled the space Kylix had left behind. Outside, the first drops hit the glass. He watched them run until they blurred together.
Other students came and went, but Kylix had gone. His palm thrummed, the bond feeling raw and sad. A thread of frost walked along the inner edge of the pane, faint as breath, curving in the direction Kylix had gone. Only he could see it. It held for a moment, then cleared as if it had never been there at all.
When the hum under his skin steadied, he picked up his reader. “I should get back,” he said to no one in particular.
“Go,” Cyprian said, smiling without humor. “We’ll find you after.”
Mirel nodded. He pressed two fingers to the glass where the frost had been, felt nothing, and left for class with the page he owed Kylix waiting in his hands.
Outside, the heavens opened and rain began to fall in sudden sheets, drumming against the academy’s glass corridors as if the sky itself had broken.
28
Helianth stretched in the passenger seat, boots propped against the dash.
“You never tell me anything. One minute we’re eating, the next you’re dragging me into a raid.”
Kylix didn’t look at him. “You wanted excitement.”
“Not this kind.” Helianth frowned at the blur of streetlights. Outside, the first drops of rain hit the glass, light and metallic, hissing as the temperature dropped.
“What happened? We already have a location. Weren’t we supposed to move in tonight?”
“The plan changed.”
Kylix took the next turn hard, engine growling low through the narrow lane.
“Attica sent new footage. Prisoners alive. They’re taunting us, but at least it means they’re still inside the building.”
