As she left J’arrin’s room, Jade took a sharp turn down a narrow corridor. The hallway was largely unused, but it was an excellent short cut to the library. She had never encountered another person here, until today. As she turned a blind corner, someone grabbed her and shoved her back against the wall. Fear and anger flared, each vying for prominence.

“What do we have here?” C’arren purred. “I’ve been looking for you. Where are your cleaning supplies?”

Jade swallowed, a not insignificant feat with his hand around her throat. This wasn’t good. Normally, no one particularly cared where the slaves went or what they did, not as long as the work was done, and no one disturbed the Lady. But C’arren was always looking for an excuse to harass her. And evidently, he had followed her further than she had expected, today.

“I don’t know why you bother,” Jade shoved his hand away, and massaged her throat. “We both know the Lady won’t actually punish me. We have… an understanding.”

That was a bald-faced lie. Avrinly was strangely reluctant to punish her, but Jade had absolutely no idea why, or how far the courtesy would extend. C’arren didn’t need to know that, though. The guard pondered this for a moment, then nodded brusquely.

“Perhaps you are right. Maybe the Lady really won’t do anything about this blatant disregard for the rules. So, perhaps I should punish you a bit, myself. In self defense, of course. After all, with no witnesses, far from your designated post, who would they believe?”

Jade pursed her lips. That wasn’t exactly how she was hoping this would go. She turned to run, if she could find some witnesses he would probably back off, but he grabbed her wrist and dragged her back.

“Oh no, you stay right where you are. Someone should have disciplined you long ago. I am not going to let another minute pass without taking care of the problem.”

Jade glanced around. The hallway was narrow, he blocked the only way forward. The way back led to no one but J’arrin, and she couldn’t involve him. She wasn’t getting out of this. Only 2 options left. She knew she shouldn’t let him provoke her into a fight. She should just grit her teeth, take his ‘punishment’ and let this blow over. But there was one more thing that she knew, and that was the fact that she didn’t like who she was becoming in this place. She didn’t like pretending to be this girl, the one who kept her head down, took the abuse, didn’t cause trouble. It wasn’t who she was, but she had spent so long pretending that she was afraid it was who she was becoming. And nothing he could do to her was worse than that. Enough was enough.

“Fine. You want to hit me? Give it your best shot,” she jutted out her chin, inviting the blow.

C’arren tightened his grip on her wrist and took a swing with his free hand. It was a bad choice.

She used his own grip on her to pull him forward as he swung, throwing him of balance and sending his fist over her shoulder and into the wall and bringing his face in range of her elbow. His nose snapped satisfyingly, and his grip on her wrist loosened. She stepped away quickly. C’arren smiled, a gruesome sight with the blood streaming down his face and over his teeth.

“Such violence,” he licked the blood from his lips slowly. “I told the Lady that you were dangerous. Now she will have to see it my way. This won’t be ignored.”

He was right. She would surely suffer for this. But what was done was done. Might as well finish what she’d started. Get some real practice in, for a change. C’arren wiped the blood from his face with the back of his sleeve and advanced towards her. Jade studied his movements as he approached. He was fit and had the weight advantage. But he wasn’t really a fighter. He was an ornament. A well-muscled statue, placed in a room to intimidate meek staff and noble visitors. He was no soldier, no brawler. His movements were sloppy, undisciplined. Jade smiled. She could take him.

“I am feeling charitable today,” C’arren paused. “So, I’ll make you a deal: you come over here, get down on your knees, and beg me to forgive you. If you do, I’ll take it easy on you. I’ll barely hurt you at all.”

He was trying to provoke her, to goad her into making a stupid mistake, but he would fail; the time for anger had passed and all she felt now was cold resolve. C’arren advanced a few more paces.

“A chance to back down? Don’t make me laugh. You’ve wanted this since the first day we met. You scared now?”

“Of you?” he scoffed. “Obviously not.”

“Well, you should be.”

He took another clumsy swing at her, Jade blocked, just as she had been taught, deflecting it off her forearm to the side. The hit jammed her arm into her shoulder and drove her back a step. He may not be terribly imaginative, but he hit hard. She was going to have to avoid, rather than block. Not much room for that here. So, she would have to be quick. She moved in closer, blocked him at the elbows, preventing him from getting any momentum to his blows. He grabbed her around the waist, squeezing the air from her lungs. She hooked a foot behind his knee and threw her weight forward, knocking them both to the floor. With his hands around her, he couldn’t protect his head, which smacked the stone hard. While he was dazed, she squirmed from his grasp and rolled to the side. He grabbed for her legs, but she kicked him in the face, and he recoiled. Regaining her feet, she pressed her boot into his neck. He struggled, trying to stand, but she held him down. The leverage was hers; he wasn’t getting up until she let him.

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“Surrender,” she demanded.

“Never!” he hissed. “You’ll have to kill me first.”

She pressed harder, a strangled gasp escaped his lips.

“Surrender and I let you go. I’m no murderer.”

He snorted in disgust but refused to respond. Jade held him for a moment, but she knew she wasn’t going to take it any further. It was time to get out of here, back to where other people were. She turned to walk away,

“You are nothing more than a spoiled child, C’arren,” Jade admonished as she walked back towards the main house, “who can’t even admit a clean loss.”

The sound of a foot scraping stone caused her to spin, barely in time to block C’arren’s wild attack from behind.

“We’re not done here!” C’arren bellowed.

She deflected the blow to the side, shifted her weight to her back foot and kicked him in the stomach. As he doubled over, she drove her heel into the side of his head, harder than she probably should have; he dropped to the ground, insensate.

“Yes, we are,” Jade muttered.

A gasp echoed down the vacant corridor to her left. Jade looked up and cursed under her breath, as the girl at the end of the hall dropped the broom she was carrying with a deafening clatter. Their eyes met for just an instant, she was barely in her teens and the terror on her face was plain to see. Looking down at the bloodied man at her feet, Jade understood why.

The girl turned and ran. Jade didn’t bother going after her, or even calling out. There was no point. The heady rush of victory had subsided almost instantly, and she was left only with the sickening panic of reality. She berated herself for letting this happen. Though she had beaten him, she hadn’t won. In fact, she would certainly be in serious trouble because of it, even if no one had been here to witness it. She, after all, had not killed him, and would not kill him. He would be up any moment now, and he certainly wouldn’t be keeping this to himself. This wasn’t good. Not even a little. She should have taken the hits. Should have suffered the indignity. But regret wouldn’t do any good now. The girl would summon the guards. The other guards. Jade hesitated, unsure what to do now. She couldn’t run, she was bound to this place and hadn’t yet determined how to get around that. She could try hiding. Might even get away with it for a while, but not for long. It wouldn’t solve anything. The only thing left was to turn herself in and face the music. But before that, she had to get to J’arrin, because as much trouble as she was in, he would be in more for training her in the first place. She had to make sure that they never found out.

**

When Av’ry returned, the central square the plaza was bright and teaming masses of people, but all he saw was the bank. Sliding through the crowd, he headed straight for the building, unwilling to delay even a moment longer. Pushing open the large glass door, his heart beat faster in his chest and he had to work to control his nervous excitement. The woman at the desk offered him a half-hearted smile. The tellers that worked first thing in the morning were never as pleasant as the ones who worked in the afternoon, he didn’t know why.

“I need box 1679,” he said, producing an envelope with a small metal disc inside. The disc was imprinted with the box number on one side and on the other side with the runes that deactivated the wards. The invention of these discs had been quite a boon to the banking industry; it allowed all customers to have the increased security of a warded box, protected by interwoven skeins of magic, without the banks needing to employ a full-time mage to open them. He turned the disc over in his hand, remembering the moment Taevyn Fox had pressed it into his palm, the moment she’d left for the last time. She’d made him promise to never, under any circumstances, go near that box. Unless the war came. He wasn’t about to break his last promise to her. So here he was.

“Certainly sir,” the woman took the disc from him. “Your name, please?”

“D’emian Prinder,” he replied calmly. That was the name he had been told the box was registered under. To use his real name in any place affiliated with the crown would mean certain death; he may be depressed, but he wasn’t suicidal. At least, not today. The girl took out a large, leather-bound register, with a golden “P” embossed on the side. Leafing through it for a moment, she found the name he’d given and matched it to his box. Closing the book, she motioned for him to follow her into the back. The room itself was empty, except for a large table with 2 chairs, but every wall was full of lock boxes of varying shapes and sizes. The teller walked over to the box bearing the number 1679 and inserted the disc into the circular opening in the front. The air crackled and several brilliant flashes of light emanated from the box as the wards were broken. The sharp shocks of magic struck him like a blow, disrupting his mental defences. Suddenly, he could feel the power of all the wards humming around him. He had forgotten about the sheer volume of magic in this room, and he hadn’t adequately prepared himself for the onslaught to his senses. He sat down heavily in one of the chairs and struggled to regain his composure before the clerk turned back. Fortunately, she had to wait for a moment, letting the box cool, before she pulled it from the wall and placed it down in front of him. She barely looked at him as she did. He had never been so glad for the disinterest.

“I’ll be up front if you need me,” she walked out of the room and shut the door behind her, to give him privacy.

Alone at last, Av’ry covered his eyes and tried to refocus. His head was pounding and the power bleeding from the luminescent lighting crystals and the boxes along the walls was not helping matters. He cursed how much magic places like this employed, and his own weakness to it. But he had come here for a reason; he just needed to get this done. Taking a deep breath, he pulled the box open and forgot his discomfort. It had been a long time since he had seen that handwriting. It reminded him of better days. He leafed through the papers for a few moments, smiling wistfully. But it was quickly apparent that there was too much here for him to read it all now. No, he needed to get somewhere he could examine these things in depth, somewhere with less eyes on him. Fortunately, he had come prepared for that eventuality. Av’ry quickly stuffed everything into his bag and reclosed the now empty box. Thanking the teller on his way, he hurriedly walked back out into the street.