“You’d better keep a closer watch on your ’Kent-kissing buckles,” Gwenna said, shouldering into the conversation. Her green eyes flashed with rage, and she planted a finger right in the middle of Valyn’s chest, driving her nail into his sternum. “You almost ended up in the drink back there.”
“I know,” Valyn replied, refusing to step back.
“He just found out his father was murdered,” Gent protested.
“Oh, the poor thing,” Gwenna snapped back. “Maybe we should keep him on bed rest and spoon-feed him warm milk for a week.”
“Gwenna,” Talal began, holding out a hand to placate her, “there’s no need—”
“There’s every fucking need,” she replied acidly. “He makes a mistake because his head’s in the clouds, he could get himself killed. He could get someone else killed.”
“Give it a rest, Gwenna,” Gent rumbled, his voice menacing as a distant avalanche.
She ignored both the other cadets and fixed her green eyes on Valyn. “I catch you doing something like that again, I’m reporting it. I’ll report it straight to Rallen. You understand?”
Valyn met her gaze squarely. “I appreciate the fact that you noticed the buckle. Could have saved my life. But I left my mother eight years ago when I set sail for the Islands, and I don’t need you stepping in to play the role.”
She pursed her lips as though she intended to argue the point. He took half a step backwards, shifting his weight and freeing his hand from his belt. The Kettral were a prickly bunch, and arguments, even small arguments, often came to blows. He had no idea why Gwenna was so mad, but he’d seen her take a swing at other cadets before, and he wasn’t about to be caught wrong-footed. Back on the mainland, there were plenty of fools who would have scoffed at the threat of a woman’s punch—but back on the mainland, the women weren’t trained to crush your trachea or gouge out an eye. After a tense moment, however, Gwenna shook her head, snarled something about “fucking incompetence,” and stalked off toward the barracks.
Silence reigned until Gent broke in, voice like a sack of rocks rolling downhill. “I think she’s sweet on you.”
Valyn coughed out a laugh. “I’ll tell you one thing. If she’s assigned to my Wing after the Trial, you both have permission to strangle me in my sleep.”
“Might be better to strangle her,” Ha Lin chimed in. She had landed on the next bird and must have joined them just as Gwenna made her dramatic exit. “That’s the usual idea, you know, Val. Enemy dead. You alive. That sort of thing? Maybe you haven’t been following along too closely the last few years.”
“Gwenna’s not the enemy,” Talal demurred.
“Oh no,” Lin said, “she’s a fucking peach.”
Valyn found himself grinning. “I’m fine as long as she doesn’t try to shove one of her flickwicks somewhere uncomfortable and light the fuse.”
“A man wants to die with his limbs and his dignity intact,” Gent agreed. “Stabbed. Poisoned. Drowned. Those are fine…” He trailed off, realizing what he was saying. “I’m sorry, Val. I’m a horse’s ass.…”
Valyn waved the apology aside. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to stop talking shop because my father’s dead.”
“What about your brother?” Talal asked. “Is he safe?”
Valyn looked over sharply at the leach. It was a sensible question, given the circumstances, but it struck too close to Valyn’s own worries for comfort. Was the leach prying for information?
“Of course he’s safe,” Gent responded, “out there at the ass end of the known world. Who’s going to kill him? Another monk?”
Talal shook his head. “Someone betrayed Sanlitun. If they could kill one Emperor, they could kill another.”
“It’d take anyone the better part of a season to get to the Bone Mountains if they left yesterday on a fast horse,” Lin broke in, setting a hand on Valyn’s shoulder. “Kaden—the Emperor, I should say—will be fine.”
“Unless someone got on that fast horse a few months ago,” Valyn interjected. It was maddening, not knowing what, exactly, had happened to his father. He was clenching his fist, he realized, and with an effort he loosened the fingers.
“Val,” Lin replied, “you’re making the whole thing sound like some grand plot.”
“Probably just a disgruntled idiot with a death wish,” Gent added.
A grand plot. That was precisely what the Aedolian had suggested.