Among Wolves

The first thing I noticed when I woke was sunlight on the wrong wall.

For several seconds, that was the most alarming thing in the room.

Then I remembered the bakery, the walk back through streets that had grown steadily louder around us, and sitting down on the edge of my bed with every intention of removing my boots before deciding sleep was more important.

One boot was still on.

The other had somehow reached the floor beside the washbasin.

They were mysteries I had no intention of solving.

The light coming through the window had turned amber, which meant I had slept through most of the day.

Somewhere below, the guild was making enough noise to suggest nobody had considered lowering their voices for the benefit of a man who had spent the entire night making poor decisions.

I couldn’t exactly complain.

I washed, changed the bandage on my arm and went downstairs.

The guild looked different in the evening light.

Not in any literal sense. The same scratched tables occupied the same uneven floor, the notice board had accumulated three new requests while I slept, and somebody had once again placed a bucket beneath the leaking patch in the ceiling rather than fixing it.

Sunlight from the western windows stretched across the room in broad gold bands. Dust moved through it whenever someone passed. A blue coat hung from a peg near the entrance, far brighter than anything that ugly had a right to be.

I noticed all of that before I noticed the exits, which was becoming a concern.

Marek and Tessa were at the large table near the middle of the room.

Marek had a contract spread open in front of him and was pretending to read it while Tessa corrected whatever numbers he had written in the margin.

A loose strand of her crimson bob was wound around one finger, which meant she was either thinking or trying not to hit him.

With Marek, both were usually possible.

I could have gone to Gideon’s office first, which would have been practical, but I crossed the room instead.

Tessa noticed me before Marek did.

Her brown eyes lifted, then narrowed slightly as though she expected me to say something irritating.

Not a bad assumption.

Marek looked up a moment later.

“You’re alive.”

“I was last time I checked.”

“That’s a shame. We were debating whether to sell your room.”

“You would get more for my sword.”

Tessa put down the pencil.

I should have sat. Instead, I remained standing beside the table while several sentences arranged themselves in my head, rejected one another and eventually left me with the least comfortable version.

“I’m sorry.”

Marek blinked, and Tessa stopped winding the strand around her finger.

Somewhere behind me, a cup hit a table hard enough to spill something.

Neither of them looked away.

This had been a mistake.

“I shouldn’t have left the way I did,” I added before self-preservation could interfere. “And I shouldn’t have decided that being around me was something you needed protecting from.”

The words felt wrong coming out of my mouth.

Naturally.

“I treated both of you like you didn’t get a say.”

Marek opened his mouth, seemed to reconsider whatever he was about to say, then tried again.

“Did you hit your head as well?”

There it was.

“And here I was trying to be nice.”

Tessa’s lips twitched.

“Don’t ruin it. I want to remember the moment.”

“You have both made this considerably harder than it had to be.”

“Good,” Marek said. “Wouldn’t want you getting comfortable.”

I looked between them.

Neither asked me to explain myself further nor did they tell me it was fine. Tessa simply kicked the empty chair beside her away from the table—an invitation disguised as an inconvenience. I recognised the technique and sat.

Marek looked back down at the contract.

“You can help with this as penance.”

“No.”

“That apology lasted almost twelve seconds.”

“It had an excellent run.”

Tessa laughed and pushed the paper towards me anyway. I stayed until Gideon called my name from the stairs.

His office smelled of ink, old wood and whatever tea he had forgotten to drink this time.

Gideon sat behind the desk with three sheets spread in front of him.

His silver hair caught the evening light along one side, making him look more tired than usual and somehow less old.

I closed the door behind me.

“What do we know?”

His eyes lifted.

“About?”

“Cedric.”

Gideon leaned back in his chair and tapped one of the pages.

“His promotion announcement has been confirmed. Captain of the Imperial Knights. The formal ceremony has not been scheduled publicly yet.”

“He’s still moving through the capital?”

“Yes. Constantly.”

“Where?”

“The palace, the barracks and the War Office. Several meetings that look exactly like the sort of meetings a soon-to-be-promoted officer should be attending.”

“That’s inconvenient.”

“I’ll apologise to him for maintaining a believable public life.”

The corner of my mouth pulled upwards before I could stop it.

So that’s what I sound like.

The door opened behind me without a knock.

Isabelle stepped inside carrying a folded packet beneath one arm. Her crimson ponytail had loosened slightly near the base, a few strands catching against her cheek from whatever part of the city she had crossed to get here.

“Please don’t,” she said.

“I was wondering when you’d return.”

“You could sound happier about it.”

She dropped the packet beside Gideon’s papers and took the other chair.

“My father’s people checked the names from the records we already had. Nothing direct. Cedric has spent years appearing exactly where his position gives him a reason to be.”

I looked at the pages.

“Then we’re looking at this backwards.”

Both of them looked at me, and I pulled a sheet closer.

“We keep asking where Cedric goes that would make him look suspicious. If he’s survived this long, there may not be anywhere like that.”

Isabelle rested one elbow on the chair.

“So?”

“Find the ordinary places. Watch who leaves them differently after he arrives.”

Gideon’s thumb moved once across the scar on his hand.

“Contacts.”

“People, messages—anything he doesn’t need to do himself.”

Isabelle leaned towards the papers.

“He’s at the central barracks tomorrow morning.”

“And the palace after midday,” Gideon added.

I traced the route between the two on the rough city map beneath the documents.

“He won’t use the same people everywhere.”

“No,” Isabelle said. “But if someone keeps appearing near him when they shouldn’t…”

I nodded.

“Then we’ll follow them.”

The room went quiet, and Gideon looked between us.

“I can have two people positioned near the barracks.”

“Not too close,” I said. “If Cedric sees the same face twice, he’ll remember it.”

Isabelle reached for the map.

“We can cover the eastern route ourselves.”

“Good.”

I shifted one of the markers.

“Then we start there. If we find nothing, we widen it. We need to know who he trusts enough to use.”

The sentence passed without comment.

It took me several breaths to realise I had said we.

By then, Gideon was already arguing with Isabelle about whether one of the palace side gates was still open after dusk.

I decided not to examine it too closely.

Some things improved when left alone.

When we finished, the guild downstairs had moved from dinner into the louder portion of the evening.

Marek had somehow acquired another deck of cards. Tessa saw me on the stairs and raised one eyebrow towards the empty chair. I walked over and pulled it out myself.

Nobody said anything.

That was exactly what I wanted.