Free Captain's Fury by Jim Butcher Page B

Rufus Scipio, precisely, since the director of the relief column would quite naturally need to speak to someone on the First Aleran's staff. But Tavi felt it was better if she went unrecognized and attracted no notice—or questions—at all, and she heartily supported his caution.

    As promised, Araris was waiting at the front doors and escorted her past the two legionares on sentry duty there.

    "Good morning," she murmured, as he led her into the building. It was an almost ridiculously overfortified structure, all of the same battlecrafted stone that was generally used only for fortified walls. The halls were more narrow than most, the ceilings lower, and Isana noted with surprise that at the first staircase, Araris led her down, not up, to where a leader's quarters were typically located.

    "Good morning," he replied. His posture and voice were both politely formal, but she could sense the warmth that lay beneath them, radiating out from him like heat from a banked fire. She was certain that he knew she could discern his actual emotions, as well, and the sense of sudden satisfaction in that unspoken trust was a pleasant little thrill, something akin to feeling his fingers intertwine with hers. "We go down two flights to get to his office."

    "Did the Senator displace him?" Isana asked.

    Araris shook his head. "The Canim's sorcery evidently proved quite dangerous. Some kind of lightning bolt wiped out the First Aleran's original officers. When the Legion's engineers built this building, they made sure to put yards and yards of fortified stone over and around the captain, to avoid any repetition."

    Isana shivered. She'd heard about the attack. If Tavi hadn't been sent out to run messages for then-Captain Cyril… "I see," she replied.

    Araris snorted. "The valets set up Arnos on the top level. I suspect they're privately hoping that the Canim will try another lightning bolt and brighten everyone's day."

    Isana repressed a wicked little smile. "Sir Araris," she chided. "That isn't a very kind thing to say."

    "Arnie doesn't have kindness coming," Araris replied. Isana felt a gentle surge of contempt flow out with the words.

    "You know him," she said.

    "We went to the Academy together," Araris replied.

    "You didn't get along?"

    "Oh, he was at my throat constantly—whenever I wasn't actually in the room," he said. "Arnos never had anything to say to my face." Araris reached up with one hand to rub lightly at the mark branded over one cheek. "He was always small-minded, egotistical. He hasn't changed."

    "He's dangerous," Isana said. "Isn't he?"

    "Here? Now? Very." He came to a stop before a heavy, closed door, and turned to look at Isana.

    She met his eyes, and her mouth suddenly felt dry.

    He reached down and took her hand gently in his. He squeezed tightly once. "You can do this."

    She bit her lip and nodded. "What if—"

    He laid two fingers lightly over her lips and gave her a quiet smile. "Don't borrow trouble. Just talk to him. He loves you. It will be all right."

    She closed her eyes tight for a second and brushed the faintest ghost of a kiss against his fingers. Then Isana took a steadying breath, nodded, and said, "Very well."

    Araris turned and opened the door for her. "Captain," he announced quietly. "Steadholder Isana to see you."

    A resonant, deep-chested voice answered in a tone of distracted confidence. "Thank you, Araris. Send her in, please."

    Araris gave Isana another small smile, then stood aside, and Isana walked into Tavi's office. Araris shut the door behind her.

    The office was supremely utilitarian, even stark. There was an old wooden desk, scarred from use, several chairs, and several shelves filled with books and papers and writing materials. The cold stone floor was covered by a few simple rugs, and a box beside the lit fireplace was filled with a neat stack of cordwood. A door led off into another room, and a plain, medium-sized mirror hung upon the same wall.

    He sat at the desk,