The Cadet of Tildor by Alex Lidell

accountable.”
    “Mmm.” Savoy snapped off the arrow shaft protruding from his shoulder. “I tremble at your importance nowadays, Senior Palace Guardsman Fisker.”
    The captain rubbed her temple. “Excuse me, cadet, but I must prevent Servant Savoy and Guardsman Fisker from shredding each other to ribbons.”
    “They’re acquainted?”
    “Eh?” The captain pulled her gaze from the men. “Oh, them. Fisker claims Savoy cost him a finger.”
    Renee stared at the familiar scarred stump. “Did he?”
    The captain chuckled. “I believe Junior Guardsman Fisker once fell from his horse and cut his hand because Cadet Savoy loosened the saddle girth. But it was embarrassment, not Cadet Savoy, that kept him from attending the Healer until the small gash festered to a problem.” She shook her head. “Guardsman Fisker’s duty is his life, cadet, and Commander Savoy has cost him his pride too often. Between Vipers, the Family, and Commander Savoy, I’m unsure whom Guardsman Fisker hates more. And,” she added as Savoy grinned at Fisker’s reddening face, “that overgrown adolescent feeds the fire each chance he gets.” She shook her head. “Make certain the Healer checks you,” the captain said, nodding at the cuts on Renee’s arm before turning to prevent a brawl.
    Overgrown adolescent
. Renee almost laughed. Then grimaced. You didn’t laugh on the heels of battle. Did you?
    Renee let herself out, wondering why her hands had only now started to tremble.

CHAPTER 11
    T he news of the attack must have already reached the Academy. Alec ambushed Renee on her way to the Healer’s office and followed her inside, toward the reek of salves and dried herbs.
    Despite the late hour, Healer Grovener, a tall, dry twig of a man, looked as immaculate as his workspace. He pursed his lips, spreading disapproval between Renee and the hovering Alec, as if the twin assaults on her flesh and his workspace were a personal affront. He went to wash his hands.
    Renee drew a breath, held it, and exhaled slowly. Injuries and Healings were facts of training for fighter cadets, but that didn’t make the experience pleasant. Rubbing her face, she stared at the only spot of color in the room—a painting depicting a woman with a blue glow and an eagle perched on her shoulder; Keraldi, who first described the barrier to Healers, some thousand years back.
    “I brought that.” A boy in a Healer’s apprentice robe smiled at her and adjusted his round spectacles. “It’s Keraldi and her bonded mage bird, Talon. Once the bond took, they shared sights and feelings.”
    “Did they?” Renee raised an eyebrow. This was an old story. Keraldi might have managed to
tame
a mage bird, yes, but more likely Talon was just an eagle. And for certain, the bond was a myth.
    Alec shrugged. “There’s some evidence for bonding being real. Mostly from before the rebellion, when mages were stronger and mage beasts more common . . . ”
    Renee grunted doubtfully, but little wanted to debate. “You know entirely too much mage history,” she said instead, poking his chest. “But at least you’re smart enough never to try to pet a mage beast.” Lore held that only wild animals—and of those, only predators—showed Control abilities. The best to be said for animal mages was that they were mercifully rare now. “
Right?
” she pressed.
    Alec smiled, but it failed to hide the worry from his eyes.
    “I’m really all right,” Renee told him quietly as Savoy entered the room. She bowed a greeting to the man, uncomfortably aware that despite an arrow cutting his shoulder, he had controlled the room and King Lysian both, while Renee had been pushed around and nearly failed to shift the heavy shutter.
    Alec squeezed her uninjured arm and stepped away to lean against the wall.
    “I saw a mage wolf once,” the apprentice said. “Defending her cubs from a bear. The wolves will run usually, you know, but not this one. She had the bear writhing on the ground