37
Firian
There was a horrible silence. Firian realized he still had the knife in his hand. It felt heavier than usual. He put it in its sheath.
Conflicting thoughts overlapped each other as Kiria stared at him, aghast. The buzz he’d felt when he entered the fortress made more sense now. At first, he had blamed the feeling on Kiria. Like an i***t, he hadn’t recognized the obvious. Sentries. He knew what they felt like—he knew the difference. That meant that Tanyu were here. But why hadn’t he known? And why did the Academy shield them from his mind? The messenger wore the outfit of a Carradoc soldier, not a Tanyu.
He had a feeling—not a terrible feeling, but a blank, sure feeling—that the Academy had planned all of this. In such a storm of thoughts, this fact only bothered him vaguely.
