Lieutenant Sperry took a little step back as Tybalt finished speaking.

  Still in her crouched position, she seemed to almost lose her balance. Her breath hitched like she’d been struck. She shook her head slowly, and her mouth opened slightly, then closed. Her eyes weren’t on Tybalt anymore. They were somewhere far away—back in that village, in the distant world of that morning.

  Tybalt read her expression carefully. It felt to him as if she had entertained some doubts along the lines that Tybalt was suggesting, but hadn’t wanted to believe them. Her emotions were certainly not feigned, at least not entirely. She was in some degree of shock at this news. He would stake his life on it.

  Observing her reaction, he felt a trace of shame at telling her what she had already been a part of. If she truly did not know, that would be devastating for any moral person. Tybalt did not count himself as one of them, but he remembered what that was like. He would never acknowledge feeling guilty, not now, but there was no pride, even for him, in executing a massacre.

  I can work with this…

  She leaned in and spoke in a low voice. “You’re lying. I don’t know why, but…”

  Her voice trailed off, and Tybalt could tell she didn’t believe what she was saying. Not really. She just wanted to. Sperry had moved in so close that he could count the loose hairs that had fallen in front of her eyes. She hovered there for a moment, silently asking him to tell her it wasn't true.

  After a moment, he filled the silence.

  “If you want to trust the word of the Commander, that’s your business,” he said. “He’s the only one I can imagine would tell you that crap about sending people on their way rather than killing them. I don’t know why he would bother. It’s impossible to keep a secret like that within a squad like this if people want the answers. But if you spoke to any enlisted man, I think he would tell you some version of what I just said. I don’t pretend to be better than Volusia, but I’m not surprised to find out I’m more honest than him.”

  Honesty was a sliding scale in this army, of course.

  “The Commander has mentioned—” She cut herself off mid-sentence, shaking her head again.

  “The Commander is full of crap,” Tybalt said.

  She was probably about to say something about how the Commander says the enlisted men tell tall tales—or that the Commander told her not to fraternize too closely with them or something. She probably sees him as some kind of benevolent father figure, given the age gap. Volusia was almost twice the Lieutenant’s age, if Tybalt estimated correctly that she was slightly younger than Tybalt himself. But the Commander certainly wouldn’t pigeonhole himself into a paternal role. Not with an attractive female officer.

  “I know you two have some sort of personality conflict,” the Lieutenant said hotly after a moment. “I would hope you would be more professional than to address that in this way. Spreading lies about a superior behind his back. And you can put your shirt back on, I’m done checking on you, and you’re not impressing anyone.”

  Slightly stung, more by the comment on his physique than by the part about his professionalism—that was just Sperry’s naivete talking—Tybalt began pulling Baldwin’s gambeson back on.

  “What did he do to make you trust him, anyway?” Tybalt asked. “Betray your own common sense? You know I’m telling the truth, in your gut. You must have known something was going on that was being kept from you, at least. You’re clearly very… detail-oriented. I can’t think of why you’d assume I must be lying about this, implicating myself in a crime to make him look bad. Is it just because he’s a superior officer? Because he acts nice around you? Or—no… you two aren’t…?”

  Sperry took a second to register the implication of Tybalt’s words, then looked disgusted, and though she kept her expression stoic, Tybalt sensed her hands clench and unclench slowly at her sides, making and releasing fists.

  “You’re a real bastard, you know that, Tybalt?” she said after a moment. “That kind of reputation would be…” She shook her head, as if words couldn’t effectively communicate what she meant.

  He understood, of course. No woman who had somehow come to be an officer in the King’s Army could afford to be seen that way.

  “I’ve heard that one before,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “I am a bastard, yes. We’re notoriously untrustworthy. You don’t have to listen to me, you know. You don’t have to ask anyone anything. You could go look and see for yourself. The ruins of the village are still smoking.” She winced at the word; the fire was all her own doing, after all. Tybalt ignored it and pointed a thumb backward, toward the sand dunes of the Salt Waste and away from the mountain range. “I know it’s unpleasant to think about, but pretty lies are pointless. Just a waste of time. Better to swallow the bitter truth. The ibex beastfolk village is right back there. Easy enough to find if you wanted to check out all the dead bodies and see for yourself. It was slaughter, not just a few people who didn’t escape your flames. Most of them are dead from sword and spear wounds, not fire and smoke.” He added that last part to assuage the Lieutenant’s conscience a bit.

  Sperry’s expression remained annoyed and skeptical, but she said nothing in reply, just took a deep breath, shook her head, rose, and stalked off, back to wherever she was making herself at home in the abandoned village they had commandeered.

  I think I got through that all right, Tybalt thought. It wasn’t exactly a fun conversation, but all my secrets are still intact for the moment…

  He turned his head slightly and caught sight of the Lieutenant as she walked away.

  Oh. The sight held him for a moment—longer than he would have liked. He didn’t choose to stare. His body did it for him.

  Sperry was very fit, probably more so than any woman without a class could be. The magic of levels was partly in how they could shape your body, carve you toward an ideal. This was more true of class levels than simple human levels. Some of those with classes grew overly large muscles. Tybalt had seen a few women who were thicker with muscle than the men they served with.

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  But Sperry wore the development well. Strong legs, but slender shoulders. Narrow waist. A firm, well-shaped ass. That feminine sway of her hips that she had somehow maintained despite months of marching alongside male soldiers—Tybalt scowled at himself.

  You know better than this.

  He turned away before she could catch him staring. Even if she might secretly like it. Especially if she would. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction.

  That’s the way with dangerous women. The body says yes, even when the brain says no. He was half annoyed, half enchanted—gods, he loved women!—and the women who might poison your drink or stab you with a broken bottle or challenge you to a duel had their own special allure.

  But following the wrong head would only get him into trouble. He tried to bring his mind back to strategy. How he was going to wipe out his squad. How he would deal with Sperry.

  Which, unfortunately, brought him right back to the last conversation. To her again. He was going to have to seduce her or kill her—or both—and the more he thought about it, the more he believed he hadn’t made the best opening move.

  I didn’t get the chance to press her on the stuff I’ve actually been curious about these months since she transferred, he thought. Why did she join the army? How did she wind up in our squad? Who did she piss off? It couldn’t be that she just wanted field experience. There are far better places for that.

  He had been working off the assumption she was a noble, with some connections. Maybe he was wrong.

  I need to get at her secrets. Crawl under her skin.

  Baldwin suddenly stepped into Tybalt’s field of view and then sat down next to him without waiting to be invited. Tybalt had sensed him coming but not paid it much attention. Baldwin was an asset, probably permanently, and an intelligent one, not someone whose movements Tybalt needed to constantly monitor. Save that for potential enemies. He only had so much attention to go around.

  “So, you were talking to her for a while,” Baldwin said in a low voice. “Did anything come up that I should be concerned about?”

  “I did not confess to being a dark magic user, Baldwin,” Tybalt whispered, grinning. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

  “So?” Baldwin asked. What happened? he added through the mental channel.

  That was the part that needed to be communicated telepathically? Tybalt shot back.

  All of it should probably be silent, Baldwin acknowledged. Why are you making me beg for answers, master? I need to know if she’s onto us, don’t I? Or if she’s getting close? He tilted his head at the Lieutenant. If necessary, maybe we could take her. Ambush her when she walks off alone?

  No, I’m trying to do… something with her, Tybalt sent. I don’t think she’s going to catch on to what’s going on with us anytime soon. I just gave her a lot to think about. She could be made vulnerable to an attack, if we’re clever about it. But killing her is a last resort for me at the moment. Out of all the members of our squad, she’s the only one with a class. In a pinch, at full mana, she could probably take most of the squad down alone. The specific nature of her class makes her dangerous to us. Fire magic, holy magic, and healing magic are the strongest counters to necromancy and pestilence magic.

  Baldwin looked exasperated now. That sounds very fucking dangerous for us. Why don’t you want to kill her as soon as we have the opportunity?

  Tybalt didn’t particularly like the tone of Baldwin’s inner voice, but he enjoyed having someone he could bounce his plans off of. He knew it was a lucky fluke that Baldwin had been raised as an intelligent undead and that, probably, few of Tybalt’s future creations would retain their intelligence. So he tried to simply be grateful for the revenant.

  Because that also makes her a strong potential asset, Tybalt explained. I’ve been reviewing my necromancy book and my pestilence mage book. At a certain level, a pestilence mage can get resistance or immunity to others’ pestilences. I’m betting that she can get immunity to fire, too, if she doesn’t have it already. Ideally, I would turn her against the army and the Kingdom—without first killing her and turning her into an undead. If she was on our side, she could be our counter to other fire mages. I don’t know what happens if she becomes an undead—if her class resets to level one or she loses it completely or something. But out of all this squad, she’s the only one who I would prefer not to kill if it’s avoidable. She already thinks a little differently than the rest. I don’t know if she’s just sheltered or what. I need to understand her better. But if she could be motivated to help us willingly, she would be a powerful ally.

  She’s very fucking sheltered, Baldwin sent. Part of why I’m bothered by you spending so much time talking to her is that the Commander’s been keeping her in a sort of bubble. It’s subtle, but you remember how he’s sort of pushed us enlisted away from being too chummy with her?

  I honestly thought that was mostly a sexual harassment thing, given what happened with Tarquin…

  That’s probably part of it, but I’m pretty sure it’s more than that. Volusia tells guys who interact with her regularly what they can and can’t say to her. Those people who he places under her command on any given mission are hand-picked men who are thick with the Commander. This is more than just trying to protect her from sexual harassment.

  And more than just trying to make her feel safe so the Commander can try to take advantage himself? Tybalt asked skeptically.

  Baldwin nodded slowly. I think so.

  And your thinking is that I’m supposed to mind what the Commander thinks at the same time that I’m trying to maybe turn Sperry against him, Tybalt added.

  I’m just suggesting that you be careful, master, Baldwin sent. Looking out for you is how I look out for myself, right?

  Tybalt sighed deeply and furrowed his brow.

  I hate that you’re probably right, Tybalt sent. I’m probably missing something important here. But I think what I’m doing with her might pay serious dividends. It’s worth a little risk.

  Baldwin shrugged but looked satisfied.

  You clearly have some big moves in mind, he sent telepathically, hoping for more details.

  Tybalt nodded. Yes, I want to destroy the existing order, he replied—deliberately keeping things a little vague. Big moves are going to be the rule. Big gambles, too.

  “Well, I hope you know what you’re doing,” Baldwin said under his breath.

  So do I, Tybalt thought.

  The fire mage had her own secrets, he recognized, along with whatever the Commander was keeping hidden. Tybalt would have to investigate her while evading her suspicions about him and ideally keeping below Volusia’s radar. Depending on what Sperry’s secrets were, she might either ruin his plans completely or help them come to fruition.