Page 162 of Unbound

"So you're saying someone should know these weapons are missing," I say. "Somebody high up. Or somebody with enough power to cover up that number of weapons going missing is helping them?"

Ambrose nods. "Right. Either way, somebody important with a lot of power is trying to help Malakai and his people slaughter us during the Crucible."

"Legacies have power and connections," Mireen says slowly. "Could it be one of them? Bastian, maybe?"

"No," I say a little too quickly. I wince when every head in the room turns to me.

A faint throb of jealous anger flashes in my mind. I have no doubt it's from Raith.

"It just doesn't add up," I continue. "If Raith told you everything, I assume he told you about the conversation we heard Bastian having with his father."

Mireen's eyes fall. "That's right. Bastian wanted him to call off the Crucible entirely. Not exactly logical if you're risking everything to smuggle weapons in to make it more deadly."

"Unless he planned on you hearing that conversation," Ambrose suggests. "Or if the weapons are for something else unrelated to the Crucible."

"There are more legacies," Beck says. "I only know of one that wishes he could get in Nessa's pants. Probably safer to assume it's another one of them. Or somebody completely on the outside. Does it really matter, though? The bad guys are going to have sharp pokey sticks. So fucking what? We've got magic and elementals. Fuck 'em and their weapons."

"How many weapons are we talking about?" I ask.

"Enough to arm at least forty students," Mireen says grimly. "Maybe more."

"Brunhild has been helping us develop counter-strategies," Mireen adds. "She's surprisingly knowledgeable about fighting against armed opponents when you're unarmed. Considering we’ll have practice blades, we might as well be against their military-grade steel.."

"Is common where I come from," Brunhild shrugs. "Raiders, pirates. Must know how to fight when surprised."

"She's been showing us some techniques," Beck says, a note of admiration in his voice. "You should see her disarm someone. It's... impressive."

"I teach you tomorrow, Nessa," Brunhild tells me.

"Looking forward to it," I say, meaning it. "But why should we let them keep those weapons? We know where they are, right? What's stopping us from stealing them?"

"No," Raith says. "You're still too weak."

"I can manage."

"We only found out about this because a girl who was with Malakai wanted to join our side," Beck says. "Obviously, we didn't trust her. But then she started spilling secrets like the weapons stash."

"Then we need to ask her how the room is protected," I say. "We find a way to steal those weapons or destroy them. That's the plan."

Beck nods. "I'll ask her after we're done here. She has channeling class right now. She's an earth. Pretty, too. You should see her?—"

Brunhild silences Beck with a hard smack to the back of the head. "He keeps his eyes to himself and Brunhild, or he loses them."

Beck's grin is sideways. "She's some woman, isn't she?"

"There's more," Mireen says, voice dropping lower. "Voss cornered me after Military Tactics this morning. He's asking about Nessa."

The mention of the Rector sobers me immediately. "What did he want?"

"Questions about your recovery. When you'd be ready to see him. But this time..." she hesitates, exchanging glances with Ambrose, "he specifically asked if your healing abilities had manifested again since the incident with the siphon."

A chill runs through me. "How would he know about that? And how does he know you know?"

"Exactly," Ambrose says. "We've been careful not to mention your healing around anyone but our immediate circle. The only people who know are in this room. Yet he seemed to know not only that you healed Raith, but that it might be a recurring ability."

"He was there," I remind them. "When the siphon attacked. Maybe he saw more than I realized. Or he could know the effects of void magic exposure? What if the only way Raith could've survived was with some kind of healing magic?"

"Maybe," Mireen says slowly. "But something about the way he asked felt... calculated. Like he was confirming something he already knew."

---