"We can't lean on you forever."
Jean's words made Kali turn from the weapon rack with a smirk. The Sala d'Armi was empty save for the three of them, the morning light slanting in through the tall windows, and the racks of steel along the walls. Sabres, rapiers, the long cavalry blades of the previous century. Kali had drifted to the stand of imperial rapiers and was running one fingertip along the guard of the slimmest of them, weighing the blades with her eye.
"I covered for you, didn't I? And Astarte and I, I think, are 'friends' now."
"Not every duel will go the way Felix's did." Jean folded his arms.
"Such charming toys you keep as well," Kali drew her fingers along the schiavona. "Humans have come a long way in the art of killing one another."
"None of them would have saved us from a mage." Jean shook his head. "Or from any enkai."
Sophie stepped closer.
"It's odd that she took a contract on you at all. The whole thing reeks of politics."
"Either she was played blind, or she's young and stupid, or both." Jean turned back to Kali. "Either way, we need magic, not steel. We have to deepen the bond."
Kali tilted her head, clasped her hands to her chest, and shifted her voice into a sweet, childlike coo.
"Darling," she murmured. "You forget you're my first. Please... be gentle."
Sophie rolled her eyes.
"Kali, enough. We were almost killed the day before yesterday. We need a teacher."
Kali studied her from under lowered lashes.
"I've never been bound by a pact before. I don't know what it looks like from your side. Send for someone who does. You have your Jacopo, don't you?"
"You can be useful when it suits you." Sophie nodded. "I'll go."
"Don't bother." Kali turned toward the door. "They're already there. Breathing on the other side of it."
The door swung open. Jacopo came in first, a pitcher of water on a tray held before him like an offering. Grey hair, grey beard trimmed close, back straight as a rule. The doublet did nothing to disguise the corded forearms beneath it, and two clean towels lay folded across one arm.
Benedetto slipped in behind him.
Black livery without a crease in it. Hair so pale it was almost white, cropped close. Grey, narrow eyes with the temper of a rapier blade. He looked like Jacopo sharpened down to a younger version of himself.
Kali tracked him to the wall, where he came to rest with his hands behind his back, more clockwork than demon.
"You called, messire?" Jacopo set the tray on the side table by the rack and bowed.
"Yes." Jean straightened. "Have you had word from Maestro Meazza?"
"Yes, messire. Maestro Meazza will arrive tomorrow for breakfast."
"Excellent news." Jean searched for words. "In the meantime, could you work with Sophie and me? Show us the first things about handling energy?"
Jacopo lowered his eyes.
"I would not presume, Messire. I am a humble servant. I am no teacher."
Sophie stepped forward.
"Jacopo. I've known you all my life. There's no time for ceremony. We are in danger. Every minute counts."
Jacopo relented.
"Of course, Madame. There are things I can show you. Let us begin with energy and the bond. That is the foundation of foundations."
"Then you are the maestro, and we are the students," Jean said. "Give your commands, teacher."
Jacopo hesitated again.
"With your permission, I would speak to Madame Kali."
Sophie waved a hand.
"Yes, please."
"Sit together, all three of you, and take Madame Kali by the hands." Jacopo started the lesson. "Physical contact is not strictly necessary for the energy, but it will make it easier for you to feel."
He turned to Kali.
"During the meditation I will signal with my hand when to strengthen the flow on your side, and when to dampen it, so that Messire Jean and Madame Sophie can learn the difference."
Jean caught his eye.
"Drop the 'Messire' and 'Madame'. You are the maestro. We are the students."
"Yes, Me— as you command, sir." Jacopo drew a breath, gathering himself. "Kali, please send no more than what would be needed to light a candle. They must learn to feel, not to burn."
Jean lowered himself to the matting, tucked his legs beneath him, and sat back on his heels. Kali settled to his right, spine straight. Sophie took his left. Jacopo and Benedetto knelt opposite.
"Place your hand here." Jacopo touched his own belly. "Close your eyes. Breathe smoothly... deeply... do you feel the warmth?"
Sophie frowned with concentration. Beneath her palm, by degrees, a shy warmth began to gather.
"Picture a flame above the crown of your head," Jacopo continued. "A small one. The size of a fist. It warms but does not burn. With each breath it sinks lower, passing down through your skull, warming you as it goes. The breathing you have known since childhood. But now you must learn to feel the energy itself. Not only quiet the mind."
"Yes..." Sophie exhaled in surprise. "It's a strange sensation."
"Imagine it descending further. Through your body and out through the floor. Imagine that you and the flame have become one. You are a pillar of fire."
Jean focused, following the level voice. At first it felt like simple imagination. Then the image began to hold its own weight.
"In some places," he said, "it's hotter than in others."
"That is well. So it should be. Where do you feel the strongest centres?"
Sophie, eyes still closed, raised her palm to her belly, then to her chest, then between her brows.
"Here. Here. And here."
"Now take Kali by the hands, and picture the flame coming not from above, but in through your palms. Picture each other. Picture the flame flowing through the three of you."
Jean took Kali's left hand, Sophie's right, and their fingers laced together.
"Yes, I have it," Jean said, brow drawn. "But it's only pictures so far."
"Patience. First the mind must learn to hold the image. Breathe deeply. Try to push the breath all the way into your belly, with the chest unmoving."
Jacopo signalled Kali.
Kali nodded, and let a hair-thin thread of energy slip down the channel.
Sophie frowned. "Nothing. Only the heat."
"Nothing," Jean confirmed.
Jacopo signalled Kali to stop.
"Keep breathing," he said. "When it comes you may feel it as a tingle, or a heat, or a kind of lightning. Each of us is different."
He signalled the demoness again.
And Kali, smirking, drove a raw, scalding wave of power down the channel.
The effect was instantaneous.
A red flash burst behind Jean's eyes. Every thought went out at once. Only instinct remained. He was on his feet before he knew he had moved.
Enemy. Kill. His leg launched into a lightning-fast low kick at Jacopo's seated head.
Sophie snarled, her fingers spread into talons, and lunged for Benedetto's eyes.
Jacopo went down to the mat like water poured out of a glass, and Jean's foot whispered through the air where his head had been.
Benedetto pivoted, slipped past Sophie's lunge, caught her wrist in passing, and drove her face-first into the matting with the arm locked behind her back. A knee came down to pin her at the shoulder.
Jean, riding the same red current, drove a stamping kick down at the prone Jacopo. The old butler had already snapped upright like a coiled spring. He slipped the kick, stepped inside Jean's reach, and stood close enough to count the lashes on his eyelids.
"Stand down!" He thundered.
Kali cut the flow.
The command, weighted by a mage's will, pierced the veil of rage. Jean halted where he was.
His fist had stopped a finger's breadth from Jacopo's liver. Vision cleared, ordinary light returning. He stood in a fighting stance, chest working, his heart kicking at his ribs. Sophie lay face down with her arm twisted into the small of her back, Benedetto kneeling lightly across her shoulder.
Kali watched them like a child judging an interesting beetle.
"Now that, was something."
Jacopo closed his eyes, exhaled, and stepped back, speaking with a new hardness:
"Madame Kali. I asked for a candle. You gave them a forest fire."
"It worked, didn't it?" She shrugged.
"Jean. Sophie. Breathe deep." Jacopo got back to teaching. "There is no threat."
Benedetto eased off Sophie and helped her sit up. She blinked at the hall as it came back to her.
Jean looked at his hands, which refused to steady:
"What," he managed, hoarse, "what was that. I wanted to kill you. For a second, I actually wanted to kill you."
Sophie ran her tongue along her lip and winced.
"Damn. I bit through it."
Kali rose and shook out her dress.
"At least you felt it."
Jacopo drew a long breath.
"Madame Kali, this is dangerous. Until they learn to govern it, they will hurt themselves. And others."
"Don't be a bore," Kali waved him off. "You are tougher than you let on, and I won't let them get hurt."
Sophie sank back to the floor. Jean settled opposite her, legs stretched out, breath evening out. She reached for her lip, her fingers slow to find it. A red spot remained on the pad of her finger.
Jean held Kali's eyes.
"Kali. Today, Jacopo is our teacher. You'll do as he says."
Kali crossed her arms but inclined her head.
"Only think how sweet it will be to spill that fury on enemies. The little kitten downstairs owes us blood."
"We need to question her, Kali. Not kill her." Jean got to his feet. "Information. Not revenge. Smell the difference."
"Conversation goes more smoothly from a position of strength."
"It isn't a debate," Sophie said, rising after him.
Kali rolled her eyes.
"Fine. Yes. I understand. You're both so terribly tedious."
Jacopo straightened.
"And yet you did feel it. Truly. That, I think, is enough for one day. Practise after the midday meal and again before bed. Tomorrow, Maestro Meazza will show you how to bridle it."
"Thank you, Jacopo." Jean nodded.
Jacopo and Benedetto bowed and withdrew.
"Shall we go and see our guest?" Jean asked.
The three of them moved down the corridor toward the cell where the prisoner was held. Their footsteps slid back at them off the stone walls of the undercroft.
Jean tried to keep his breathing even. Adrenaline still moved in his veins, leaving a sour metal taste at the back of his tongue.
"With the enkai, we go carefully. I press. You offer her hope. Hint that she can walk out alive if she helps us."
Sophie swallowed. Her hand kept finding the wall as she walked, fingers brushing the stone as if she needed it to confirm the world was still where she had left it.
"You're Big Bad Daddy, I'm Kind Sweet Mommy."
Kali strolled at their heels, her smile widening like a slow sunrise.
"Of course, darlings."