“She’s very good at putting a man to the question,” Bo said, either missing or ignoring the innuendo in Adamat’s tone. He cracked his knuckles and headed down the long line of millstones. “Not as good as I am, but then, I am a cabal Privileged.” Bo glanced over his shoulder as if to be sure Fell was gone, then said, “Don’t trust that woman.”
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
“Good. She’s loyal to Ricard and to her precious Academy. Nothing else. And I’m not even sure if she’s more loyal to Ricard than she is to the Academy.”
“I imagine she’d say the same thing to me about you,” Adamat said.
“Oh,” Bo said, “I don’t think you should trust me, either. But you only have to deal with me for another couple of days. As soon as this Vetas business is cleaned up and I think your family is safe, I’m in the wind.”
Bo led Adamat down the stairs at the end of the room and into the wheel room beneath the mill. For each of the millstones above them, there was a wheel down here with one end dipped in the water. Or at least, there used to be. Most of them were missing, leaving an empty channel of water flowing through one side of the floor.
Lord Vetas was strapped to an upright gurney in one corner. His arms were missing — of course, Bo had taken those off two days ago. A bloody blanket covered his body; likely more for Adamat’s sake than for Vetas’s. His eyes were closed, his breathing shallow.
Bo kicked the gurney and Vetas’s eyes shot open. He immediately tried to recoil from Bo, but his bonds kept that from happening.
“You remember our friend Adamat?” Bo asked.
“Yes,” Vetas whispered, not taking his eyes from Bo.
“He has a few questions. Answer them.”
Adamat centered himself before his former tormentor and tried to force himself to remember what Vetas had done to his family. This pitiful creature before him didn’t deserve pity or compassion.
“Where is my son?” Adamat asked.
“I don’t know.”
“What happened to him?”
“Sold him.”
Adamat rocked back on his heels. “Sold him? What do you mean?”
“Slavers.”
“There are no slavers in Adopest!”
A hideous giggle wormed its way up through Vetas’s throat, only for him to swallow it when Bo took a step forward. “Kez smugglers,” Vetas said, his voice still quiet. “Used to take powder mages out from under Tamas’s nose and send them in to Kez.”
“My boy is not a powder mage,” Adamat said.
Vetas blinked back at him. His eyes, once serpentine and unfeeling, were now just… dead, was the only way to describe them. They showed fear when they glanced toward Bo, but other than that, nothing.
“Why would you sell him to the Kez?”
“My Privileged said he was a powder mage.”
Adamat began to pace. Josep, a Marked? That seemed impossible. “How long ago?”
“A week.”
“Have they taken him from the country?” Adamat felt his chest tighten as he began to panic. Smugglers dealing in human beings — especially powder mages — wouldn’t wait to get their cargo out of the country. In all likelihood, Josep was gone already, far beyond Adamat’s reach.
“I’d imagine,” Vetas said.
“What do they want them for?” Adamat said. “The Kez don’t want powder mages alive. They’ve no need for smugglers. They use assassins.”
“Experimentation,” Vetas said.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Just a guess.”
“Where can I find them?”
Vetas looked away for a moment. Adamat stepped forward menacingly. There was no fear in Vetas’s eyes. Not until Bo began to rub his thumb and forefinger together.
“A pub near the waterfront,” Vetas said, his eyes twitching toward the water flowing through the mill trough.
A pub, eh? Probably not more than half a mile from this very place. “Tell me everything,” Adamat said.
He questioned Vetas for half an hour, getting the names of contacts, locations, and passwords. He had to be thorough. Slavers in a place as civilized as Adopest tended to operate in utmost secrecy, and would have taken dozens of precautions.
Adamat finished his questions and headed immediately toward the door. He couldn’t get away from Vetas fast enough. The man revolted him. He’d taken Adamat’s wife and children and put them through unspeakable trials. He’d plotted against Adro, and he’d dealt with the lowliest of scum.
Bo jogged to catch up with Adamat as he climbed the stairs back to the mill’s main floor.
“You didn’t ask him anything else,” Bo said.
“I don’t need to know anything else.”
“Claremonte’s plans? His designs on Adro? You don’t want to know all that?”
Adamat stopped and turned to the Privileged. “Later. I have to get my son back.”
“It’s too late. If slavers have him, he’ll be out of the country by now.”
“How would you know?” Adamat demanded.
“Common sense,” Bo said. “And remember. The royal cabal was a dark place. Dealing with slaves was one of many things they did.”
“Bah!” Adamat strode toward the front of the mill.
Bo kept up, much to his annoyance. “We’ve been questioning Vetas for two days. Claremonte is planning something big. Not even Vetas knows it all, but Claremonte might even have plans of invasion!”
“And I suppose you’re going to help stop him?”
