67 – Tithe
byVivi woke to banging on her door.
“Lady Vivi?” came Saffra’s muffled, distressed voice. “Lady Vivi, are you awake?”
Distressed?
It was embarrassing how much adrenaline dumped into her veins. She didn’t even bother rolling out of bed. She [Blinked] past the doorway, materializing next to Saffra with staff raised. After finding nothing but a startled red-haired catgirl, Vivi realized she might have overreacted. She dispelled her weapon and, after a brief awkward pause in which Saffra gawked at her, she prompted, “Yes? What is it?”
“Um. S-sorry. I know it’s late.”
However unwilling Saffra was to share her thoughts, Vivi appreciated how easy the girl could be to read at times. Her flattened ears and drooping tail told her everything she needed to know. That Saffra didn’t want to be here, asking whatever she was about to ask. So it was important.
Which had her hackles raised. Her apprentice wasn’t someone to go requesting things frivolously. And considering Vivi’s previous encounters with the Duke—which she and Rafael planned to tackle thoroughly tomorrow—she was primed to expect a disaster.
“I’m not sure how to go about this,” Saffra mumbled, looking down at the floor. “Can I ask you a favor?”
“You can.”
Saffra seemed startled at the quick response. “Do you remember that girl we ran into at the library?”
Having not entirely woken up, Vivi almost responded with ‘Isabella?’ But she caught herself at the last second.
“I do.”
“I think she needs help.”
The adrenaline was well deserved, then. Her attention sharpened on Saffra. “How so?”
Again, Saffra looked caught off guard by Vivi’s intensity. Wide-eyed, she responded, “That was Isabella Caldimore. Of the Caldimore family. Like on the train, if you remember?”
Vivi reminded herself that Saffra thought she didn’t know much about anything. This girl had been very unwilling to talk about her life prior to Prismarche, and so everything Vivi had learned about the Caldimores had been through other channels.
She tried not to sound impatient. “Yes, I remember. She needs help? With what? Where is she?”
“Not, like, immediately. Just—” Saffra bit her lip. “I went and talked with her.”
Vivi digested that admission. That her apprentice had snuck off in the middle of the night to go and find her prior friend. She couldn’t say she was surprised. She should have accounted for the possibility. Her thoughts had been too preoccupied with other matters—with the Duke, the strange dagger, and the dimensional fracture.
“I couldn’t get much out of her,” Saffra admitted. “But I think her dad is planning something bad?” Her voice tilted up at the end; she sounded unsure. But then her expression firmed. “He definitely is. I just don’t know what. She sounds really worried. It’s the Caldimores, so anything they’re planning has to be big. She seemed to think even a high-Titled couldn’t do much to help. But I told her…I told her you could? She’s waiting back at the Institute.” She clenched her fists to her side. “I know I don’t deserve to ask anything of you, considering how much you’ve already done, but…can you, please?”
Vivi was, in that moment, extremely tempted to summon her staff and give the girl a solid thwap on the head. But that wouldn’t be appropriate considering the circumstances, even her inadequate social skills told her. She took a second to moderate her reaction, watching Saffra squirm uncomfortably.
“If you, or anyone else, needs help,” Vivi said, “ask. That’s a command from master to apprentice. And don’t see it as a favor. Okay?”
Saffra seemed bewildered. “Okay?” she stammered.
“Where is she?”
“The Institute. The ninth floor garden annex. I can show you?”
“Please do.”
Vivi [Blinked] into her room, got dressed, and [Blinked] out. She held a hand out, and Saffra accepted. A warp took them to Osmian’s office. In her discussions with the archmage’s ghost, the man had shown her how the challenge door shifted throughout the Institute. Not to be helpful, but to brag about the obscenely complex mechanisms in the creation—which admittedly had impressed her. So she knew how the artifact worked in advance; she didn’t need to puzzle it out.
She adjusted the destination to the ninth floor. Osmian, sensing a presence in his office, extruded his spectral self to crankily demand what was going on, but she ignored him. She strode out into a nondescript hallway and, tone more demanding than she intended, prompted Saffra, “Where?”
The girl oriented, then stalked in the proper direction.
Leaving behind the magical door—she would apologize to the soul fragment sputtering about her rudeness later—Vivi followed her apprentice through the interior of the Institute and to an enclosed garden.
After turning several corners around lush foliage, Saffra slammed to a halt. Her ears flattened. Vivi hurried past, staff in hand, sensing something off about the reaction.
There, lying length-wise on a bench under a gazebo, was not Isabella Caldimore. Instead, a man who Vivi recognized.
‘Tobin.’
If that was even his name. She doubted it, for some reason.
She tried not to jump to conclusions, but even the most optimistic person in the world would make the obvious assumption.
“You two sure took your time.” The man huffed and rolled up, spinning on the bench to face them. “Cute spot you have here.” He smirked at Saffra in a way that almost had Vivi erasing him on the spot. He kicked his feet back and forth. Everything about his nonchalance, his expression and tone of voice, made Vivi’s skin crawl. “Very scenic.”
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“Where is she?” Saffra demanded, and Vivi didn’t think she’d ever heard her apprentice sound so distraught. “Who are you?”
‘Tobin’ laughed. He pushed himself into a standing position, cartwheeling his arms as he steadied.
“Where’s who? We’ve only just met. That’s no way to talk to a stranger.” He tutted, and his gaze turned to Vivi. “Kids these days, am I right?”
Vivi didn’t think her voice had ever been so cold. Even she was surprised by how clipped her words came out.
“Answer her.”
The man tilted his head. “And who do you think you are, to order me around?”
“I won’t ask so nicely the second time.”




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