“I will test a few more theories,” she began, “but please see if you can find the Drudger captain’s corpse and return with its hand. You may take Miss Flos with you.”
“For the love of the void, Mes,” Emery growled, leaning forward until the front legs of her chair clanged back to the ground. “Just call me Emery.”
Mesa ignored her. “The hand alone will do. Wrist, up.” Without looking away from the pyramid, she slid Cavalon’s knife across the table toward him.
He grimaced and picked it up, returning it to the sheath at his hip. “You got it.”
Cavalon kept his eyes on the ground as he and Emery passed two soldiers standing guard at the air locks. He didn’t know if they were among those that had been present during Rake’s chat with the Legion, but he still imagined their heated gazes boring into him as he passed. Even if they hadn’t known before, the news of his accidental admission had likely traveled fast.
He still didn’t know how he felt about that whole incident. Relieved—and maybe a little flattered—that Rake had bothered to stick up for him. However, it’d come with a healthy dose of humiliation. Pretty much the only thing that could make this situation worse would be if he became known as a teacher’s pet.
The already-rank mound of Drudger corpses was not difficult to track down. They sat a few meters past the P4 air lock, piled beside the wall. Unfortunately, it seemed the captain had been one of the first bodies to be removed, as he and Emery had to unstack most of the other corpses before they found the right one. Cavalon immediately recognized the one he’d killed from the wide gash along one of its flank plates where his knife had skinned off the fleshy covering. Then the second, gaping entry wound that’d made it through the ribs and reached its heart, deflating it and draining its life, beat by beat.
“Elyseia to Cavalon.” Emery snapped her fingers at him. He looked up from the corpse and stared at her. “One of these our guy?” She motioned to the bodies at the bottom of the pile.
He nodded numbly, then knelt and turned one of them over. “This is the one.”
He traced his fingers along his gold and bronze royal Imprints. They were tired—he was tired—but he might be able to muster enough energy …
“I could just carry the whole body back,” he suggested.
She gave him a flat look. “They already reek. We don’t want a whole dead Drudger back there stinking the place up. You heard the Savant. Wrist, down.”
He gulped and took his knife from its sheath, staring down at the steel-gray, taloned hand of the Drudger. He may have been briefly pre-med, but he hadn’t gotten to the dismemberment part of medical school. He had no idea how to remove an appendage.
Emery let out a disgusted sigh. “Bloody void, ya big wuss.”
She snatched the knife from his hand and without even the briefest hesitation, sliced the serrated blade deeply into its wrist. Cavalon had to look away for the rest, though hearing the wet, meaty sawing wasn’t really any less nauseating.
With a sickening crack of bone, he knew it was over. Emery held up the bloody hand and waved it at him, the taloned fingers flopping about lifelessly.
“Asset acquired.” She grinned.
His stomach turned, and he tried to return her smile, but he was sure it came out more of a grimace.
A glint caught his eye, and he looked over at the dismembered Drudger. Around its coral-and teal-tinged neck lay a thin silver chain, half-hidden under the collar of its uniform. Drudgers weren’t known for accessorizing.
Cavalon tried to ignore the bloody stump on the end of the captain’s arm and reached to pull the necklace over its wide head. The blackened silver chain held a thin, tarnished gold medallion of three interwoven triangles.
He exchanged a curious look with Emery, who shrugged. He pocketed the necklace and turned to head back down the hall, but three unexpected guests stood in their way.