The attitude, though, hadn’t changed at all.

“I see you’ve missed me.”

Dario gave him an incredulous look. “Were you gone? My goodness. The time seemed to fly by, not seeing you.”

Jess took a seat in the chair across from the desk. “Still charming,” he said. “Just for that, you don’t get any pastries.” It seemed odd to switch from this comfortably contemptuous banter to news about Thomas, so he offered, “I didn’t know you knew sign language.”

“My baby sister was born deaf,” Dario said, which surprised Jess to the bone. First, that Dario had a baby sister, and second, that he’d be considerate enough to go out of his way to communicate with her. “That was one of the reasons I was assigned to Prakesh, besides being so handsome and charming.”

“So, this is working well for you?”

“As well as I could have dreamed. The Scholar’s a wonder. I learn so much every day.” Dario’s expression turned serious, and he leaned forward in his chair to stare at Jess. “Why do I have the feeling you’ve come here to ruin all that?”

He kept the story short, if not sweet. Dario’s face took on a blank masklike expression while he spoke, and his eyes went narrow and very dark. No smiles. No sarcasm.

“So,” Dario said, once he’d told him everything he knew, “we go and get Thomas. When?”

In that moment, Jess liked him very much.

“No idea yet. Stay in touch with Khalila—I’ll send word through her. Help her with research.”

“If you need to question anyone, let me know. I’ll come along.”

“You mean, you’ll hold them while I beat them?”

“No,” Dario said. “You’ll hold them while I cut the truth out of them. This is for Thomas.”

“I didn’t think you—”

“Liked him?” Dario waved that away impatiently. “He’s one of us.”

Simply said and plainly heartfelt. Jess nodded. “Dario. Be careful. Keep your wits sharp.”

“And my dagger sharper? Yes, scrubber, I do have a brain. I know what we face here.” Dario pulled a piece of paper closer and picked up a pen. His fingers were shaking. He put the pen down again and flexed them, as if they troubled him. “Anything else?”

“Enjoy the pastries.”

He was opening the door and preparing to leave when Dario said quietly, “Jess.” It was rare that Dario called him by his first name. “Do you think they’re hurting him?”

“Yes,” Jess said. “And I think they’ll keep hurting him until we get him back. So let’s get him back.”

He closed the door, said a polite farewell to Scholar Prakesh—that sign, at least, he knew—and headed back down the stairs. He was halfway down when his Codex chimed for attention, and he paused in the middle of the stairs to open it and check, as others moved around him with impatient looks.

It was from Glain, written in her sharp, impatient printing. Get your bum back to the barracks before someone misses you. NOW. That last was underlined with vicious black pen strokes. He could almost feel the anger and worry smoking off the page.