The Ambassador's Mission

CHAPTER 27

THE TRAP IS SPRUNG



As Cery had followed Skellin, Sonea and Regin out of the room he’d made a mental note to apologise to Sonea, once they were alone, for the long night she had endured. Perhaps it was only because he’d known her for so long that he’d detected how uncomfortable she’d been with Skellin’s questions about the Ichani Invasion.

Though I’d have thought anyone clever enough to become a Thief as powerful as he was, in such a short time, would realise that she’d hardly want to talk about the battle that led to the death of the man she loved.

Cery had felt an overwhelming gratitude to Regin for taking over at that point and saving Sonea from telling the story, or refusing to. The irony of that wasn’t lost on him. Regin was not a person he’d have ever expected to thank for being considerate.

At the end of the long corridor they climbed stairs to the upper floor of the old building. Skellin led them to a closed door. He paused as he took hold of the handle and looked at Sonea and Regin.

“Ready?”

The two magicians nodded.

Skellin opened the door and stepped through, then moved aside quickly as if eager not to be caught between the magicians and their quarry. Cery followed Sonea and Regin into a room filled with crates, lit with lamps set around the room. Four people had turned to see who had entered. Three were men and one was a woman wearing a cloak, the hood up and shadowing all but the dark skin of her chin and jaw. Two of the men looked unconcerned and unsurprised at the interruption. The third man looked from Skellin to the magicians, his gaze dropping to their robes. He looked shocked and frightened.

But the woman’s reaction was the most dramatic. She backed away, then raised her arms as if to ward off a blow. The air vibrated faintly. Sonea and Regin exchanged a knowing look. That was some sort of magical attack, Cery guessed. The magicians turned their attention back to the woman. She yelped in surprise and tucked her arms in against her sides.

Or is that an involuntary movement? Cery thought. She looks as if something invisible is wrapped around her.

The magicians paused as if waiting for something, but nothing happened. Sonea glanced at Regin again, then walked over to the woman.

“What is your name?” she asked.

“F-Forlie,” the woman answered, her voice trembling.

“Did you know, Forlie, that all magicians in the Allied Lands must be members of the Magicians’ Guild?”

The woman swallowed audibly and nodded.

“Why aren’t you a member?” Sonea asked. There was no accusation in her voice, just curiosity.

The woman blinked, then her head turned toward Skellin. “I … I didn’t want to.”

Sonea smiled, and while it was a reassuring smile there was a sadness to it. “We have to take you to the Guild now. They won’t harm you, but you have broken a law. They’ll have to decide what to do with you. If you cooperate it will be better for you in the long run. Will you come with us quietly?”

Forlie nodded. Sonea reached out a hand to her. Whatever force Sonea or Regin had kept her arms fixed against her body with was removed and the woman’s shoulders relaxed. Tentatively, she reached out to take Sonea’s hand. The two of them walked over to Regin. Everyone in the room breathed a sigh of relief. Skellin looked pleased, Cery noted. Sonea and Regin looked grim but also relieved. Forlie …

Cery frowned, then walked over to the woman and tugged off her hood. He felt a shock as he saw her face.

“This isn’t her. This isn’t the rogue.”

There was a pause, then Skellin coughed. “Of course it is. She used magic, didn’t she?” He looked at Sonea and Regin.

“She did,” Regin agreed.

“Then there must be two rogues,” Cery said. “It might’ve been dark when I saw her, but Forlie doesn’t look anything like the woman I saw doing magic.”

“She has dark skin and she is the right age. You only saw her from above. How can you be so sure?”

“The shape of her face is all wrong.” The woman’s skin was lighter, too. She had Lonmar bloodlines, he guessed, and their typical physique. But the woman he’d seen in the pawnshop had an entirely different build. “She’s too tall.” And too meek to my family’s killer.

“You didn’t tell me this before,” Skellin pointed out.

Cery looked at him. “I guess I didn’t think it was worth going into detail, if there was only one woman using magic in the city.”

“It would have been useful to know.” For a moment a scowl crossed Skellin’s face, then he sighed and shrugged. “Well, I guess it’ll still be useful. You can identify the other one for us.”

Looking at Sonea, Cery saw she was shaking her head in dismay. He remembered how concerned she was that she might be discovered wandering about the city without permission. Once she brought this rogue to the Guild, they would know she’d defied their restrictions.

“Is this going to be a problem for you?” he asked.

“We’ll make sure it isn’t,” Regin replied firmly. “But it may be a problem for you. Once word gets out that we have caught this w—” He glanced at the woman. “Forlie,” he corrected. “The other rogue will be more cautious. She will not be so easy to find.”

“Not that she was in the first place,” Skellin added.

Regin looked at the Thief. “Will you assist us again?”

“Of course,” Skellin smiled.

As the magician’s gaze shifted to him, Cery bowed. “As always.”

“Then we’ll be waiting for your next message,” Sonea said. “In the meantime, we need to get back to the Guild as quickly as possible.” Her eyes flitted away. Following her gaze, Cery saw that the light of dawn was filtering through windows all around the room.

“Yes. Go,” Skellin said. He waved a hand dismissively at the three men still standing over by the crates, watching with bemused expressions. “Continue your work,” he said to them. “Now, let me escort you out,” he said to the magicians. “Come this way.”

Forlie said nothing as she walked with the magicians and Thieves. They backtracked down the stairs, along the wide corridor, and into the room they’d spent most of the night in. The magicians retrieved their coats and stepped into the alley outside. Skellin wished them all well and said he would be in contact as soon as he had something to tell them. At the end of the alley, Cery stopped.

“Good luck and all that,” he said to Sonea. “I’ll be in touch.”

She smiled. “Thanks for your help, Cery.”

He shrugged, then turned away and strode to where Gol was waiting, concealed in the shadows of a doorway opposite the old butchery building.

“Who was that?” the big man asked, stepping out to meet Cery.

“Black Magician Sonea and Lord Regin.”

“Not them.” Gol rolled his eyes. “The woman.”

“The rogue.”

“No she isn’t.”

“Not our rogue. Another one.”

“You’re joking with me?”

Cery shook his head. “Wish I was. Seems we’re still on the hunt for our rogue. I’ll explain later. Let’s get home. It’s been a long night.”

“Sure has,” Gol muttered. He looked back. Following his gaze, Cery saw that Regin and Sonea were still standing by their cart.

“That’s odd. Sonea was in a hurry to get back,” Cery said.

“This whole thing has been odd from the start,” Gol complained.

He’s right, Cery thought. And nothing more odd than Forlie herself. The way she looked at Skellin when Sonea asked her a question … as if looking to him for instruction.

There was no doubt about it. Something wasn’t right. But they had caught a rogue magician. Maybe not the rogue magician he suspected had something to do with the death of his family, but at least there was one less rogue available for hire by unscrupulous characters like himself. Life in the city’s underworld was dangerous enough without magicians hiring themselves out.

Though it would be handy having one to call on now and then. It might make finding my family’s killer a lot easier.

One thing he was sure of, though. The other rogue would not be so easy to catch.


Lorkin sat down on a dried-out old log and waited. Somewhere ahead, several Sachakan magicians and their slaves, a Duna tribesman, and one Kyralian Ambassador were making their way toward him. Somewhere behind him, Tyvara and Chari waited. And all around him, Traitors were taking positions ready to spring the trap they’d planned.

He was alone.

Despite Speaker Savara’s air of confidence, he knew what they were planning was dangerous. She wouldn’t tell him how they planned to separate Dannyl from his companions. She’d said nothing when he’d asked if they were planning to kill anyone. He assumed they weren’t, because they seemed anxious not to give the Sachakan king reason to enter their territory, and the obligation to retaliate or seek revenge for Ashaki deaths would certainly provide that.

Savara had told him he would not have much time. Once the Ashaki realised Dannyl had been deliberately separated from them they would be determined to find him. And if Lorkin was still with Dannyl, he’d be captured.

Lorkin sighed and looked around at the bare, rocky landscape. He hadn’t been alone in weeks. It would have been a nice change, if it weren’t for the circumstances. But he doubted he was unobserved.

If it weren’t for that, I’d try contacting Mother.

The blood ring was now a worrying burden. It wouldn’t surprise him if the Traitors searched him before or just after he arrived in Sanctuary. Though they did not treat him as if he posed much of a threat, he wouldn’t expect them to trust him completely.

And when they do, they’ll find Mother’s ring. It’s too obvious that something has been stuffed into the spine of my notebook. They’ll investigate. They’ll find it and take it off me in case I let her know where I am. Do I trust them to keep it safe?

He wasn’t prepared to take the risk. So far he’d come up with only two solutions: hide it somewhere, or give it to Dannyl. He’d decided on the latter.

Wait a moment … that means I can use it now. It won’t matter if anyone sees me and works out what I’m doing. He’ll have it, and he’ll take it away with him.

He was surprised at the relief that flooded through him, but not at the sudden reluctance that came afterwards. While he wanted to explain what he was doing to his mother, and reassure her he was fine, she was going to take some persuading.

Still, he had to try. And he didn’t have much time.

Reaching inside his clothes, he took the notebook out. A bit of pushing and digging later, he had the ring. He took a deep breath, then slipped it on a finger.

—Mother?

—Lorkin!

Relief and worry filtered through to him like muffled music.

—Are you all right? she asked.

—Yes. I don’t have much time to explain.

—Well … get to it then.

—Someone tried to kill me, but I was saved by a woman who is a member of a people called the Traitors. We had to leave Arvice because it was likely someone would try to kill me again. Now we’re heading toward the secret city she comes from. I’m going with her, but there’s a good chance they won’t let me leave the city in case I tell people where it is.

—Do you have to go?

—Yes. She wasn’t supposed to kill the person who tried to kill me. If I don’t speak in her defence they might execute her for murder.

—She saved you and now you want to save her. She paused. That’s fair, but is it worth being imprisoned?

—I think I can change their minds. But it might take a while. In the meantime … the Guild doesn’t know anything about them. I want to learn as much as I can. They have magic we’ve never seen before.

—The magic you went to Sachaka for in the first place.

—Maybe. I won’t know until I get there.

She was silent for a long moment.

—I can’t stop you … You had better be right about talking them into letting you go. Otherwise I’ll come fetch you myself.

—Give me a few years first. And lots of warning.

—Years!

—Of course. You can’t change a whole society overnight. But I’ll try to make it sooner.

—Well … you had better remember to put on the ring now and then.

—Ah, that’s going to be a problem. I suspect they’ll search me. If they find a blood ring, they’ll take it off me. They’re very keen to keep their city’s location a secret, and considering what the rest of Sachaka is like I don’t blame them. I’m going to give it to Dannyl.

—You haven’t spoken to Dannyl yet?

—No. But I will soon. I have to stop him following me, or the Traitors will have to kill him. I don’t suppose you could get Osen to tell him to stop?

—Not right now. I’m in the city.

A movement caught Lorkin’s eye.

—I have to go.

—Good luck Lorkin. Be careful. I love you.

—I love you, too.

He slipped the ring off and stood up. The movement he’d seen was a Traitor slowly making her way along the top of a ravine. Her attention seemed fixed on something below. Lorkin’s heart skipped a beat.

Dannyl had better be holding a strong shield.

Ahead, Unh was casting about, moving in different directions then returning to the same spot. He shook his head, turned and beckoned to Dannyl. For some reason, the tribesman was more inclined to speak to Dannyl now, whenever there was something to report.

“Tracks stop here,” the man said, pointing to the ground. He looked up at the rock wall that loomed over them on one side. “We try there?”

Dannyl looked up and judged the distance. The top of the wall wasn’t too far away. Drawing magic, he created a disc of force beneath their feet. He took hold of the man’s upper arms, and the man did the same with his. They had done this many times already that day, either rising up to the top of a ridge or wall, or dropping down to a ledge or into a valley.

This close, the tribesman smelled of sweat and spices, a combination that was not entirely pleasing, but not too unpleasant, either. Concentrating, Dannyl lifted the disc upward, bearing them with it.

The rock wall rushed past, then fell away as they passed the top of it. There was a narrow ridge along the top. Dannyl moved them to the middle of this before setting them down. Beyond, the high peaks of the mountains cut the sky to a jagged edge.

“If magicians can do this, why don’t they fly over the mountains and find Traitor city?” Unh asked.

Dannyl looked at the man in surprise. The man hadn’t questioned his ability until now. “Levitation takes concentration,” he replied. “The further from the ground you are, the more concentration it takes. I’m not sure why. But the higher you go, the easier it is to become disorientated, and the further you have to fall.”

The man pursed his lips, then nodded. “I see.”

He turned away and began searching the ground. Moments later he gave a huff of satisfaction. He leaned over the precipice, looking down at the Sachakans, who were staring up in puzzlement.

“Trail goes here,” he called. Then he set off along the ridge.

Dannyl waited and watched as the Sachakans took it in turns to levitate themselves and their slaves up the rock face.

“We’re getting further in,” one of the Ashaki said, looking around. “Has anyone gone this far before?”

“Who knows?” another answered. “We’ve been trying to find them for centuries. I’m sure someone must have.”

“I doubt we’ve got that close to them,” a third pointed out. “They’d have tried to stop us by now.”

Achati chuckled and brushed dust off his clothing. “They won’t risk that our Kyralian friend might get hurt. Attacking us wouldn’t bother them, but they don’t dare kill a Guild magician in case it motivates our neighbours into helping us rid Sachaka of our Traitor problem.”

“We’d better stick close to the Ambassador, then,” the first Ashaki said. Then he lowered his voice. “Though not so close that we have to endure the stink of our tracker.”

The others chuckled. Dannyl looked beyond them to see that Unh was standing a hundred strides or so away, beckoning to him. It was obvious the tribesman preferred his assistance to the Sachakans’. I can’t blame him. Though I have to admit, the man doesn’t smell too good. Still, I bet I don’t either, after walking through the mountains for days without a bath or a change of clothes.

He caught up with Unh and they continued on. Soon they had to levitate down the other side of the ridge, then up two more walls. Every time, Unh found the trail again. Time passed and soon the sun was dropping ever closer to the horizon. They entered a narrow ravine. Unh hesitated at the entrance, then indicated Dannyl should walk beside him.

“You keep magic shield on,” he said. “Keep it strong.”

Dannyl followed the man’s advice. He felt the skin down his back crawl as he and the tribesman slowly walked down the middle of the ravine. He glanced back to see the Sachakans following, their expressions grim. They were casting suspicious glances up at the ravine walls.

After several hundred paces the walls began to retreat and the ravine floor widened. Ahead, it became a small valley. Unh let out a breath and muttered something.

Then a crack and a boom shook the air. The sound came from behind them. Dannyl and Unh spun about, then threw up their hands as stones pattered against the barrier that protected them. They backed away. A fog of dust had filled the ravine.

Slowly it settled to reveal a huge pile of rocks.

Where are the Sachakans? Are they buried? Dannyl took a step forward, but a hand caught his arm. He turned to Unh, but the man wasn’t looking at him. He was looking toward the valley. Following his gaze, Dannyl saw a lone figure walking toward them. His heart skipped a beat.

Lorkin!

“They’ll be fine,” the young magician said. “They had strong barriers. It won’t take long for them to haul themselves out, then to work out how they’re going to get through to you, so I can’t stay long.” He smiled and stopped a few paces from Dannyl. “We need to talk.”

“We certainly do,” Dannyl agreed.

Lorkin looked healthy. He was even a little tanned. He was wearing slave’s clothes, yet he looked strangely comfortable in them. Perhaps only because he’d been wearing them for several days now.

“Let’s sit down,” Lorkin said. He moved to a low boulder and sat. Dannyl found another rock to sit upon. Unh remained standing. The tribesman watched Lorkin with a cautious, knowing expression.

Abruptly all sounds in the ravine were silenced. Dannyl guessed that Lorkin had created a barrier to prevent their conversation being overheard. Overheard by Unh, or others as well?

“You must have many questions,” Lorkin said. “I’ll do my best to answer them.”

Dannyl nodded. Where to start? Perhaps where it had all started to go wrong.

“Who killed the slave in your room?”

Lorkin smiled wryly. “The woman I’ve been travelling with. She saved my life.”

“Tyvara?”

“Yes. The one you found dead in my room tried to kill me. Tyvara said that others would try to finish the job, and offered to take me somewhere safe.”

“Who wants you killed, and why?”

Lorkin grimaced. “That’s kind of complicated. I can’t tell you who, but I can tell you why. It’s because of my father. But not because he killed any Ichani. Because of something else he did. Or rather, something he didn’t do. Do you remember how someone helped him escape Sachaka by teaching him black magic?”

Dannyl, nodded.

“Well, that person was a Traitor. He agreed to give them something in return, and he never did. In fact, it was something he was not authorised to give, but I guess he was desperate to go home and would have agreed to anything.” Lorkin shrugged. “I need to sort that out with the Traitors. And … there are other things. I have to tell them what happened with Riva – the slave Tyvara killed – or Tyvara will be charged for murder and executed. So I need you to stop following me.”

“How did I know you were going to say that?” Dannyl said, sighing.

“They’ll kill you if you don’t.” Lorkin’s expression was more serious than Dannyl had ever seen before. “They don’t want to. I don’t think they want to kill the Sachakans either … well, they’d love to kill them, I suspect, just not here and now. They know that the more people they have to kill to keep their location secret, the more people will try to find them.”

Dannyl nodded. “So you want me and Unh to pretend we lost the trail.”

“Yes. Or whatever you need to say to end the search.”

Somehow I don’t think it’ll take much to convince the Sachakans, after this, he thought, looking at the rocks blocking the ravine. What about Unh? I guess he’ll follow orders. But maybe the truth will suffice. If I decide we don’t need to find Lorkin, will the Ashaki keep searching?

Then Dannyl remembered the gemstones. He looked at Lorkin closely.

“This isn’t just because of your father and this woman, is it?”

The young magician blinked, then smiled.

“No. I want to know more about the Traitors. They don’t have slaves, and the way their society is structured is completely different to the rest of Sachaka. I think they may have forms of magic we’ve never heard of – or haven’t seen in thousands of years. I think they might be good people to establish friendly ties with. I think … I think that we need to get on their good side, because one day we might be dealing with them instead of the people ruling Arvice now.”

Dannyl cursed. “If it comes to a war, don’t take sides,” he warned. “If they lose, you may not be immune to the consequences.”

“I wouldn’t expect to be.” Lorkin shrugged. “I do realise the problems that would cause for the Guild. For now it would be better if everyone acted as if I’d left the Guild. I’m not sure how long I will have to stay here.” He frowned. “There’s a chance they won’t let me leave in case I tell others how to find them. I’ve explained all this to Mother, by the way.”

“Oh. Good.” Dannyl heaved a sigh of relief. “Do you realise how much I dreaded telling her about your disappearance?”

“Yes.” Lorkin chuckled. “Sorry about that.” The amusement left his face and he grimaced. He looked down and uncurled the fingers of one hand. On his palm lay a blood ring. He held it out to Dannyl with obvious reluctance. “Take it. I don’t dare carry it any longer. If they found it on me it would hardly encourage them to trust me and I don’t want to risk it falling into other hands.”

Dannyl took the ring. “It’s Sonea’s?”

“Yes.” A movement caught their attention. Dust rose from the pile of rocks behind them. Lorkin’s gaze flickered to them, and he stood up. “I have to go.”

At the movement, Unh turned to look at them. Once more Dannyl remembered the cave full of gemstones.

“My friend here – he’s from the Duna tribes, by the way – told me something interesting the other day. He said that his people have knowledge of how to make gemstones like those in the Cavern of Ultimate Punishment.”

Lorkin’s eyes brightened with interest.

“He also said,” Dannyl continued. “That the Traitors stole that knowledge from his people. You might want to keep that in mind. Your new friends may not be without a few nasty traits.”

The young magician smiled. “Who is? But I will keep that in mind. It is interesting information. Very interesting.” His eyes narrowed for a moment, then he looked at Dannyl and grasped his upper arm. “Goodbye, Ambassador. I hope your new assistant is more useful than I’ve proven to be.”

Dannyl returned the gesture. Then he jumped as sound returned. Lorkin moved away, pausing to say something to the tribesman as he passed. Dannyl rose and moved to Unh’s side and they watched the lone magician stride away.

“What did he say to you?” Dannyl asked when Lorkin finally moved out of sight.

“He said, ‘You’re the only one in danger’,” Unh replied. “He means the Traitors fear I may lead you to their city.”

“Not without the help of a magician, I suspect.”

The tribesman looked at him and smiled. “No.”

“So we’d better get you out of here sooner rather than later. How about we levitate over that pile of rocks and see if any of our Sachakan companions have dug themselves out yet?”

“Is a good idea,” the tribesman agreed.


When she had finally left Skellin, Sonea had simultaneously wanted to scream in frustration and cheer in relief.

By now, not only could Dannyl have found Lorkin, she’d thought, but there could have been a battle, funerals for the dead arranged, and a victory celebration held. Osen must have progressed from wondering where I am to discovering I haven’t been at the hospice all night to ordering Kallen to start strengthening himself ready to hunt me down.

And all for nothing. Well, not nothing. They had found one rogue. Just not the one they were looking for.

But at least she was away from Skellin, she’d reasoned, and headed back to the Guild at last. Then something happened that negated all her desire to rush back for news. She’d heard Lorkin’s voice in her mind. And felt hints at what he’d been feeling.

It had been very enlightening.

She’d forgotten how effective a blood ring could be at conveying the mind of the wearer. In a short time she had not only learned that Lorkin was alive, but that he did not fear for his life and was full of hope. Though he was not entirely certain how the people he was with would treat him, in general he respected them and believed they were benevolent. He was smitten with the woman who had rescued him, but the obligation he felt toward her was not entirely based on lust or fondness.

Ah, Lorkin. Why does there always have to be a woman involved?

Lorkin was as safe as she could hope, considering the situation. She’d rather he was home, and she did not like the possibility these Traitors would not let him leave their city, but he had decided to risk that and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

At least he’s a long way from the people who tried to kill him.

She’d got into the cart feeling much better. But before they had travelled far, Forlie had begun to groan and hold her head and stomach. A quick check told Sonea the woman was particularly susceptible to carriage sickness, so they had been forced to tell the driver to slow down.

She wondered if Lorkin had met Dannyl yet. And if Osen was now looking for her, to tell her the good news.

The cart slowed even further. Outside, someone was shouting, and the driver began shouting back. Sonea exchanged a frown with Regin as the vehicle stopped. Forlie began to whimper with fear.

They all jumped as someone began hammering on the side of the cart.

“Black Magician Sonea,” someone called. A young woman, Sonea guessed. “You have to come out. You’ve got the wrong woman.”

Sonea moved to the rear flap of the cart’s cover. She pulled it aside. The street beyond was empty but for a few people in the distance. A knocking came from the side of the cart again.

“I work for Cery,” the woman said. “I—”

“We know she’s the wrong rogue,” Sonea called out. “Cery told us.”

A slim young woman appeared, hurrying around the cart to scowl at Sonea.

“Then … you didn’t … you don’t know …” The girl stopped and took a deep breath. “You’re letting the other rogue go, then?”

Sonea stared at her. “Not if I can help it.”

“Well … I know where the real rogue is. I was watching you and Cery from the roof of one of the other buildings and saw her turn up to do the same. I think she’s still there.”

Regin uttered an oath. Sonea turned to look at him.

“Go,” he said. “I’ll get Forlie to the hospice and come back.”

“But …” But what if the woman has already left? My absence from the hospice might not have been noticed. If it hasn’t, I’ll be able to keep hunting for her. But if I get out of the cart and I’m seen …

“You should go,” she told Regin. “If I go and I’m recognised, the Guild will stop me hunting for h—”

“You must be the one to catch her.” Regin stared at her, his gaze intense and his expression unexpectedly angry. “People need to see you do it. They need to remember that you’re more than a Healer. That restricting you to that is a waste.” He pointed out of the cart. “Go! Before she gets away!”

Sonea stared at him for a moment, then pulled the flap wide and jumped out onto the road. Her coat flared open and the young woman’s eyes widened as she saw the black robes beneath. Sonea took the hint and buttoned the coat up. “What’s your name?”

“Anyi.” The girl straightened. “Follow me.” The girl broke into a jog, heading back toward the old butchery.

“Have you told Cery?” Sonea asked.

The girl shook her head. “I couldn’t find him.”

They moved into a maze of alleys, jogging from shadow to shadow. Sonea realised her heart was beating fast with a strange mix of long-forgotten excitement and something more primal. I’m like a hunter about to catch its prey, she thought. Then she remembered how it had felt to be hounded and frightened, sought by powerful magicians, and she sobered. Still, this woman is no untrained child. Why was she watching us? Did she know about Skellin’s trap?

She must have known about it. How had she found out? Had she sent Forlie in her place? Close to the old butchery, Anyi entered an alleyway. At the far end Sonea could see a busy main road.

“She was on the roof of this building,” she said. “There’s a spot out of sight around here where you can climb up—”

The girl had been about to dive into a small, dead end side alley, but suddenly checked her stride then backed away from the entrance.

“That’s her!” she hissed, pointing.

Her finger pointed upward. Sonea looked up, caught a movement and felt a chill run down her spine. She drew magic and threw up a shield around them. A woman was slowly levitating down into the side alley. She disappeared into the shadows.

“Can you trap her in there?” Anyi asked.

The sound of footsteps suddenly broke out, coming rapidly closer.

“Only one way to find out,” Sonea replied. She looked at Anyi. “Go back. When Regin returns, bring him here. I might need assistance.”

Anyi nodded and raced away. Sonea adjusted her shield to allow the girl out. When she turned back, the woman was about to emerge from the side alley.

Sonea stepped forward and threw up a barrier to block the woman’s way.

Surprise, shock and dismay crossed the woman’s dark face. Then her strange, angular eyes narrowed. A force hammered against the barrier. It was no test strike, but a full blast that was stronger than Sonea expected, and at the same time another strike flashed toward her. The barrier wavered and fell before she had a chance to strengthen it.

The woman dashed out of the dead end alley and ran toward the main road. Sonea ran after her, throwing out another, stronger barrier to envelop her, but the woman smashed this down with a violent blast. A moment later, the rogue was among the people moving up and down the road beyond.

Sonea reached the alley entrance. She saw the woman pause and turn to look at her, well within the flow of traffic. Seeing the distinctive red-brown skin, she knew why Cery had been so sure that Forlie was not the woman he’d seen. As Skellin’s face flashed through Sonea’s memory, she felt a chill run down her spine. Same reddish dark skin. Same strange eyes. This woman is of the same race!

A smile stretched the woman’s lips. A dangerous, triumphant smile.

She thinks I won’t dare use magic with all these people around, and she is right. I also don’t want to risk harming her. Though it would certainly make matters simpler for the Guild if the woman got herself killed.

To deserve that fate, she’d have to do much worse than be a rogue magician working for roet-sellers as a blackmailer. Like killing Cery’s family.

We need her alive to find out if she’s guilty or knows who is. We also need her alive so we can find out where she came from, and if there are more magicians like her. And find out why she was watching us catch Forlie.

And it would be much harder for Sonea to gain forgiveness for not obeying rules if her disobedience had led to her killing someone.

Sonea drew magic. Lots of magic. She had no idea how long she could hold the woman for. Despite knowing how to take power from magicians and people and even animals, and store it away until needed, Sonea had not done so for over twenty years. She was forbidden to unless ordered to do so by the Higher Magicians.

She was no more powerful than she had been before she had learned black magic. No more powerful than she had been as a novice.

But she had been an exceptionally powerful novice.

With the magic she had gathered, Sonea sent power over the heads of the people passing between her and the rogue, and surrounded the woman in a globe of force. At once the woman began striking in all directions, but though her attacks were powerful, Sonea had expected them to be so, and kept the containment barrier strong. The flash and vibration of magic sent people scattering away from the woman. Sonea shrugged out of the old coat and tossed it aside. When people recovered enough to stop and watch, she did not want them wondering why she had been wearing it.

The black cloth of her robes stirred in a breeze as she stepped out of the alley entrance and walked toward the rogue. She heard exclamations, from either side, where crowds of onlookers were no doubt gathering, but kept her attention on the woman. The rogue snarled and increased her attack on the barrier. Sonea strengthened it further, trying not to worry at how rapidly she was using her reserves of magic.

How long can I keep this up? How long can she keep it up?

A sound broke out from either side. Sonea did not realise what it was at first, then as she did her concentration nearly faltered from amazement.

The crowd was cheering.

Through the sound came a different sort of shout. In the corner of her eye she saw someone approaching. Someone wearing purple.

“Need some help?” a young male voice asked.

An Alchemist. Not one she knew, however.

“Yes,” she said. “Come through.”

Letting him into her barrier, she held out a hand to him.

“Send me your magic.”

“The old-fashioned way?” he asked, surprise in his voice.

She laughed. “Of course. I think we can manage one rogue between us.”

He took her hand, and she felt magic flow into her. She channelled it to the containment barrier. The Alchemist called out, and she realised another magician was approaching. This time a Healer. As the woman took Sonea’s other hand, Sonea almost expected the rogue to give up. But the foreign woman fought on.

Yet her strikes were growing weaker and weaker. Sonea felt an unexpected pity as the woman threw all her strength at the barrier until her attack finally faltered. The rogue’s shoulders drooped. She looked haggard and resigned.

Letting go of her fellow magicians’ hands, Sonea glanced at them.

“Thank you.”

The Alchemist shrugged, and the Healer murmured something like “of course.” Sonea turned her attention back to the rogue. She closed the distance between them, taking slow measured strides. The Alchemist and Healer paced beside her, staying within her shield. The rogue regarded Sonea sullenly as she stopped before her.

“What is your name?” Sonea asked.

The woman did not answer.

“Do you know the law regarding magicians in the Allied Lands? The law that states that all magicians must be a member of the Magicians’ Guild?”

“I know it,” the woman replied.

“Yet here you are, a magician who is not a member of the Guild. Why is that?”

The woman laughed. “I don’t need your Guild. I learned magic long before I came to this land. Why should I bow to you?”

Sonea smiled. “Why indeed?”

The woman glowered.

“So,” Sonea continued. “How long have you lived within the Allied Lands?”

“Too long.” The woman spat on the ground.

“If you don’t like it, why do you stay?”

The woman stared balefully at Sonea.

“What is the name of your homeland?”

The rogue’s lips pressed together stubbornly.

“Well, then.” Sonea brought the barrier around the woman in closer. “Whether you like it or not, the Magicians’ Guild is bound by law to deal with you. We’re taking you to the Guild now.”

Anger contorted the woman’s face and a new blast of power pounded the barrier surrounding her, but it was a weak attack. Sonea considered waiting until the woman tired, then decided against it. She shrank the barrier around the woman, then used it to nudge her to the centre of the road. She began pushing the rogue firmly but gently forward. The Healer and Alchemist fell into step beside her.

And in this way, through streets lined with curious onlookers, they escorted the second rogue found that day to the Guild.