A MEETING

The horses that carried people up the road to the escarpment were short, sturdy creatures. Dannyl was sure his feet would have been scraping the ground if his mount had not had such a broad girth. The beasts didn’t often carry people, since visitors to Duna – or to the dryer areas – were rare. They were more used to carrying food and other supplies.

Carriages were too wide for the narrow road, which twisted and turned on itself at angles impossible for a vehicle to manage. The high side of the slope was so close that Dannyl had occasionally scraped his boots on the rock wall. His other boot hovered over a near-vertical cliff plunging down either to a stretch of the road below, or to the distant valley floor.

Though he had no fear of heights, he’d found that the constant threat of such a precipice put him on edge. Achati appeared to grit his teeth and resolutely set his gaze on the road ahead. Tayend, despite not having the reassurance of magic to call upon should he or his horse slip, didn’t appear to be bothered at all.

The benefit of the exposed, precarious journey was the view.

The road had begun about mid-way along the valley, the wider end of which spread out behind them, divided into fields dotted at the edges with clusters of houses. A pale band of grey sand separated the green land from the blue ocean. Ahead, the valley narrowed, the cliffs undulating as they drew closer to each other. A ribbon of water threaded through it all, glistening whenever the sun reflected off its surface.

Looking ahead, Dannyl saw that there were several people standing at the next turn. The only places on the path wide enough for travellers to pass each other were bends where it switched back on itself. The people waiting were clearly Duna: slim, grey-skinned, and dressed in only a cloth wrapped about their waist and groin. They were carrying large sacks across their shoulders.

The guide called out a greeting as he neared. The tribesmen – there were no women among them – did not reply or move. Perhaps they made some sign of greeting, because the guide was smiling as he turned and started up the next section of road. Achati was next to turn, and his expression did not change from the same look of grim determination he’d worn since they’d started the climb. Dannyl smiled at the men as he passed. They stared at him in return, their faces impassive but showing neither hostility nor friendliness. He wondered if they felt as much curiosity about him as he did about them. Had any Kyralians visited their lands before? Had any Guild magicians?

I might be the first.

He looked back to see Tayend smiling as his mount turned in behind Dannyl. The Elyne saw Dannyl watching and grinned. “Exciting, isn’t it?”

Dannyl could not help smiling in reply. As he turned away he felt an unexpected wave of affection for his former lover. He embraces life as if it’s all a big adventure. I do miss that about him.

“And we’re nearly there,” Tayend added.

Looking up, Dannyl saw that the next stretch of road was short. He felt his heart skip a beat as he saw the guide turn to the right and disappear. Achati followed, and then it was Dannyl’s turn.

After a full day of riding, the change of surroundings was so abrupt it left Dannyl feeling disorientated. Suddenly the horizon had returned. The land was so flat there was nothing between Dannyl and the line where the grey earth met the sky.

Nothing except a whole lot of tents, he corrected himself, as his horse turned to follow Achati’s. Even then, the gathering of temporary homes blended with the colour of the land. It looked like a tangle of cloth and poles.

“It’s hot up here,” Tayend said, riding up beside Dannyl. “If this is what winter is like, I’m glad we didn’t come in summer.”

“We must be about as far north as Lonmar,” Dannyl replied. “The difference between seasons there isn’t as great as it is in the south. Duna may be the same.”

He didn’t add that it was the end of the day, and the heat given off by the sun now hanging low in the sky would not be as strong as at midday. As in Lonmar, the air was dry, but here it had a different taste.

Ash, he thought. It blew into his face, finer than the sand that got into everything in Lonmar. I wonder if they have the same fierce dust storms.

The edge of the tents was a few hundred paces from the precipice. As the riders approached, the Duna stopped to stare at them. The guide called out the same greeting, then pulled his horse to a stop a dozen paces from the audience.

“These people have come to speak to the tribes,” he said, his voice lower and respectful. “Who has the Voice?”

Two of the men pointed toward a gap in the tents. The guide thanked them, then directed his mount into the opening, Achati, Dannyl and Tayend following. Every ten or so tents the guide repeated the question, and each time set off in the direction the Duna pointed in.

Soon they were surrounded by tents. Dannyl could not make out where the camp stopped. Some were tattered and well patched. Others looked newer. All were coated in grey dust. Of a similar size, they appeared to be occupied by extended families, from small children to wrinkled old men and women. Everyone in between was occupied in some task – cooking, sewing, weaving, carving, washing, mending tents – but all with slow, steady movements. Some stopped to watch the strangers pass. Others continued on as if visitors were of no interest.

A small crowd of children began following them. It rapidly swelled to a larger one, but although the children giggled, talked and pointed, they were not rowdy or noisy.

The sun had dipped close to the horizon by the time they found what they were searching for. Outside a tent no more extraordinary than the rest sat a ring of old men, cross-legged, on a blanket on the ground.

“These people have come to speak to the tribes,” he told them, pointing at Achati, Dannyl and Tayend. “They have questions to ask. Who has the Voice? Who can answer the questions?”

“We are the Voice today,” one of the old men answered. He stood up, his eyes moving from the guide, who was dismounting, to Achati, Dannyl and Tayend as they followed suit. “Who asks the questions?”

The guide turned and nodded to Achati. “Introduce yourselves,” he instructed quietly. “Only you, not your companions.”

Achati stepped forward. “I am Ashaki Achati,” he said. “Adviser to King Amakira and escort to … these men.”

Dannyl moved forward to stand beside him, then inclined his head in the Kyralian manner. “I am Ambassador Dannyl of the Magicians’ Guild of Kyralia.”

Tayend followed with a courtly bow. “I am Elyne Ambassador Tayend. An honour to meet you.”

The old man exchanged a look with his fellows, who nodded. They shuffled outward to widen the circle. “Sit,” he invited.

“We have brought gifts,” Achati said. He moved to his horse’s saddle-bags and removed a package, then returned and set it down in the middle of the circle.

“You know our customs,” the speaker observed. “And follow them.” The last was said with a hint of wry surprise. One of the other old men reached for the package and opened it. Inside were finely made knives, a box containing a glass lens, a roll of good-quality paper, and a writing set with pen and ink. The old men hummed with pleasure. From the way they handled the items it was clear they were familiar with their uses, despite the fact that they would not be easily obtainable in Duna. The speaker nodded.

“Ask your questions. Know that we may not answer at once. We may not answer at all.”

Achati looked at Dannyl and nodded. Dannyl ran through all the approaches he’d considered during the journey.

“Many years ago I began a task,” he began. “To write a history of magic. I have sought the answer to many questions, concerning both ancient and recent events, and …” he sighed, “the answers have led to more questions.”

A few of the old men smiled a little at that.

“The most puzzling discovery I made was that my people, many hundreds of years ago, possessed something called a storestone. It was kept in Arvice until a magician, through avarice or madness, stole it. The records of that time suggest that he used it, perhaps in a confrontation with his pursuers, perhaps by mistake, perhaps even deliberately, to create the wasteland that borders the mountains between Sachaka and Kyralia.”

The old men were all nodding. “We know of this wasteland,” the leader said.

“My questions are … what was this storestone? Do any more exist? Does the knowledge of how to make one still exist? If it does, how could any land defend itself against its use?”

The spokesman chuckled. “You have many questions.”

“Yes,” Dannyl agreed. “Should I limit them?”

“You may ask as many as you wish.”

“Ah, that’s good.” Dannyl smiled in gratitude. “I have a lot. Well, I mostly want to ask about magical gemstones. Not for the secrets of how to make them, of course. But they are a new kind of magic for me. What can they do? What are their limitations? A Duna tracker named Unh told me that the Traitors stole some of this knowledge from you. How much do they know?”

The old man looked at Achati. “That is a question you would like the answer to as well.”

Achati nodded. “Of course. But if you wish to speak to Dannyl alone, then I will leave.”

The old man’s eyebrows rose. He looked at each of his fellow tribesmen in turn. They made no signal that Dannyl could detect, but somehow they communicated their feelings to him. As he finished gazing at the last of them, he looked up at Dannyl.

“Are these all the questions you have?”

Dannyl nodded, then smiled wryly. “Unless the answers raise more questions.”

“We must discuss and decide what answers we may give you,” the man said. “And some questions can only be answered by a Keeper of the Lore, who may not agree to speak to you. There is a tent here for guests that you are welcome to sleep in, while you wait.”

Dannyl looked at Achati, who nodded. “We would be honoured – and very grateful,” Dannyl replied.

The old man called out, and a young man hurried out of a tent. “Gan will take you there,” said the spokesman, gesturing towards the newcomer.

Achati, Dannyl and Tayend climbed to their feet, and joined their guide as he followed the young man into the forest of tents.

The late-afternoon sun cast a cool light over the Guild gardens. Trees and hedges cast deep shadows, and it had taken Sonea a while to find a bench still in sunlight. Fortunately there were few magicians occupying the gardens, since the air still had a crisp winter chill to it. She could feel the cold of the wooden slats through the cloth of her robes.

It had been two days since she had spoken to Dorrien. The previous evening she had delayed her arrival at the hospice so that he was already gone by the time she arrived. It had been cowardly, she knew.

But I haven’t decided what to say to him. She knew that she should tell him she could not have a relationship with him other than friendship. But he’ll see the evasion in that. “Could not” was different to “would not”. He would want her to make it clear that she did not feel the same way about him as he had admitted he still did about her. And if I tell him that, he’ll pick up on my uncertainty and doubt.

When she considered the idea she felt a traitorous longing, but she was unsure about the source of that, too. Am I just craving company? Someone to come home to? Was she simply wanting physical contact?

So much for telling Rothen I don’t want a husband. And yet … I don’t.

Company and desire weren’t all that a relationship of that kind needed. There must be love, too. Romantic love. And that’s where I falter. Do I love Dorrien? I don’t know. Surely I would know, if I did. Maybe it isn’t so obvious, for older people.

The other ingredient she considered essential was respect, and that troubled her the most. Dorrien is married. If he was unfaithful to Alina with me, I would lose respect for him. And myself.

When she pictured herself telling him this, she felt such a reluctance to spoil things that she was beginning to doubt her own doubts. How could she be unsure whether she loved him, and yet so resistant to ending all possibility of love between them?

How I wish I could talk to Rothen about this. He would disapprove, she knew. At the same time he would point out, perhaps not directly, that it was all her fault for missing her chance with Dorrien. It would upset him that Dorrien and Alina were not getting along.

I wish Dorrien would just take his wife back to the village, she thought, then she immediately felt guilty. At least Alina would be happier, she couldn’t help adding. Dorrien would be too, after a while. It’s where he’s always felt he belonged.

He had adjusted to living in the city remarkably well, though. Perhaps he wasn’t as wedded to the country as he’d always maintained he was. It was fortunate, since she so badly needed his help finding Skellin.

Or do I? Cery still does most of the work. A couple of magicians were never going to match a Thief’s spy network. But I still need someone to help me capture Skellin – even more so now that Lorandra has escaped. I can’t let anything between Dorrien and I prevent us from capturing the rogues.

Not talking to Dorrien was doing exactly that.

The shadows were so long now that only her shoulders were in sunlight. Sighing, she stood and started toward the path that ran alongside the University. I may as well get this over and done with. She reached the path and started walking toward the front of the building. If she left now there would be an hour or two before her shift officially started. Plenty of time to sort this out.

The wait for a carriage and the journey to the hospice seemed to take longer than usual. Her heart was beating a little too fast as she walked down the corridor to the room Dorrien was working in. She knocked on the door and took a deep breath as it opened.

“Black Magician Sonea,” an unexpected voice said behind her. She glimpsed Dorrien’s face – looking both hopeful and guilty – before she turned to face the speaker. It was a young Healer – a shy Lonmar who had decided upon graduation to gain some experience with working among the common people before returning to his home.

“Yes?”

The man bowed, handed her a folded slip of paper, sealed with wax, then flushed and hurried away.

She broke the seal and read the letter. A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine as she read Cery’s instructions, despite the fact that messages like these had led to disappointment in the past. She turned to Dorrien, who was eyeing her thoughtfully.

“You’re finished here for the day, Dorrien,” she told him. “But you’d best send Alina an apology for missing dinner. We’ve got work to do in the city.”

“Wait here.”

Though short and thin, the man sent to guide them to the meeting place by the Thief called Enka had exhibited a coldness and efficiency that made him more intimidating to Lilia than Cery’s big bodyguard.

There’s something about him that disturbs me, she found herself thinking. I reckon he’d do anything his boss told him to, and it wouldn’t bother him. Anything.

He’d led her, Anyi, Cery and Gol to a half-ruined empty warehouse on one of the less-used wharves of the marina. Anyi had assured her that there were more of Cery’s people involved, following at a discreet distance. They would be finding places to watch from, places they could emerge from quickly if Cery signalled for help.

“Where should we position ourselves?” Anyi asked. She was looking up. “Pity we can’t get up there.”

Lilia followed the woman’s gaze. The frame of the warehouse was exposed, and the huge beams looked more than solid enough to keep the building standing for a long while yet. The end of the building had once had a mezzanine floor, complete with a row of windows, but the floorboards had rotted away or been salvaged. She could see why Anyi thought it a good vantage point. The windows would allow a view of the rest of the dock.

Moonlight shone through the windows, making it hard to distinguish details of the wall. Shading her eyes, she saw that one of the large beams ran along bricks where it had once supported the floorboards.

“If we could, do you think we could balance on that beam?” Lilia asked.

Anyi moved closer, then shrugged. “Easy.” She looked at Cery and Gol. “What about you two?”

Cery looked at her and smiled. “I reckon I’d manage. Gol?”

“I s’pose. But how are we going to get up there?”

“Easily, with Lilia’s help,” Anyi said.

Lilia looked from Anyi to Gol and hid a smile. This wasn’t the first time she’d picked up a little competitive rivalry between the two of them. She followed Anyi to the wall with the first-floor windows. Then Anyi turned and grabbed Lilia’s arms.

“Do your thing, Lilia.”

Creating a disc of magic under their feet, Lilia lifted them both up to the beam. Anyi stepped onto it, grinning. Lilia descended again.

With the merest of shrugs, Cery took hold of Lilia’s arms. She levitated him up to the beam and when he was safely perched on it, holding the frame of the nearest window to steady himself, she dropped back down again.

Gol looked at her, then up at Cery, his eyes wide. He took a step back, palms outward.

“I’m not—”

“Get up here, Gol,” Cery ordered tersely. Lilia glanced up. Cery was peering around the frame of a window, looking outside the building.

She heard Gol step closer and turned her attention back to him. He was hesitating again. She heard footsteps outside the warehouse.

“Now,” Cery hissed.

Someone was coming.

Lilia stepped forward and grabbed Gol’s arms, hoping he wouldn’t cry out in protest or fear. She lifted them both upwards. To his credit, he made only a quiet yip of surprise. She moved to a place on the beam where an upright would give him something sturdy to grab hold of, and he immediately wrapped his arms around it.

With her own feet on the beam, she expanded the disc to form a shield surrounding them all, taking care to make it invisible.

The door below opened. Three men moved inside.

“Silent,” one man said. “The hinge has been oiled.”

“For this, or another meet?”

Nobody answered, and the three looked around the warehouse. One even glanced up at the windows, but didn’t appear to see them. Probably half blinded by the moonlight, like we were.

The men left. Lilia let out the breath she had been holding and moved to a window. The openings had long ago lost both glass and mullion framework. She peered around the edge of the hole, and what she saw outside made her heart stop.

A fishing boat was moored to the wharf. The three men who had inspected the warehouse were walking toward two pairs of people. The first pair was a slim old man who she guessed was Enka, because his companion was the man who had been their guide.

The other couple consisted of a rather fat, well-dressed man and a slim woman who, if anything, was more beautiful in the moonlight than daylight. Lilia’s heart felt as if it had begun to glow inside her.

Naki! I’ve found her at last!

Beyond the two groups were more men. She could not tell if they belonged with Naki’s Thief or Enka.

It doesn’t matter, she thought. They’re not magicians. They can’t stop me. She put a foot up on the sill of the window, then paused.

“Go on,” a voice whispered at her side. She turned to see that Anyi had shuffled along the beam to stand next to the window. “Cery says don’t forget to protect Enka and his second.”

Lilia nodded in gratitude, then drew magic and sent it out in two directions to surround Cery’s allies and Naki. She climbed up onto the sill, crouching to duck under the lintel, and stepped out.

The people outside didn’t notice her float to the ground, but Naki was looking around, having detected the shield around her as it bumped up against her own. Oh good, Lilia thought. She can protect herself. She let the shield drop. Something about Naki’s shield nagged at her, however. She began to walk toward the people, half hidden behind the three men who had investigated the warehouse.

“There’s another magician here,” Naki said in a warning tone.

At once all began to cast about, and spotted Lilia quickly. The three men parted, backing away in fear and uncertainty as Lilia passed between them.

“Naki,” Lilia said, then smiled. Her friend was staring at her in surprise. “It’s so good to see you. What trouble have you got yourself into this time?”

“Lilia.” Naki did not speak the name with hatred or accusation, to Lilia’s relief. But she didn’t speak it fondly, either. “Why are you here?”

“To help you.”

Naki sent a flash of light through her shield. “As you can tell, I don’t need your help.”

Lilia gazed at her friend and realised this was what had been nagging at her. She’s right. She doesn’t need my help. She has magic. Somehow she or someone else has removed the block. That’s what was so strange about her shield – she shouldn’t be able to raise one. And then the real meaning behind Naki’s words hit her.

Naki did not want to be rescued.

She’s quite happy working for a Thief. In fact, she probably disappeared deliberately. Unless …? Lilia did something risky then. She spoke with her mind, as softly as possible in the hope that nobody in the Guild would hear.

—Are you being blackmailed?

Naki laughed. “No, you slow-witted fool. This is what I planned all along: get away from the Guild and all their rules and suffocating judgement and be free to do whatever I want.”

Her stare was full of hatred now. Lilia felt a familiar wave of guilt, but she resisted the urge to look away. I did not kill her father, she told herself. She has no reason to hate me. But uncertainty remained. Naki clearly did not want to be rescued. What do I do now?

Naki was breaking the law – but she knew that. Pointing it out was not going to persuade her to return to the Guild. However, if she knew Skellin was after her she might. She’d need the protection of the Guild. Unless … what if Naki was happy to switch from one Thief employer to another? Lilia realised that she needed to take a different approach. One that appealed to Naki’s nature.

“Are you truly free?” Lilia asked. She looked at the fat Thief pointedly.

Naki smiled. Clearly she had expected this argument. “As free as I want to be. Freer than I’d be in the Guild.”

“But for how long?” Lilia asked. “There are people after you. Not the Guild. Powerful rogue magicians.”

“Great.” Naki shrugged. “Then we’ll have a drink and swap stories.”

“They’re not after conversation,” Lilia told her, annoyed at Naki’s refusal to see the danger. “They’ll force you to tell them what was in the book, then they’ll kill you.”

Naki frowned. “The book?” A piercing whistle rang out from the direction of the warehouse, and the girl glanced in that direction before turning back to Lilia. “Oh, you mean black magic? Really, do you think I’d teach them that?”

Something began to bang against the shield Lilia was holding around Cery’s allies. She glanced to the side to see that Cery’s Thief friend and his companion were trying to get out of the barrier. Then she noticed that the fat Thief and his men were moving away toward the fishing boat. Hoping that there was nobody left to harm Cery’s allies, she let the shield around them fall.

Naki was walking toward her. The shadows made her smile look like a crazed grin.

“You know …” She tilted her head to one side and her expression became thoughtful. “… if the price was right, working with the rogues might be tempting.”

She was a few steps away. Her stare was predatory and dangerous. Lilia found herself backing away and strengthening the shield around herself.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, of course not. It wouldn’t be smart, would it? I’d be creating potential enemies as powerful as me.”

“As powerful as …” Lilia stopped backing away. “You did learn black magic that night!”

“No.” Naki’s beautiful mouth widened into an ugly, selfsatisfied smile. “I taught myself before we even met.”

She spread her fingers, and a bolt of magic clashed against Lilia’s shield. This was no cautious practice strike in Warrior classes. It was a blast that forced Lilia back, then to desperately draw forth more power than she’d ever needed to before to hold her shield up.

I ought to strike back. Lessons returned to her. A shield took more magic than a strike. If two combatants were equal in strength, the one who shielded more would fail first. But this is Naki. What if I hurt her? What if I kill her?

Clearly, Naki wasn’t having any of the same doubts. Her words echoed in Lilia’s mind. “I taught myself before we even met.” That meant Naki had known the instructions in the book would work. She had known she was ruining Lilia’s life. Lilia felt her heart shrivel away from the thought. Why would Naki do that? To share the crime with another? Which meant Lilia hadn’t been the only person in the house who knew black magic the night Lord Leiden had died.

But surely she wouldn’t kill her own father …

Who else could it have been? Suddenly Lilia had to know for sure – and the only way she could do that was to ensure Naki was captured, so that Black Magician Sonea could read her mind. Or me. I could read her mind.

The best chance she had at that was to fight back. Carefully. She’d never know the truth if Naki died. So she threw magic back at Naki. At first the strikes were meagre things compared to Naki’s, and the other girl laughed, but Lilia found she rapidly grew used to using this much power. Naki’s strikes were careless, which sent a trickle of fear through Lilia.

If she’s known black magic for so long, has she been strengthening herself? I haven’t used black magic once. I’m only as strong as I naturally am, and I’ve been levitating a lot …

That thought sent a rush of panic through Lilia. She pushed it aside as best she could. Though she could feel herself trembling, she managed to keep her strikes accurate and her shield steady. A part of her was amused to see that Naki, despite being best at the Warrior discipline, wasn’t bothering to do anything tricky or cunning, but her amusement fled as she realised this was because she didn’t have to. She wanted this over as soon as possible.

Abruptly, Lilia reached for power and found her strength depleted. She gasped with horror and disbelief as her shield faltered, and braced herself for the blow that would kill her. Naki gave a crow of triumph, but the strike did not come. To Lilia’s immense relief, the girl stopped striking and started toward her.

“You haven’t taken magic, have you?” Naki said, snaking a hand out and grabbing Lilia’s arm. She shook her head. “All this time you were free and you never took power. You always were stupid and gullible.” With a push, she turned Lilia around and twisted her arm behind her back. Pain shot through Lilia’s arm and shoulder.

“If you’re so smart, why are you working for a Thief?” Lilia replied. “Why isn’t he working for you?”

Naki laughed quietly. “Oh, I’m just learning the ropes.”

She shifted, and something cold and sharp touched Lilia’s neck. In the corner of her eye Lilia could see the moonlight catch the edge of a knife. A chill rushed through her body as she realised what Naki intended to do, followed by a deep, rending hurt in her chest. She’s going to kill me after all. All along I’ve been hoping she has been caught up in one of her crazy schemes. That she’s being reckless, and doesn’t really want to hurt me. But she doesn’t love me. She probably never did.

She’s right. I am a fool …

Then Naki yanked Lilia backwards and let her go. Lilia heard a crack as she staggered, off balance, tripped and fell onto her backside.

From somewhere nearby, someone uttered a curse.

Shouts rang out, then the sound of running. Looking around, Lilia saw Anyi, Gol and Cery hurrying toward her. From another direction came a magician, black robes snapping.

Sonea?

The Black Magician did not look at Lilia as she ran past. Turning, Lilia saw Sonea throw herself onto her knees next to Naki, who was lying on the wharf, and grasp the girl’s head. Which was bent at a strange angle.

As she watched, the head slowly moved back to a natural position, colour returning to Naki’s face. The girl groaned and opened her eyes. She looked up at Sonea and groaned again.

“Yes. Me.” Sonea’s expression changed from relieved to grim. She got to her feet. “You may not want to thank me for saving your life.”

Naki sat up and rubbed at her neck. “Why should I? You nearly killed me.”

Sonea looked at her as if she wanted to say more, then changed her mind. She took hold of Naki’s arm and hauled her to her feet, then turned to Lilia. “Cery assures me you’ll come back to the Guild willingly now.”

Following her gaze, Lilia saw that Cery, Anyi and Gol were standing right behind her, along with two other magicians in green robes who she had never seen before.

“Yes,” Lilia replied. “Now that I’ve found her.” Anyi held out a hand and helped Lilia climb to her feet.

“Anything broken?” Anyi murmured.

“Just my pride.”

“And your heart, I think.”

Lilia stared at Anyi, who gave her a knowing look before stepping away. “Well, I guess you’ll be going back to the Guild now. Drop around from time to time. You’ll always be welcome.”

Lilia winced. “I don’t think I’m going to have much chance of visiting anybody.”

Anyi’s smile faded. “Well then … we’ll just have to drop in on you.”

Sonea looked from Anyi to Lilia thoughtfully, then turned to Cery. “You and I need to have a little chat.”

He smiled. “Always do. I’m happy to wait until you haven’t got your hands full, and I’m sure the Guild will be keen to have this one back in their hands as soon as possible.” He gestured towards Naki.

Sonea gave him a level look. “Another time, then.”

He nodded, stepped back and waved a hand. “Goodnight, then.”

As the Black Magician stepped away, Anyi patted Lilia on the shoulder. “They’d better treat you right, or I’ll come bust you out myself.”

“I’ll be fine,” Lilia told her, though she wasn’t sure if that was true.

As she joined Sonea, Naki and the other magicians, Cery, Gol and Anyi started toward the warehouse. Then something occurred to Lilia. She’d left the trio stranded there so … “How’d you get down from the beam?” she called after them.

Anyi paused to look back, grinning. “With not as much difficulty and swearing as the others.” Then she disappeared into the shadows, leaving Lilia wondering if she would ever see her rescuer again.