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  Despite the danger and the cold, Tianne felt her head dip towards her chest. Each time her head started to nod she shook herself awake, expecting to find one of the rats gnawing on her arm. But they just sat and waited. The next time she felt her head dip forward she stood up, screaming and shouting, waving her arms to fight off something. Her cell was empty and she didn’t know if the rats had been real or an hallucination.

  Her mind started drifting down peculiar pathways and she found herself full of strange regrets. Her new clothes were torn, wet and ruined. They were only a few days old. Tianne also worried about her horse. The merchant would think she wasn’t coming back and by now had probably sold it on to someone else. It could be days away from the city already. She envied that freedom.

  Alone in the dark and cold she wondered how long her sanity would last. If they did intend to torture her then perhaps they wanted to break her spirit first. What if they asked her about the location of other mages? What if they wanted to know about Wren’s community? But that was impossible, they couldn’t know where she’d come from. Unless she’d already told them and just couldn’t remember.

  Wailing in a panic about her possible betrayal, Tianne instinctively reached for the Source and without realising began to freeze the air. Water began to drip from the ceiling of the cell and a long icicle formed on the metal grille. When something freezing dripped onto her face she thought it was raining, forgetting that she was inside. Looking up she saw the icicle and her connection to the Source evaporated. With greedy, swollen hands she snapped it off and, not caring about the metallic taste, bit off the end. The water was freezing and delicious, easing her parched throat. She crunched her way through half of the icicle before her thirst was sated.

  It took a while but eventually Tianne noticed something was different. It was the silence. People talking and moving above her head had become a constant background noise that she’d grown used to, but now it was absent. Staring up at the grille she saw several faces peering at her through the narrow gaps.

  “Open it,” said a rich, commanding voice and she heard several people scrambling to obey. More light flooded into her watery cell and she had to shield her eyes until they adjusted to the brightness. “Bring her up,” said the voice again. She caught a glimpse of a handsome, middle-aged Zecorran man with thick black hair and a brooding expression. Rage flowed off him in waves and everyone else seemed petrified by him.

  A rope ladder was dropped into her cell but Tianne was so weak she couldn’t climb up. The fingers on her left hand wouldn’t work properly and she didn’t have the strength to pull herself up the rungs.

  “Child, stand to one side,” said the voice again in a gentler tone. Tianne complied and a moment later heavy splashes announced the arrival of two large men. When they approached her she panicked and tried to fight back but all she managed to do was feebly flap her hands against them. They ignored her cries and lifted her above their heads. More hands from above grabbed hold of her arms and she was lifted out of the darkness into yellow light that stung her eyes.

  “By the Blessed Mother,” hissed the man. Tianne felt something warm and soft wrapped around her as strong arms lifted her off the ground.

  “Regent, she’s filthy,” someone protested and was abruptly cut off.

  Tianne felt herself being carried and in a daze she saw several corridors fly by. She didn’t care what was happening any more. She was warm and this illusion was a lot better than some that had come to her. Tianne decided to embrace the fantasy while it lasted, drifting off into an uneasy sleep.

  The next time she woke up Tianne was surprised not to see the familiar walls of her cell. Her feet were dry and had been wrapped up in something warm and soft. She was buried under a heavy sheet and it took her a little while to realise it was a thick woollen blanket. She lay in a plush bed in a comfortable-looking room and not far away the handsome man was tending a roaring fire. Its heat filled the room and her face was hot and flushed. Her eyes were sticky but the swelling over one of them had been reduced. When the man saw that she was awake he came to her side and gently lifted her head.

  “Drink this,” he said, holding a cup to her lips. “Slowly,” he warned her. Tianne gulped down some of the liquid which tasted like a broth of sorts. She felt its warmth spreading throughout her body and after only a few mouthfuls was done. The fire and the blanket and the broth wrapped her in a warm cocoon and she slept again.

  For the next few days Tianne drifted in and out of consciousness and each time she woke he would soon appear at her side to feed her and check on her health. Others came and went, treating her wounds and tending to some of her needs, which initially she found embarrassing. Her old clothes were gone and Tianne realised she’d been bathed and dressed in thick woollen garments beneath the blanket. With barely the strength to sit up without assistance, Tianne soon overcame her embarrassment. By the third day she felt more like herself and was sitting up in bed eating unaided, no longer swaddled in woollen clothing and blankets. Her right eye was still a little swollen and sore, but there were no mirrors for her to see how badly she’d been injured.

  Much to her surprise she hadn’t lost any toes from her prolonged exposure to the cold water. Her feet ached a little when she stumbled around, but she hoped that too would fade in time.

  When he entered the room this time she noticed how the guards outside the door bowed their heads, confirming her suspicion about his identity.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

  “Much better, thank you, Sire,” said Tianne, bowing her head.

  “Ah,” said Regent Choilan, offering her a smile that warmed her right down to her toes.

  “If not for you, I would be dead. I don’t know how to thank you.”

  The Regent sadly shook his head and Tianne felt dismayed. The last thing she wanted to do was disappoint him. “I owe you an apology. I’m so sorry for what happened.”

  Tianne was stunned into silence but eventually managed to speak. “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s my fault,” he said, taking one of her hands in his. “I had told my people that any Zecorran mages were to be made welcome, but they didn’t listen. Maybe some of them didn’t think it was real, or their bias made it easy for them to ignore it. I’ve punished those responsible for what happened to you, but can you ever forgive me?”

  She didn’t know what to say. The Regent of Zecorria was asking for her forgiveness. In every fantasy and scenario in her mind, not once had this ever come up. “Of course,” she managed to babble. “All is forgiven, Sire. It wasn’t your fault.”

  His smile, and the gentle squeeze of his strong hands made heat rise in her cheeks. If he noticed he didn’t say anything, for which she was grateful. He gently released her and she felt a jolt of disappointment that he was leaving so quickly. A moment later she realised how stupid that was. He was the Regent of the entire country, not her nursemaid. He’d already made a point of visiting her every day and helping feed her.

  Thankfully, instead of leaving he moved to the window and stared out at the city below. As part of her daily routine she was encouraged to walk a little and yesterday she’d made it to the window by herself.

  “It was a very brave thing you did, coming home after how I’ve spoken about mages.” Tianne wasn’t sure if she was supposed to answer or not. She decided to play it safe and remain silent. The Regent seemed lost in thought, wrestling with something, his face creased with worry. “But all of that is in the past and now we must move forward together. A terrible menace threatens us and I need loyal people like you. Loyal Zecorran mages.”

  He turned his head slightly towards her and Tianne thought it was a cue. “I still want to help. I came home to protect Zecorria.”

  “That’s generous,” he said, favouring her with a brief smile, “but you should know what’s coming before agreeing to it. The work ahead is not going to be easy. Most people still think magic is evil and that mag
es are not to be trusted. I admit, I’m partially to blame for that attitude.” The Regent’s broad shoulders seemed to sag and Tianne thought he must have a lot of pressures weighing him down.

  “It’s not your fault,” she said, but he carried on speaking as if he hadn’t heard.

  “Magic is a part of everything and I cannot pretend otherwise. Garvey and his band of rebels are murdering men, women and children. They’re destroying whole communities and I need loyal, brave mages that are willing to stand up to him. But wherever they go, people may try to hurt them. It’s going to take a long time to earn the people’s trust.”

  “I’m used to it,” said Tianne and the Regent turned, sadness and surprise warring on his face. “We fled from the Red Tower because people were afraid and blamed us for what had happened. We could have fought back and easily kept them at bay, but it would only have made things worse. So we ran instead.”

  “It saddens me that someone so young has had to deal with so much.” The Regent moved to sit down on the edge of her bed again. “After how you’ve been treated I wouldn’t blame you for leaving. You would be given money, a horse and whatever provisions you need.”

  “This is my home,” said Tianne, although part of her knew that was a lie. It hadn’t felt like home in a long time. She’d felt more at peace at the Red Tower and later among her friends in the new community. Zecorria was a strange and unwelcoming land but she hoped that, in time, it would start to feel familiar again.

  “If you choose to stay, you will become the first of my new cadre of loyal Zecorran mages.”

  “It would be my honour.”

  “Thank you, Tianne,” he said, touching her hand, which sent a thrill up her arm. “The first step to regaining the trust of the people is to secure the city. There are many here who want to harm me and see chaos in the streets. I need your help to root out those using their magic for ill, scaring, harming or cheating others. You’ll be assigned a patrol of Royal Guards to protect you, just in case.”

  He didn’t need to say any more. Just by showing a small bit of magic in the queue for the palace people had been scared. Given what had happened during the war, and recently with Garvey, she couldn’t really blame them. It was going to take people a long time to become accustomed to seeing magic being used deliberately in public. But she was determined to show the people of Zecorria that magic, in the right hands, was a wonderful thing.

  “It will be my pleasure, Sire,” said Tianne, giving him another seated bow.

  “I’ll come by and visit when I can,” he said, getting up to leave. “Make me proud.”

  Many times she’d regretted leaving the safety of the community and making the long journey here, but now she had a purpose. She would impress the Regent and show him that he’d made the right decision with his amnesty. She wanted to prove that his trust in her was well placed and together they would slowly begin to win over the people.

  Despite the perfect picture of the future she was creating in her mind a seed of worry remained. Her thoughts lingered on her arrival at the palace. The dull ache in her feet was a constant reminder of what happened when she trusted people too readily. Wren had been partially right. She had been naïve, but that too was in the past. This time it would be different. She was sure of it.

  CHAPTER 22

  The second time Munroe went to meet the Butcher her experience was a lot more pleasant. There was no need for the drunk routine or any form of pretence.

  A note had been slipped under her bedroom door with a place to meet him. After a hearty breakfast, and remembering to avoid her old haunts, Munroe took a slightly strangled route down to the docks. If Perizzi was the centre of the west then the port was its beating heart. Rivers of goods and information flowed through the city and a hundred new stories arrived every morning via the ships with their diverse cargo. Merchants bartered with ships’ captains and dockside workers for better deals while exchanging tales and rumours.

  In the short time she’d been waiting for the Butcher she’d heard four stories about Garvey. After his latest attack on a village in northern Yerskania he’d vanished for about a week, only to reappear in Zecorria. The Regent’s sudden change of heart and plea for mages made a lot more sense. She would’ve felt more sympathy for him if not for the fact that he’d been the first to bring in a national ban on Seekers.

  One rumour about Garvey claimed that a group of Yerskani soldiers had fought the rogue mages somewhere in the north. When Garvey and his followers attacked a town the soldiers had surprised them, succeeding in killing one of their number. A variant of the story from a swarthy captain claimed Garvey himself had been injured. For whatever reason all four stories agreed that he and his group had not been seen for eight days before their sudden appearance over the border. They hadn’t attacked a settlement recently, which was making patrols in both countries increasingly nervous.

  Despite spending several years at the Red Tower, Munroe’s first impression of Garvey had not changed. His power and skill as a Sorcerer couldn’t be denied, but he was dangerously unstable. Perhaps that was why when she first heard the stories of his rampage it didn’t surprise her.

  Normally Munroe enjoyed the crowds at the docks. Seeing so many people crawling over the ships made her realise she was just one individual among thousands and it put her troubles into perspective. Today she didn’t care about any of them or their problems. Today there was too much noise and too many people for her liking. The only good thing about the crowd was her ability to hide in plain sight. None of Akosh’s people knew she was coming after her, and, if she was half as clever as Munroe imagined, she would have several people working in the port. The only problem was she had no idea who they were. The Butcher probably had his suspicions, but she doubted any of Akosh’s people would betray her. With a glare at the crowd and the unknown agents hiding within, she drained her glass of ale and went inside the drinking hole to fetch another.

  A short time later the Butcher came in and sat down at the bar beside her. He ordered an ale and they drank in companionable silence for a while.

  “I received some news from Rojenne,” she said, forgoing any of the usual banter. The crushing weight on her heart was a constant reminder of what had been taken from her. The constant effort of holding back her anger left little room for much else. The drink numbed the pain a little, but it always came back, full of razors and claws, ripping her apart on the inside.

  She hated standing still and not being out there chasing down people, but had finally accepted her less than subtle approach would not be enough. Not this time.

  “Was this your first official report as Dońa Munroe?”

  In Perizzi the underworld was controlled by several crime Families, each headed up by a Don or Dońa.

  She snorted. “Hardly. They don’t have crime Families down there. The man I left in charge, Tok, found out she has two orphanages in Rojenne. Both of them receive their money once a month from someone here in Perizzi. It always comes in with merchant trains, so it’s well protected. Someone then passes out the gold to the orphanages.”

  The Butcher said nothing for a while, mulling it over. “Makes sense. Rojenne is a fairly small city and a little out of the way. I doubt she has many people down there. It also lines up with what I’ve found.”

  “Which is?”

  “A fat money spider,” said the Butcher, raising one corner of his mouth in a half-smile.

  “Where?”

  “Right here, in the heart of Perizzi. The money flows in from all over and then goes back out again, to Rojenne and probably other places in Yerskania I’ve not found yet.”

  “Then why are we still sitting here?” said Munroe, getting up from her stool. The Butcher just tapped the bar and looked at her expectantly. Taking a deep breath, she sat back down again, swallowing her bitter frustration.

  “If we were to grab the bookkeeper, there’s no guarantee he’d know where to find her. However,” said the Butcher, holding up a hand before she in
terrupted. He waited until Munroe had bitten her lip before continuing. “What he does have is a list of names. People and places. Part of Akosh’s network. What we need is to get hold of that list, then I can have eyes and ears watching for her in all of those places.”

  “It’s a good thing I never joined the Silent Order,” said Munroe. “I don’t have the patience for all this crap.”

  The Butcher raised an eyebrow. “The Silent Order? Never mind, I probably don’t want to know.”

  “So where’s the list? In his office?”

  “No, I had someone check and that’s the first problem. The Guardians are investigating Akosh as well, and they had the same idea. They picked up the accountant a few hours ago.”

  “What’s the second problem?” asked Munroe through clenched teeth.

  “He’s being held at Unity Hall. It would be extremely difficult and costly for me to get one person inside that place. If I tried, the long-term repercussions would severely outweigh the short-term benefit.” The repercussions for breaking into the Guardians’ most secure building would be harsh. It was also not something that they would forget. There would be a lasting shadow hanging over everything the Butcher did while the Watch and every Guardian focused their attention on him. The risk simply wasn’t worth the reward.

  “Shit.”

  “I had hoped once the Old Man retired the new Khevassar would be more flexible. Sadly, it seems she’s just as implacable as her predecessor.”

  “I know her. She’s pretty dangerous.”

  “Perhaps you could work with her, and the Guardians, to find Akosh,” suggested the Butcher, but Munroe was already shaking her head before he’d finished talking.

  “No. I tried that,” she said, thinking back to her last meeting with Tammy. “They’re too slow and always go by the book. They’ll probably try to imprison Akosh. I’m going to rip off her head with my bare hands and piss on her rotting corpse.”