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Drake waved forward an attendant. “Dispose of him.”
Men dragged the body away as the others watched in silence.
“You never asked me,” said the third supplicant, a girl about Luce’s age.
Drake pulled off a glove. The skin was red and flaking, mottled with so many burn scars it was a wonder he could use his hands at all. He knelt and pinched out both flames. “I have nothing to ask you. The blacksmiths do not admit women to their guild. They teach them only how to lock away their fire. So either you will go home or you will try your luck.”
“Do you mean us to die?” she asked boldly. Maybe the darkness gave her courage.
“No, not at all. If you have the knack of casting off the backlash, I will train you to hone that skill and nurture your fire. But even the best-trained fire mage can die. And you must be willing to see others die, for if you make one mistake with your catch-fires, as you will, their bodies will be served as this man’s was.”
“My bridges are burned. My home will be here, or in the spirit world.”
She took in a sharp breath. The candle took flame. She sucked in a pained inhalation; I smelled a pinprick of ashy smoke. Light sparked in her eyes. Then a glowing thread spun out from her like an unwinding coil and streamed into the body of the nearest catch-fire. The man stiffened, arms rigid at his side, but the backlash was more trickle than roar.
The girl’s lips parted, and her eyes widened. Her hands raised to press at her mouth. The candle’s light danced along her pale skin. The rest of the world lay in shadow.
“Enough,” said Drake. “You have a light touch, as women often do. If you wish to walk this road, you may enlist.”
She dropped to her knees so abruptly I thought she was falling, but she was just stunned. The catch-fire relaxed as the backlash vanished. The candle burned on.
“Yes, that is my wish,” said the girl through tears.
“Remain here then, and assist with the hospital tomorrow. Under no circumstances attempt even to light a candle, not until we have had time to train you in the preliminaries.”
“Yes, my lord. Yes!” By the way she gazed raptly at him, I saw the cage he wove: He gave the fledgling fire mages a life otherwise denied them.
I fled to the library. It hurt to entertain the idea that Drake might be right about one thing.
Rory still slept. Camjiata sat alone at the desk, studying a map. He did not look up as I crept across the plush rug, for of course I was veiled in shadows.
“I can hear you moving about, Cat. Do you think I did not notice when you suddenly vanished? Dark Ataecina! Whence comes this shadow magic? Has the Hassi Barahal clan nurtured it close to their hearts all these years? Uniquely suited for a family of spies, don’t you think? Or is it only you, Cat? Not cold, not fire, but a creature as yet unclassified by the scholars.”
Fortunately, before I felt obliged to answer this salvo, all delivered in a cheerful tone, boots sounded in the corridor. I threw myself on the couch and pretended to be asleep as Drake walked in. The whiff of smoke made me choke.
“I have discovered another apt fire mage. Another girl.”
“You seem to prefer the girls, James.” Camjiata’s tone seemed distracted, but I heard the edge cutting beneath his genial disinterest.
“Girls are more malleable. More grateful, for I give them a status and independence they cannot gain elsewise. Thus they are the most loyal of all. Most of them, anyway. Not this one.” I felt the pressure of his gaze as he looked at me. I wanted to leap up and stab him, but Vai’s cautions and my promise to the radical cause stayed my hand. “Women are so grievously shallow-minded. If the arrogant cold mage weren’t so handsome and cocksure, she wouldn’t love him half as well.”
“Really, James, you must give up this unseemly obsession.”
“I care nothing for her. Angeline is far more beautiful and an equal to me besides. But she will lead me to him.”
“If you kill him, I will be seriously displeased with you.”
Drake laughed. “And then what? Then what will you do?”
Tension stung like the snap of air before a thunderstorm breaks.
“Do you want to find out, James?”
Noble Ba’al, but I had to admire the general’s self-assurance! Drake hesitated for so long I almost popped my head up just to enjoy the expression that surely soured his face. Rory prodded me with his foot. I stayed curled up.
“Without my help, your partisans would never have been able to break you out of your island prison.”
“I am aware of what I owe to you. But I am also aware of what you owe to me. You are a murderer, condemned by your own kinfolk in your own clan’s court of law.”
