The mage spread his arms and bent at the elbows, palms up, as though circling some invisible tree trunk. He closed his eyes. The empty air between his arms shifted into to a shimmering, pale light. A river solidified into view, then a bridge. They were following a road. They traced it all the way to some high mountains and then into the woods. Leaves flew by for quite some time until, suddenly, the mage appeared.

Seulka gasped. “She’s done it!”

His rebellious mage, his best spy. It frightened him a little, the excitement that he felt when he saw her. She’d done it, just as he had thought she could. But of course he would be rooting for her. The nobles had doubted her as much as they had him, but he and the mage slave were showing the fools that talent mattered far more than lineage.

The mage rode on a horse, the prince on another by her side. Her captive didn’t appear to be restrained in any way, but he also wasn’t fleeing. She must have something holding him, if only trickery. Daes didn’t care how she got the job done as long as she succeeded. They appeared to be two unremarkable travelers, riding along through the forest in silence.

It was a work of mastery.

“That was quick,” Daes said, smirking at Seulka. “I told you she could do it.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Listen to your bad manners. I told you so, I told you so.” She glared, but then softened. “Remarkable. A lone woman holding a man captive. It seems hardly possible. How?” she breathed. Was that a hint of jealousy in her voice?

“One piece of iron holds hundreds of mages captive,” said Daes. “Clearly, neither is impossible.”

Seulka simply frowned down at the circle of light, still marveling at what she saw.

Then something occurred to him, a way to test this mage and see what exactly that glimmer in his eyes had meant. “But now that she’s captured him, you have me thinking. One lone woman—why not stack the cards in our favor? Perhaps we should send this mage to help her.”

Seulka’s eyes brightened, as did the mage’s. So he was excited to accompany her? Infatuation, indeed. Daes immediately regretted the suggestion—this air mage was far too excited for this task. If he had his own agenda, he could endanger the real purpose. Although, if that had been to send the mage to her death and cause a diplomatic incident, everything was already going well awry—to the minds of his colleagues, at least.

“No, it’s unnecessary,” he said hastily. “She is already farther along than we thought she’d be. We should let it be.”

“Don’t be silly, that’s a brilliant idea. What’s the harm in it? I told her I’d give her a turning of the moon, but more assistance can’t hurt, can it?”

“I suppose not, but—”

“Nonsense, Daes. You should really learn to follow your intuition. Mage, come over here.” For once, she was quick to act. The air mage dropped the circle and stepped forward, and the image of Miara and the Akarian faded.

Without hesitation or warning, she seized his shoulder over the brand. Sorin gasped and scowled in pain but did not shrink from her. Perhaps not as weak as Daes had first assumed, or he was deeply passionate about his commitment to their service. He hoped for the former.

“Go, mage,” she whispered. “Go to Akaria, and find this mage and Prince Aven Lanuken of Akaria. Aid her in his kidnapping and bring him back to your Masters as quietly and speedily as you can. Let no one know a mage was involved.”

When she let go, he wilted, recovering from the pain. Then after a few moments, he straightened and met Seulka’s gaze.

“I request my leave, then, so that I may begin your task,” he said. “They are already a long way away.”

Seulka smiled, pleased. “Go, then. Prepare, pack, and be on your way.”

The mage nodded and left the room at a trot. Daes scowled after him into the empty hallway.

7

Confessions

Miara and Aven reached the next town well after nightfall. “Ready?” she asked.

He nodded, jaw clenched. He looked regal in the dim light from the moon and windows from the village. She delayed for just a moment at the stateliness of his expression, the line of his jaw. She transformed him, but the image stuck in her mind.

“I’ll leave your voice, especially after what happened last night,” she said as she herself was transforming. “But one false word, and it will be in my pocket, and you will have a sudden case of excruciatingly intense nausea.” Yes, now that had some finesse.

“You can do that?”

“There’s only one way for you to find out.” She winked, now an older woman twice his age. “I can make you blind and deaf, too. Don’t make me try it.”

“You’re quite the battle ax, Mother,” he said. “I assume that’s our story again?”

She nodded. “Stick to it.”

“But when I don’t, I learn so much!” She shot him a cold look. He grinned back boyishly. “I’m teasing. I don’t want a repeat of last night, either.”

“Good.”

The new face she’d created was less handsome, but his smile was still very much his own and undeniably alluring. She could transform someone into an entirely different person, but there were always essential elements that fought their way through—the certain angle in a squinted eye, a wry smile, the kind of features their mother would still recognize.

When they reached the inn, they tied off the horses and headed inside.

“Good evening! Travelers! Fancy that!” the innkeeper exclaimed almost before they were fully in the door. The man looked delighted. Slow business these days, perhaps? “Pray tell, are you in need of a room?”

She nodded. “My son and I—your price?”

“We’ve only got one bed—can you share?”

Her stomach dropped, and she hesitated. Not slow business, then, but just unusual to see total strangers, especially after nightfall.

“That one bed is available at the fine price of seventeen silver, with a meal and as much ale as you like.”

She nodded crisply at that. One bed would have to do; she couldn’t justify leaving and sleeping in the woods for that price. Her mouth had already started to water at the thought of a hot meal, and who knew what tomorrow or the next town would hold? “Better than sleeping in the dirt. Stable?”