Zanna’s eyes, beneath that flopping curtain of hair that irritated Sara so, narrowed in calculation, Vannor’s blood ran true in her veins, all right! The minx was a merchant through and through!
“I might not,” Zanna said carelessly, “I’m sure that someone as clever as you can think of some way to make it worth my while!”
It was all too much. “Get out!” Sam shrieked. “Get out now—and send Gelda to clear up this mess!”
Zanna looked down at the shards of porcelain that littered the floor, and her expression changed from smugness to a stony hatred chat was shocking in one so young. “That was Mother’s favorite vase,” she said in a small, tight voice. “Gods, I hate you.”
It was the first time she had actually said the words aloud. Then she was gone, leaving a shaken Sara to pour herself another drink and wonder how, after her own failure to slam the door, the child could have managed it so effectively.
Anvar fought to stay conscious, out of fear of what the Archmage might do to him if he were asleep and helpless. The Lady tried to feed him broth, propping him with one arm while she held the cup of warm liquid to his lips with the other. He couldn’t swallow it. His head throbbed from Jard’s treacherous blow, and his body ached all over. It hurt to breathe. His stomach was knotted in trepidation. When he heard Miathan’s voice, talking to Forral in the outer room, he began to struggle violently, sending the cup flying and drenching both himself and the Mage.
Then the Archmage was in the room, towering over him, his eyes burning with rage. “You!” he snarled, reaching out to haul Anvar to his feet. Anvar cringed back, whimpering. “Miathan, no!” Aurian sounded shocked. “Aurian, don’t interfere,” Miathan said sharply. “The wretch has broken his bond, and must be punished.”
“Punished?” Aurian’s voice rose in disbelief. “He’s been punished enough! Have you seen what Janok did to him?”
“She’s right, Miathan,” Forral said. “This goes beyond the bounds of reason.”
“You mind your own business!” Miathan snapped. “It is my business.” Forral scowled. “It’s my duty to enforce the law in Nexis, and Magefolk or not, I won’t turn a blind eye to such brutality. Even a bondservant has some rights. How would you look if word of this got out?”
Anvar felt a surge of hope. They were defending him. They were both defending him, even the Mage!
Miathan seemed taken aback, but he recovered quickly. “My dear Forral, you misunderstand me,” he said. “Of course there must be no repetition of this unfortunate incident, and I assure you that I will look into the matter—in detail.” He frowned at Anvar as he spoke. “You should know, however, that this man is a troublemaker, and very dangerous.”
“He doesn’t look dangerous to me,” Forral said bluntly. “The poor beggar’s scared out of his wits. Surely you could pardon him this time, Archmage. He’s suffered enough.”
“Please, Miathan—for me?” Aurian added her own plea, looking trustingly at the Archmage. Had it not been for the desperate extremity in which he found himself, Anvar could have laughed at the trapped expression on Miathan’s face.
“Oh, very well,” the Archmage muttered at last. “I shall speak to Janok on my return.”
At the sound of the Head Cook’s name, Anvar moaned. Not the kitchens again! He couldn’t! Desperate, he caught hold of the Mage’s hand as she stood by his side, and levered his weak body down onto his knees. “Don’t let them send me back there,” he begged. “He’ll kill me. Please—”
“Anvar!” Miathan’s voice was like a whiplash. “How dare you! Leave the Lady Aurian alone!” He bore down on Anvar, who cowered away, burying his face in his hands.
“No!” Anvar shrieked. “Please! Don’t hurt me again!” He screamed again as Miathan’s spell took hold, its icy band of agony clamping tightly around his brow. Helpless, he fell twitching to the floor.
“Dear Gods!” Aurian exclaimed, kneeling beside him.
Suddenly the pain was gone. Anvar, able to breathe again, looked up and saw a clear message in Miathan’s glinting eyes. “If you tell, you’ll die! And he knew that Miathan had removed the pain before Aurian could investigate. “It’s all right,” he muttered helplessly. “I’m all right.”
Aurian frowned. “What the blazes was that? I don’t understand ...” She looked at the Archmage. “What did he mean, Miathan? You haven’t hurt him—have you?”
The Archmage laughed harshly. “Don’t be ridiculous! The man is clearly insane.”
“I don’t think so.” Slowly, Aurian shook her head. “No, he’s just terrified, I’m sure. It’s very strange, though. Where did he come from?”
“Really, Aurian, is all this fuss necessary?” Miathan said testily. “Let me send him back to the Academy, then perhaps we can enjoy the rest of the day.”
“Miathan, you can’t send him back to the kitchens,” Aurian pleaded. “Not after what he’s been through. Wait—I know!” Her face suddenly lit up. “You’ve been promising me my own servant for ages. Let me have him!”
“What!” Miathan thundered. “Certainly not! It’s absolutely out of the question!”
Aurian’s eyes widened with surprise at his refusal. She got to her feet, confronting the Archmage, her jaw jutting stubbornly. “I don’t see why not. It seems a perfect solution to me. Please, Miathan.”
“Aurian, no. I shall find you another servant, but Anvar is most unsuitable. What he needs is discipline.”
“Discipline, my eye!” Aurian snapped. “He’s had too much discipline, if you ask me. What he needs is kindness!”
“I will be the judge of that!” The very air seemed to crackle and spark as the two Mages stood, eye to eye, glaring furiously at one another, while Anvar held his breath.
“Aurian,” Forral intervened urgently, “perhaps the Archmage is right. If he’s truly dangerous—”
“Don’t you start!” Aurian snapped at the startled swordsman. “I’m absolutely sick of the pair of you! I’m no longer a child, to be constantly deferring to your so-called wisdom.” Her voice curdled with scorn. “I’m right in this case, I know it. I want to help this poor man—to restore the honor of the Magefolk. It’s our fault that he ended up this way. But instead of letting me trust my judgment, all I get from you two is specious quibbles! It’s pathetic!”
Miathan looked thunderous. “Aurian!” he roared. “How dare you speak to me in that fashion! Get back to the Academy at once!”
“I will not!” Aurian shouted. “You may rule the Academy, but you don’t rule the world, and you don’t rule me! My father and my mother left, and so can I!”
Miathan went white at her words, and Anvar was puzzled by the sudden flicker of panic in his eyes. Abruptly, he seemed to shrink. “Very well, my dear,” he said. “Since it obviously means so much to you, Anvar is yours.”
Aurian seemed staggered by his sudden capitulation. As the tension drained from the room, she blushed, shamefaced. “Miathan, thank you,” she said softly. “You’re so good to me. I shouldn’t have lost my temper, and I’m truly sorry.”
“So am I,” Miathan said feelingly. He held out his arms, and Aurian ran to hug him. “I’ll make him behave,” she promised. “I swear I will.”
Miathan looked at her gravely. “Indeed you must. You are now responsible for this man, and I hold you answerable for his conduct. If he misbehaves—he goes straight back to the kitchens!” He glowered at Anvar. “Anvar, I trust you will not abuse the Lady Aurian’s kindness.”
Anvar, meeting that steely gaze, shivered.
Miathan smiled coldly. “Now, before I permit you to enter this lady’s service, you must swear, before these witnesses, that you will not try to escape again.”
Anvar froze. Trapped! The Mage was smiling at him encouragingly. Unwittingly, she had trapped him with her kindness! He had no choice, and he knew it. With a sinking heart, he gave his word.