“She’s a wild one,” one of the men said. The injured one gave a short, rueful laugh.
As she looked at the closest magician she felt a shock of recognition. This was the magician who had seen her during the Purge. He stared into her eyes intently.
“Do not fear us, Sonea,” he said. “We will not harm you.”
One of the magicians muttered something. The older magician nodded, then the others slowly withdrew their hands.
An invisible force held her against the wall. Unable to move, she felt a wave of despair followed by the familiar sensation of magic slipping beyond her grasp. The other three magicians ducked as the wall behind them burst, showering the alley with bricks.
A man in a baker’s apron stepped up to the opening, his face dark with anger. Seeing the four magicians, he hesitated, eyes widening. One of the magicians turned and made an abrupt gesture.
“Get yourself away from here,” he barked. “And everyone else in this block.”
The man backed away, then disappeared into the darkness of the house.
“Sonea.”
The older magician was looking at her intently. “Listen to me. We are not going to hurt you. We ...”
A searing heat pressed against her face. Turning, she saw that the bricks nearby were glowing red. A trickle of something ran down the wall. She heard one of the magicians utter an oath.
“Sonea,” the older magician said, a sternness entering his voice. “Stop fighting us. You will harm yourself.”
The wall behind her began to shake. The magicians threw their arms out as the tremor spread. Sonea gasped as cracks began to shoot out from the ground beneath her feet.
“Slow your breathing,” the magician urged. “Try to calm yourself.”
She closed her eyes, then shook her head. It was no use. The magic was flowing from her like water from a broken pipe. She felt a hand touch her forehead and opened her eyes.
The magician withdrew his hand. His face was tense. He said something to the others, then looked into her eyes.
“I can help you, Sonea,” the magician said. “I can show you how to stop this but not if you won’t let me. I know you have every reason to fear and distrust us but if you don’t do this now, you are going to harm both yourself and many, many people in this area. Do you understand?”
She stared at him. Help her? Why would he want to help her?
But if he had intended to kill me, she realized suddenly, he would have done it already.
His face began to shimmer then, and she realized that the air about her had begun to ripple with heat. It seared her face and she bit back a cry of pain. The magician and his companions appeared unaffected, but their expressions were grim.
Though a part of her rebelled at the idea, she knew something bad was about to happen if she didn’t do what these magicians wanted her to do.
The older magician frowned. “Sonea,” he said sternly. “We don’t have enough time to explain. I will attempt to show you, but you must not resist.”
The magician lifted a hand and touched her forehead. His eyes closed.
At once she became aware of a person at the edge of her mind. She knew instantly that his name was Rothen. Unlike the minds that she had sensed searching for her, this one could see her.
Closing her eyes, she concentrated on his presence.
— Listen to me. You have almost completely lost control of your powers.
Though she heard no words, the meaning was clear—and frightening. She understood at once that the power she had would kill her if she did not learn to control it.
— Look for this in your mind.
Something—a wordless thought—an instruction to search. She became aware of a place within herself that was both familiar and strange. As she focused upon it, it became clearer. A great blinding sphere of light, floating in darkness ...
— This is your power. It has grown into a great store of energy, even with you drawing upon it. You must release it—but in a controlled way.
This was her magic? She reached toward it. Immediately, white light flashed from the sphere. Pain raced through her, and somewhere in the distance she heard a voice cry out.
— Don’t try to reach for it—not until I show you how. Now, watch me ...
He called her attention away. She followed him somewhere else, and she became aware of another sphere of light.
— Observe.
She watched as, with a flexing of his will, he drew power from the sphere, shaped it and let it go.
— Now you try.
Focusing on her own light, she willed a little of its energy to come forth. Magic suffused her mind. She had only to think of what she wanted it to do and it was gone.
— That’s right. Now do it again, but keep drawing until you have used all the power you have.
— All?
— Do not be afraid. You are meant to be able to wield that much, and the exercise that I have shown you will use it in a way that will not cause harm.
Her chest swelled as she took a deep breath and let it out. Drawing on her power again, she began to shape and release it over and over. Once she had begun, it seemed eager to answer her will. The sphere began to shrink, slowly diminishing until it was no more than a spark floating in darkness.
— There, it is done.
She opened her eyes and blinked at the destruction surrounding her. The walls were gone, replaced with smoldering rubble for twenty paces in all directions. The magicians regarded her cautiously.
Though the wall behind her was gone, the invisible force still held her upright. As it released her she swayed on her feet, her legs shaking with weariness, then crumpled to her knees. Barely able to hold her back straight, she frowned up at the older magician.
He smiled and bent to place his hand on her shoulder.
— You are safe for now, Sonea. You have used all your energy. Rest. We will talk soon.
As he lifted her into his arms a wave of dizziness rushed over her, bringing a blackness that smothered all thought.
Panting from effort and pain, Cery slumped against the broken wall. Sonea’s cry still echoed in his ears. He pressed his hands to his head and closed his eyes.
“Sonea ...” he whispered.
Sighing, he removed his hands and belatedly heard the sound of footsteps behind him. He looked up to see that the man who had blocked his retreat from the alley had returned and was now staring at him intently.
Cery ignored him. His eyes had found a bright color in all the dust and rubble. He crouched and touched a ribbon of red dripping along the edge of a broken brick. Blood.
Footsteps drew near. A boot appeared beside the blood—boots with buttons in the shape of the Guild symbol. Anger blazed through Cery, and he rose and struck out in one motion, aiming for the man’s face.
The man caught Cery’s fist neatly and twisted. Unbalanced, Cery stumbled and fell, his head striking the broken wall. Colors flashed before his eyes. Gasping, he staggered to his feet, his hands pressed to his head in an attempt to stop the world spinning. The man chuckled.
“Stupid dwell,” he said.
Running his fingers through his fine blonde hair, the magician turned on his heel and stalked away.
Part Two
16
Introductions
As the morning grew old, Rothen felt weariness drag at his eyes. He closed them and called upon a little Healing magic to refresh himself, then lifted his book and forced himself to read.
Before he had finished the page, he found himself looking at the sleeping girl again. She lay in a small bedroom that was part of his suite, in the bed that had once belonged to his son. Others had argued with him over his decision to keep her in the Magicians’ Quarters. Though he had not shared their concerns, he had kept an eye on her—just in case.